I Would Like to Smack the Academy...

Academy Awards, oh, how long have I adored thee - years, nay, decades?

Yet even with my blind, undiluted loyalty - not to mention my dressing up for the occasion with my best nightgown-that-looks-most-like-an-evening-gown - you give zilch in return.

I mean it, I'm ticked. This is my Super Bowl, damn it, but I was feeling letdown way before halftime. True, some of the evening was entertaining and the hosts were funny (when they were on), but I've been with you long enough that, damn it, I have the right to be nit-picky.

So here's what drove me crazy at last night's Academy Awards:

* Ryan Seacrest is a schmuck. He's like that guy in college who greets you like an old buddy when you're threw a big party and then totally brushes you off in Philosophy Through the Ages class the next day. Seacrest was in the midst of interviewing Queen Latifah on the Red Carpet and when he spied George Clooney, he practically climbed over her to canoodle up to Georgie Boy. Latifah was trapped and had to stand there like a big Third Wheel while Ryan drooled all over Clooney. It was embarrassing to watch. I wished the Queen had just up and walloped that little pipsqueak.

* LOVE Neil Patrick Harris' energy, but didn't we see that same Broadway production number from him before?  Are there no new ideas in Hollywood?

* So little time, so many techie awards. For instance, "sound" and "sound editing" - can't they be combined? Then we'd only have to endure one speech about how you were "drawn to sound as a young child in your crib..."

* Speaking of sound, every time one of the presenters clapped - and they did a lot of that - did it sound as if only three people in the entire theater were applauding? The sound was repeatedly echo-y and incredibly annoying. Where was the mike -strapped to Steve Martin's forefinger?

* The dance interpretation number: Why? WHy? WHY? This NOT the Tony Awards, ladies and gentlemen.

* Salute to horror films. Why? WHy? WHY? What's next year - a salute to animated foreign language murder mysteries?

* The noive of that broad who upstaged the documentary short winner. Again, a sucker punch from Queen Latifah would have been in order.

* What's with the audience members, people on the Red Carpet, presenters, etc., who chew gum with abandon? You have billions of viewers tuning in, people, LOSE THE CHICLETS!

* And speaking of presenters, if an actor has an unhealthy, bordering-on-psychotic fear of appearing on stage (I know - oh, the irony), then DON'T INVITE THEM TO PRESENT AN AWARD. Refer to the Academy directory - there are scads of other actors who will gladly oblige!

* Who selected the background music - Lawrence Welk or Mitch Miller?

* When the best actor folks had someone on stage individually laud them and the camera focused on their reaction, it was painfully slow and frozen-smile, please-let-this-be-over-soon awkward.  

* The show started at 8:30 EST and wrapped-up after midnight. Why can't it start at 8:00 and finish at 11ish because, ya know, the rest of us non-celebrities have to work the next day. Make some of those recipients hustle up to the stage a little faster and with a little effort, I think, next year, WE CAN MAKE IT WORK! (Maybe we need Tim Gunn to encourage everyone to pick up the pace...)

So that's what drove me bonkers about last night's show.

But the truth is, Academy, even if you stick with the same tired formula next year, you just know I'm going to stand by you. Yes, I pick you apart unmercifully, but underneath it all, it's apparent that I love you unconditionally. Oscar, baby, it's you and me, no matter what. After all, as I'm sure you are aware, I'm no box of chocolates myself...