The Clap! Awards and their issues
Chris Rock managed to successfully dribble Jesus out of Will Smith’s system by joking about his wife’s lack of hair. It was a hair-raising infraction and Will casually walked across to the stage and beat the living daylights out of Chris with a single red hot clap.
Of course you might disagree that he ‘beat the living daylights’ out of Will but these were Oscars and in acting speak that is akin to doing exactly that. Some say comedians are susceptible to those moments of trusting a fart while having an upset stomach. And this one here fart just let the back exit flow. With egg all over his face Chris rallied with some whimpering light moment but the air had been sucked out of his sails. I’ve seen more life in a tramp’s string vest.
Most of us are bandwagonists and we jumped in, determined to stick our knives in. Some ended on the Smith’s back while others knives went for the Rock’s jugular. Even borderline bandwagonists waded in. If you are new millennium compliant you just can’t let such a moment pass. Locals who seemed to be on first name terms with Will started talking about his character. ‘Oh I know Will would not do that unless he’s provoked’, ‘Will is a forgiving guy but this time Rock crossed the line’ ‘That is my man Will. You don’t make fun of his wife’.
Oscars are serious awards where the possibility of high octane drama always looms large. Locally, we do not have such kind of drama. The closest we have come to this is when a middle-of-the-road artist with an interesting name, Senyomfere, brought a snake to the awards to ‘convince’ the judges to give him an award.
Judges nowadays are not intimidated by snakes and the poor artist only managed to make himself fodder for the Wildlife authorities. There was also a time when an imported MC made half the country wait while she got an outfit designed for the show. Now most of us know the drill for getting an outfit ready.
First of all, you have to go to the designer to be measured. After several days you go back for be re-measured and the designer will write the measurements on a little paper and put it away. After a few days the designer might call you again because they have lost the little piece of paper.
You get measured once more.
However, this time during your visit to the designer your face sports a permanent scowl. You will then be assured that you will get your outfit in time for the event. The event will now be a week away. On a daily basis you go to the tailor to apply some gentle pressure. Sometimes you bring along reinforcements like an argumentative cousin.
After your cousin lays it on thick the outfit is still not ready. The penny then drops –arguing with tailors does not in any way result in finished outfits. The subsequent visits are desperate and you are now basically pleading with the tailor to finish your outfit. At this point the leverage has shifted to the tailor because there’s no chance you can engage a different tailor because it would be too late. If you are part of a wedding train and your luck holds you will get your outfit just before the couple exchanges vows. By then the bride or groom has a permanent cramp from glancing over their back to check whether you will join. You will then make a notso-grand entrance with half the well-wishers sneering at your tardiness.
I am sure the MC knew all about the GC tailors and she went to a special one who could churn out an outfit in three hours. Quite a spectacular feat by any standards! I am sure this one must have been from the same guy that sold Jack his beanstalk beans.
This was drama almost at Oscar level. Imagine keeping a whole crowd and viewers at home waiting while your outfit is being designed. I believe when she finally got the outfit half the patrons were dozing while another half must have gone home. What a wasted night.
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Judges nowadays are not intimidated by snakes and the poor artist only managed to make himself fodder for the Wildlife
authorities