After semi-watching the Oscars last night (much pausing, a few backtracks, a lot of distraction and fast forwarding), I only have two things to note.
One: I am so happy that Bret McKenzie won an Oscar, and that he won it for a song with/for/about muppets. True story: when Sweetie and I went to see the movie, we watched the credits to see who wrote the music and couldn't figure out who this brilliant Bret guy was. Then, thanks to the magic of a search engine, it was determined that we're idiots. We're so used to hearing and saying his name as Brit--thanks to the kiwi accents of Flight of the Conchords and us making fun of them in more recent years--that we forgot his name is actually Bret.
Two: Thanks to the little video clips of people talking about movies that were important to them in their childhood, I briefly relived the magic of the first Star Wars movie. I barely remember seeing it, myself--I can pinpoint the theater and liking the little jawa guys and being freaked out by the trash compactor monster, but it didn't really stick. My earliest movie memory--I was 4.5 years old, at a drive-thru with my family--is Blazing Saddles. Aside from loving the whole thing (particularly the musical number at the end), the ridiculous bean scene where a bunch of cowboys eat baked beans and fart around a campfire was oddly life-changing for me. While brothermine might challenge my memory of this, I recall the childhood home as being essentially a gas-free place. An occasional unvoidable burp demanded a politely horrified apology, and farting simply didn't happen, certainly not when anyone else was present, and possibly not even when alone because if it did in fact happen, it was certainly never admitted to. Sort of an "if a tree falls in a forest" propostion.
This one scene surprised me for two reasons. First--I discovered adults are capable of farting. Second--my dad thought it was the goddamn funniest thing on planet earth. Considering that a year and a half ago I hosted a hilarity-filled Thanksgiving where the conversation revolved around desserts named "corn dump" and there was much reminiscing about variations on typing 58008 (I preferred 5318008) into calculators, I suspect that I imprinted on the bean scene more than I ever realized.