The Surprise in Oscar’s Strength

Last Sunday, I watched the Oscars from beginning to end for the first time ever. This departure from my regular Sunday routine is a mystery because nothing else was different.

I still have the attention span of a blackfly. My dog was on the brink of protest if not walked, and my home was in its typical weekend disarray — giant towers of dishes in the sink and a laundry pile as daunting as Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Yet, I was captivated by the ceremony, glued to the screen, chores, and a small, black Chiweenie forgotten.

Unlike the wardrobe parade down the red carpet that I usually tune in for, what resonated with me wasn’t the glitz or glamor but the raw, unfiltered humanity displayed in the winner’s speeches.

Suddenly, these looming heroes of our screens allowed us a glimpse into the kaleidoscope of their souls.

Within seconds of opening his mouth, the world understood Robert Downey Jr. on another level. “I’d like to thank my terrible childhood and the Academy in that order.”

Through humor and tenderness, he exposed the most vulnerable sides of his heart, allowing us a deep view of him from his own perspective. When Downey thanked his wife, “[…] she found me, a snarling rescue pet, and loved me back to life.”