Entertainment industry awards are commercial ventures. No one from television viewers through the local live audience to the award hopefuls and then the winners and the backstage people and the hosts and then the tv industry itself is exempt from the commercial backdrop and wash that colors the whole thing. Think on that and then wonder what goes through the hearts of the people who recieve such honors which are not really honors.
Here's one guy speaking out after being honored enough that he gets to immortalize his hand and foot prints in concrete at Grauman's Chinese Theater.
I don't mean to imply that Henry thought this way. This is just an illustrative image, one among so many I could have chosen. However, I could not choose a woman's slab. A woman never would have written this poem just this way. At least I don't think so.
My Last Award
It's an old movie
with the old stars attending
while my path takes me
to the fresh concrete
and my hands squish hollowed prints,
stony memory.
I sign with flourish
and accept your pinned corsage
on my flabby chest.
November 28, 2010 6:24 AM
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.