I do not doubt that many people were disgusted with the never ending ubiquity of the Obamas now invading last night’s Academy Awards. But really, is it a shock?
They invade Late Night Television.
You can’t flip on the evening news without seeing these people.
Even Sesame Street isn’t safe anymore.
The Morning Shows, The Sunday Shows, Every third episode of 60 Minutes.
There is no end to it.
My Mom grew up in Germany during the Second World War. She was born about eight months before Hitler became Chancellor and was thirteen when Germany mercifully surrendered. Though she doesn’t speak much about that time of her life, she has shared with me a few items.
She told me that each and every citizen of Germany had to have a picture or portrait of Adolf Hitler in their home. She said every town had some Nazi official who would come by door-to-door to make sure your home had the ever present face of the Führer.
The Obamas are kind of like that.
We Americans apparently are not permitted to have an Obama-Free day.
You can’t sit down to the Super Bowl without first having to endure yet another interview with Barack.
So, why should the Oscars be any different?
I haven’t watched the Academy Awards since Julia Roberts presented the Best Actor award to Denzel Washington, and, like every self-centered, self-important Hollywood drip made it all about her by opening the envelope and hollering, “I love my life!!” Really, Julia? Did you give birth to Denzel? Coach him in his role in the dreadful Training Day? Why exactly is his winning the Oscar for Best Actor all about you?!
The Academy Awards is the internationally televised Hollywood Circle Jerk where the “stars” come out to pat themselves on the back, praise themselves, and bask in their own celebrity. Tons of cameras, millions of viewers, fawning, self-congratulatory praise, all those incredibly expensive gowns and jewelry. Oh, and did I mention tons of cameras.
Do you really think that any Obama could stay away from that?
Cameras? Expensive gowns? Good grief, it’s like catnip to Fluffy.
That’s like expecting a leech to avoid the obese guy wading through the stream. He isn’t going to pass up that enormous blood-filled target. And no Obama is going to avoid a night like the Oscars.
The Obamas are celebrity whores.
They desperately want to belong in the same orbit as the rich, famous and glamorous.
And, celebrities, publicity whores that they are, love, love, love when the Obamas are around because that means even more cameras, even more television coverage!!
It’s a win/win!
Not long ago, my brother and I were playing, “Where will they go next?” It’s the Obama version of “Anywhere but Here.” In this game, we try and figure out where the Obamas will go after the White House. My brother comes up with stuff like, “Obama is going to try and take over the European Union.” I think he’s watched The Omen series one too many times.
Personally, I always answer the same:
The Obamas, when they mercifully move out of the White House, will buy an estate in Malibu overlooking the Ocean and including its own heavily fortified, private beach. It will be two to three times the size of the White House. There will be a separate guest house on the property for Reggie Love (sort of Obama’s Kato Kaelin).
Every day, Michelle will be flitting in and out of every exceedingly expensive Rodeo Drive boutique, and every night will be another chic party in Beverly Hills where Michelle will be seen in some hideous, expensive gown hobnobbing with Beyonce, Jay-Z, Jennifer Hudson, and Jamie Foxx. Paparazzi, meanwhile, will chase after Barack while he and Reggie, after spending the day golfing, end up in West Hollywood – heaven only knows why.
Malia Obama will become the next in the long line of “God only knows why she’s famous” people following in the footsteps of the Kardashians, Nicole Ritchie and Paris Hilton. Always spotted at some club that she is way too young to legally enter, stumbling on the dance floor with her bevvy of unknown friends, and, at the end of the night, being poured back into her limo by some beefy Secret Service Agent who spends each and every day wondering what the hell he ever did wrong to get stuck with this assignment.
Given everything, is it really a surprise that an Obama showed up at the Oscars?
It’s a preview of coming attractions.