Oh boy, oh boy, let’s get in to our comfy yoga pants, pop some popcorn and crawl under a blankie, because its here! The kick-off to the “Hollywood Awards Season”! The Golden Globes!
Ok, that’s the most excitement I can muster. Really, I tried. Sure, I’ll tune in for a bit…but only until my beloved Downton Abbey comes on, then I’ll change the channel. Just like many of us real humans, I find awards shows mildly entertaining. The red carpet is a fascinating display of excess, where the beautiful, rich and bold preen for the cameras and must look completely thrilled to answer insipid questions like “how does it feel to be here tonight?” and “what designer are you wearing?” We at home gleefully discuss how each one of them looks, how they act, and what they say. And, for me, there are always a number red carpet sightings that cause me to ask my husband, (as if he knows any better than I), “who the heck is that?” or “oh, wait, that’s what’s-his-face, he was on that show we used to watch…what was it called?”
There will be many shows and movies nominated for which I’m totally clueless – have not watched, nor even heard about. I enjoy some TV shows, and once in a blue moon get out to see a movie. But I rarely am familiar with the top nominees. And I’m not up to speed on celebrity gossip. I honestly don’t really care who broke up with who, who had who’s baby, and how much someone got in a divorce settlement. I have enough to keep track of in real life, to really care much about these folks’ personal lives. They are light years beyond by lifestyle, so I really don’t feel any sort of connection to them.
What amazes me is that there is actually an “Award Season.” In most other industries, there are singular awards given out for annual competitions. You enter whatever it is, and you may or may not win. But in Hollywood, if you don’t win a Golden Globe, you could still win an Emmy, an Oscar, a Grammy, a SAG, a Peabody…. possibly even a Teen Choice. Gosh, dressing up in gowns, putting on million dollar jewels, getting crammed into a theater, and looking thrilled to not win over and over must be exhausting.
And then there are the hosts. Now those celebs have got to feel pressure. All eyes are on them to be witty, smart and entertaining, all in front of their peers. If they flop, they won’t be asked back. If they do a good job, they are heralded as being so darn outstanding, they should receive their own Host Award.
As I sit here watching, or at least sort of watching (I need to paint my nails, after all), I wonder what it would be like to have an Award Show for Real Women. For doing outstanding Real Women things. Here are a few of the award categories we could consider:
Best Supper Preparation by a Mom on a Tight Schedule
Most Outstanding At-Home Hair Color
Safest Mom Taxi
Speediest and Most Efficient Grocery Shopper
Outrageously Exhausted Care Giver to Elder Family Member
Most Talented Chef for Re-use of Leftovers
Most Effectively Embarrassing Mom In Front of Teen Child
Highest Fashion Achievement at Lowest Budget
Greatest Attempt at Regular Exercise
Best Actor in the I Love to Eat Healthy Category
Most Exceptional Multi-Tasking Family Manager
Best Special Effects by Using Anti-Wrinkle Cream
Our Award Show would be fabulous. In place of the red carpet outside a glitzy famous theater, we could use the sidewalk outside a Target Store. Our Host would be Melissa McCarthy, because she is someone we love, who can make us laugh until we cry, and is the only celebrity we can come close to relating to. Rather than gowns, sparkling heels and flashy jewelry, we’d fashionably show off our best errand-running style in jeans, sweats, or wrinkled-was-fresh-this-morning business casual. When asked “How does it feel to be here tonight?” We’d answer “Great. My feet hurt, my back aches, my son/daughter needs a white shirt for a concert tomorrow, I have 35 minutes to find one, get home, make dinner, and get everyone to their music lessons/sports practices. So can we move this along?” When asked “What Designer are your wearing?” We’d answer “My top is from Walmart, my pants are from the sale rack at Dress Barn, and my shoes are older than my first child, so I don’t remember where they came from.”
The Award itself, rather than being a heavy gold statue, would be either a pretty new scarf we could wear to work, or one of those Inspirational Quote Plaques we all love, but won’t admit we do. The Top Award of the evening would be a vacation to a spa, and we would ALL yearn to win it.
One thing is for sure. As we watch our peers step forward to receive their awards, our applause would not be fake golf claps accompanied by plastic smiles. We would truly, 100%, be thrilled that one of our own was recognized for her outstanding talent, perseverance and strength. And 48 minutes later, when the Award Show was efficiently over, completed, cleaned up and we headed home, we would know that without doing anything outside our regular routines, we could be nominated for recognition again the following year.
Just by being our every day, fabulous selves.