Sunday night, many of you will sit in front of your TV, eager to watch movie stars walk the red carpet, dressed to the nines, while they celebrate like its prom night. And some will walk up on that stage and accept an Oscar for a performance that would likely dim in comparison to any outstanding performance you’ve given over the past year.
For years we’ve all lived vicariously through movie stars. That’s about to change. I’m not just watching—I’m joining in. They already get paid wild amounts of money for the roles they’ve played. Yes, they’ve done a great job. So have we.
Think about it. If I was asked to dance with Bradley Cooper (Silver Linings Playbook), I wouldn’t expect any money… much less an Oscar. Seriously, that’s a dream, not a job.
Same goes for canoodling with George Clooney in the space shuttle, (Gravity). Believe me, I’d do it for free... with no award required to live out a fantasy of mine.
Look at your life. All the times you’ve had to “grin and bear it.” You probably deserved an Oscar for hiding your true feelings. The time you kept your silence as your boss patted himself on the back for something you did.
Or when you gave birth. Suffering through all that pain and anguish and acting like you never thought once about strangling your husband.
The time you pretended you absolutely loved your best friend’s boyfriend, even though he made your skin crawl.
Or the time your feelings were hurt by someone important to you who forgot your birthday, and you managed to act like you barely remembered it yourself.
The time your child stood on stage during his first grade school play and did nothing but pick his nose, yet you sat in the crowd with a smile pasted on your face as if you’d never been more proud.
All the disappointments. Time’s you’ve been passed over for a promotion, not getting picked for a team, a committee… whatever your yearning might be.
Think of your children, or grandchildren. I can vouch that every single grandchild of ours is worthy of an Oscar. They can go from giggles and gut-busting laughter to full-body-drenching waterworks in the time it takes you to turn around. And they can evoke such strong emotions from us (love, frustration, happiness...) just by "playing" themselves. Clearly they’re doing a great job to bring that kind of emotional response from us to the surface.
Haven't we all given performances worthy of an Oscar? I’m going to the Academy Awards and strutting down the red carpet—one way or another. I’ve earned it—I bet you have too.
Remember to rehearse your acceptance speech, and keep it short. You don’t want the orchestra to play you off the stage. You want to be invited back next year. I know I’m counting on it.