OSCAR EDITION 

     A couple of weeks before she committed suicide, my friend, Robin, called me and left a lovely, supportive message about the blog I had stopped writing 3 or 4 years ago. She encouraged me to get back to writing and told me she thought I was good at it; maybe I could even make some money on it. Every day since I learned about her death, I thank God I called her back when I did. Our conversation was nothing special. I heard no hint of the anguished Robin who found her life too difficult to bear. Instead, we chatted about her new career. She had just finished earning a degree as a Radiologic Technologist scraping her education together by selling possessions and asking friends for donations. She sounded practical about the future as she began to search for a job. Her laugh, a laugh Eddie Murphy would envy, still periodically burst through her pain. 

   We also talked, as people our age do, about the difficulties of dealing with our aging parents. Her mother was suffering from Alzheimer’s as my late father had, and Robin had successfully (and without much help from her siblings) placed her mother in a memory care facility and sorted her finances for her. (In fact, Robin was ensuring her mother would be cared for in her absence.) I thanked Robin for her kind message as I mumbled some excuse about not having time to write because of my demanding job in television. I came up with other lame excuses to throw in the way of simply buckling down and writing. She said she hoped I would find the time, and we said our goodbyes. A few weeks later I learned she had taken her life. Most of her friends were as stunned by her depression and subsequent suicide as I was. After the shock settled, I realized Robin left me a gift-a reminder that I have an opportunity to contribute something of my own, however small, to the world. A reminder to live this life fully. Peace and thank you, Robin. 

SEE.

   Ugh. The Oscar season.  It used to be easy-five elite, stunning cinematic masterpieces carefully crafted in the hopes of earning that little, gold man. Now there are as many films nominated as there are obscure awards shows to honor them. You have to use all of your vacation and sick days to see them, and, frankly, some of them will leave you nostalgic for the snobby Academy selectivity of yore. Here’s my two cents. Good luck to you. 

American Hustle (129 minutes)- Try to remember it’s a comedy, and laugh at the dialogue not the hair. I know people who still rock that hair.

Captain Phillips (134 minutes)-It’s Tom Hanks so you’re required by law to see it. Good on that Somali guy for getting nominated for something. Anyway, you know how it ends so you don’t have to watch the whole thing.

Dallas Buyers Club (117 minutes)-Not a great overall picture, but you have to see Matthew McConaughey and Jared Leto’s performances because they’re gonna win so, suck it up.

Gravity (91 Minutes)-There is not a relaxing moment in this movie so schedule your massage and/or therapy session now.

Her (126 minutes)-Quirky (I hate that word) and unusual. My mother would hate this movie.

Nebraska (110 minutes)-If you live near here or you repeatedly enter the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes, this movie is for you.

 Philomena (94 minutes)-We love Judi. Still, this can be seen on Netflix.

 12 Years a Slave (133 minutes)-The truest “film” of the bunch, but how depressed do we want to be exactly?

The Wolf of Wall Street (179 minutes)-Try to remember it’s a comedy.

EAT.

   Nothing. You may do a juice cleanse if you desire (I certainly won’t label you a douchebag), but no solid food until you squeeze your Barre Method loving body into a size 2 gown (or some similarly small tuxedo).

SHOP.

   I want to introduce you to a product that will tie all of these movies together but I can’t. Judging by the running times, I have determined that the only thing that these films might have in common is that you will spend an eternity in your seat. (The exceptions being Gravity and Philomena. Small comfort.) Total running time for all nine-1,113 minutes. My suggestion is…muscle relaxants. I can’t sit for two hours without my back giving out, never mind almost 19 hours. Usually, you’d need a prescription (unless you’re in Canada), but luckily there is an herbal alternative-Crystal Star Muscle Relaxer. Does it work? No idea. But, after hour two of The Wolf of Wall Street has come and gone, with another 59 minutes left to go, you’re gonna use whatever is handy. Available on Amazon (http://www.amazon.com/Crystal-Star-Muscle-Relaxer-Caps/dp/B0006SVZQY). Yeah, I’d consult your doctor first, and then stock up and get yourself to the theaters before March 2. Let the race begin.