Why I Never Watch the Ocars (or the Grammys)

In 1993 I was asked by a friend whose name rhymes with Grad Billespie to attend his company’s awards ceremony.

We drove to Aspen Colorado in the springtime for his dinner and awards banquet. The company (which rhymes with Renterprise Ment A Far) went all out. We stayed at the Four Seasons, and the dinner was exquisite.

Unfortunately my friend Grad had told me that we’d have two double beds, and we had one. No problem, we’ll just call for a rollaway bed and he’ll sleep on it.

And then I had a glass of wine, and overheard Grad telling a mutual acquaintaince, “I’ll be sleeping with that tonight.” Which gave me permission to behave poorly at a totally boring event.

I sat at a round table for eight in a huge ballroom and realized at the tender age of 23 that I was witnessing Renterprise Ment A Far’s Academy Awards. None of it mattered to me, none of it affected my life, little of it actually mattered for Reneterprise’s business either.

These self congratulatory awards shows are neither original, interesting nor relevant. I don’t care who rents out the most cars, or which mechanic changes oil the best. I don’t care who the best actor is, because I don’t care what actors think of each other. I don’t care who does the best lighting or the best sound. I’m not interested in who directs movies. I just want to see a movie and be left alone. The oscars are as relevant to my life as the Renterprise Ment A Car awards ceremony.

Grad Billespie did win employee of the year. Unfortunately I’d left midway through dinner, found a little nightclub with a great local band and returned to the hotel just after 2am.

I slept on the cot, and the drive home was long and silent.

 

 

Yes, the winner trophy is a nod to Charlie Sheen, epic winner.

 

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