And the winner is...
October 2, 2003

“And the winner is...” somebody? I don’t know. I wasn’t watching. I guess the Emmy Awards were on TV recently, because I saw a news segment with a bunch of “pretty people” on the red carpet maintaining smiles for the cameras.

You remember the “Emmy’s” don’t you? Those are the awards for TV shows, given for various categories, such as acting, writing, directing, make-up, foul language, decadence, etc.

The Emmy winners are chosen by members of the “Academy of Television Arts and Sciences.” “Academy?!” Well “La-ti Da!” Some of these “academy” members are so far “out there” that it might be more accurate to rename it “Star Fleet Academy.”

They have nothing new to offer us. Everything they do has been seen before in homes all across America. Take our own home for instance.

The “red carpet” is where everyone waits for the stars to arrive in order to check out what they are wearing, (or NOT wearing, as the case may be.) At our house, we have our own version of the “red carpet” --except that the carpet is not only red, but also blue, purple, green, brown and whatever other color of substance has been spilled on it.

And our “red carpet” is for departures, not arrivals; however it IS for checking out fashion. Before leaving the house, our teenage daughter is called on the carpet in order to inspect her attire, making sure that it is not too short, too tight, too sheer, too low cut, too... “You know what? Just forget it and go back to your room. You’re not going anywhere!”

And if we were to give an award for the best individual performance in a variety or music program, it would have to go to my youngest son for his singing in the shower-- Everything from commercial ditties to Rock and Roll. I have considered installing speakers and a disco ball in there for him. We will soon be releasing his “Greatest Hits” CD in order to fund his college education.

Outstanding Choreography would have to go to my 14 year old son for his skill in dancing around the issues whenever he gets in trouble. He can give you an alternative explanation for ANYTHING. “But Mom, I didn’t hear you tell me to take out the garbage, because I was on the Internet, chatting with a friend who needed advice on his love life—and you’ve always told me to be a good friend and to help others.”

Speaking of the boys, if there is an award for best sound effects, it would have to go to them, hands down. Or should I say, “Hands over your nose?” I think that’s all I’ll say about that category. It stinks for itself.

After the real Academy Awards, all of the “after parties” begin. All the stars come out at night and party ‘til the limousine drivers come home. I guess that’s one thing we don’t have at our house—an after party. After my wife and I get all the kids to bed, even though the occasion calls for celebration, our bodies call for bed.

This brings me to the next category: Best Costume. If you are thinking glamorous night gowns or sexy lingerie, then you can put that thought to bed. My wife’s assortment of pajamas is known as the “Al Gore Collection” because it is so plain and boring.

Of course, I’m not much better myself. My favorite T-shirt to sleep in has more holes than a prairie dog patch. My wife has been threatening to give it the last rites. That reminds me, I haven’t seen that shirt in a while...

The last category is Best Direction for a Comedy. That would go to my wife and me, jointly, for our efforts in raising the kids. We try to make it a serious documentary, but somehow it the project always gets sidetracked by the kids.

Cut! And print it!

© Copyright 2003 Glen Davis