Oscars, etc.

Joe Queenan wrote this piece prior to the annual Oscars shindig where acting types congratulate each other for careers spent playing pretend for a living.http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704409004576146331571019642.html  Well, that's not entirely fair, but I liked Queenan's piece when he wrote it, probably because I pretty much agreed with everything he said which establishes me as some type of lackey or something.  Anyway, Queenan thought/thinks that last night's big winner, "The King's Speech" is a swell "Masterpiece Theater" caliber vehicle suitable for Sunday night viewing on your local PBS pledge drive station but it doesn't stack up to the entertainment offered in either "The Fighter" or "True Grit."  Agreed--saw all of them and the thought that occurred to me was that this is going to play out in the same way that it did when "Shakespeare in Love" won best picture over a field that included "Saving Private Ryan."  I've seen the former exactly once--in the theater--and it was nice and English and all but nothing compared to the latter which I've probably watched a dozen times and I'm guessing I'm not the only one in that category.  I've read that the Academy voters are compelled through guilt or feelings of inferiority or something to do with Ambien or whatever to give greater consideration to British productions--we're talking about idiots here--and maybe that's right but nevertheless disappointing when they miss the boat on outstanding stuff that's sitting right in front of them. 
In the meantime, can't wait to see "True Grit" again.
What else?  Let's see--took in "The Chieftains" this past Friday night.  Was prepared to be thoroughly underwhelmed and early indications that evening seemed to confirm that prediction.  The venue was the Riverbend Center which is an auditorium constucted on the grounds of Riverbend Church to host secular events and such--essentially a damn good idea by the Baptists to churn bucks out of the heathen community.  Problem is that the strongest thing you can buy at the goddamn Riverbend Center is coffee and bottled water and I had not properly pre-gamed for that reality when Mrs. Bulba and I showed up at the door.  Interesting crowd we soon discovered, heavily nerd-centric with lots of guys and gals who probably still own their first slide rule.  Dreadful opening "act" featuring a young songstress who moaned out navel gazing lyrics highly suitable for sipping free trade coffee while handing out "Hands Off Cuba!" leaflets.  Five (5) songs of this and it was mercifully time for The Chieftains, or what is left of them (I think they're down to two of the original Chieftains) as they are accompanied by four or five other demi-Chiefs.  I thought maybe they'd dutifully hammer out an hour of some of their new stuff with a few old standards mixed in and call it an evening--these boys are getting up there in age, after all.  No, instead it was a damn fine evening of entertainment which included some fine Irish dancing, great, great side musicians from Nashville, etc., a fine looking Irish babe who could really sing, and even a 30 piece drum and bagpipe corps.  In other words, an effort that Garrison Keilor could only wish he could produce.  A good time was had by all and we were out of there by 10:30 and I was drinking Laphroig by 10:45.

Top Talk

Hope they play forever: http://tracesoftexas.com/myblog/?p=142.

Bias in Academia?

You're shittin' me, right? http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/08/science/08tier.html?_r=4&src=me&ref=homepage.  Apparently, the NYT discovers something.  Pigs fly.

Just returned from the annual all male, though still largely heterosexual ski conclave, with this year's version in Park City, Utah.  No one was maimed or killed which was a success in itself.  Yours truly did get clipped not by an idiot snowboarder but by some fellow geriatric type which resulted in the privilege of eating about fifty yards of snow on one of the endless runs off of the King Con lift line.  Always interesting to note the various fleeting thoughts as you're sliding down the mountain--mine were largely in the areas of "this doesn't feel all that terrible" and "maybe drinking all that scotch wasn't such a bad idea after all." 
It's a trip that the wives are ecstatic that they're not included on and that's saying something in that they are usually highly pissed when we're having fun with them not around.  No, they much enjoy not being around men bent on eating as much bacon as possible, skiing up and down the mountain on a continuous loop between 9am and 4pm, and afterwards eating mounds of animal protein and throwing down single malt scotch products and then screaming curse words at one another over cards.  Noteworthy, is that I have not yet mentioned the other principal pursuits of the trip which include manufacturing a poisonous amount of natural gas and the ensuing strain on both the internal plumbing of the unfortunate owners of the rented condominium and the public works department of Park City, itself.  They're glad we're out of town.
We'll do it again next year.