I knew last night seemed familiar as the Academy Awards dripped by. I was once again trapped in the living room of my grandmother's 1974 Florida mobile home. The room was stuffy; there was nowhere to go, even shuffleboard or laps on the awesome giant tricycles were forbidden to all under 65--and the pond had gators, reportedly.
Last night I watched my 40th consecutive Oscars. It began when I was in fifth grade with One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest sweeping the major awards. With the advent of cable TV's 400 more channels, Twitter-feeds and on-demand viewing a lot has changed--except for the Oscars.