Sure Bet

While watching some teevee together last night, the wife mentions that the Oscars will be on this weekend. I’m no fan of the “You’re so great! Yes I am! You are too! Thanks I know!” vibe the whole event gives off, especially when so many people are hurting due to the man Hollywood helped put in power. But she watches such shows, in part because she’s in the fashion industry and these people, like it or not, are trendsetters.

Anyway, she says that the heavy lady from Mike and Molly might upset the black actress from The Help for the supporting actress Oscar. (Were there any politically incorrect words in that previous sentence? I honestly can’t tell anymore.) I disagree. I think The Help will sweep the awards. It’ll even take home Best Special Effects, I predict.

The wife disagrees. “Listen,” I say, “that movie is the kinda story Hollywood 2012 loves.”

I elaborate: “If I really wanted to lift us – our family – out of this economic malaise, make some real money, like millions-of-dollars type of money, I’d write a story about the first female black judge. Publishers would be clawing and scratching each other, climbing over each other to publish my book. Especially if I can show how she triumphed over some form of white racism. Hollywood would be throwing all kinds of cash at me to buy the rights to such a book.”

“So why don’t you?” she shoots back.

“Cuz I have absolutely no interest in the subject. I want to write about spaceships and aliens and the future and whatnot, and somehow throw God into the mix. “

Wife (thought, not spoken, since I can read her thoughts after a decade of marriage): We’re gonna be poor for the rest of our lives.