While I was greatly relieved to make note of the fact that the days are once again starting to grow longer, I still found myself having a bit of a dark day recently. At first, I tossed it off to the fact that the Golden Globes was not being televised this year due to its problems with correcting its apparent political incorrectness and NBC not wanting to bet so much money on broadcasting it. While I acknowledge the rightness of this decision, it is still a big deal loss for me as I love award shows and the Golden Globes kick off the awards seasons. I love the red carpet, the fashion, the speeches. Especially the mandatory speech where the stunned-looking winner stands, statue in hand, and tells the entire world if they could win such an award, every little boy and girl should hold onto their dreams, and they too could one day see their dreams come true. To which I start yelling, “Yes!” to the tv, to the actor, to nobody in my living room. And the little girl in me remembers all the dreams I’ve held onto for a lifetime…winning a gold medal at the Olympics for swimming, an Oscar for acting or designing costumes, a Grammy for Best Album, or song or artist of the year. I love identifying with the winner, and subsequently feel bad for the losers, whose faces flash across the screen and who try to make believe they are sincerely happy for the winner. The whole show is just a roller coaster of emotions to which I enthusiastically buy a front row seat on my couch every year in the middle of the dark, gloomy days of winter. The countdown to each award show seems to make January and February somehow pass more quickly.
But not this year…this year, along with the other gazillion things Covid and this politically correct yet so incorrect political world has upended, I have now added being deprived of the privilege of zoning out on award show fantasy only to be faced with real life for another 24/7.
January and February historically are my roughest time of the year emotionally, it seems. I don’t think I’m alone in this since there is that thing called SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) with lack of light being the main culprit. And smack in the middle of the dark days, February 14th comes right on time to shine a light on the total lack of romantic spark in my humble human existence. Maybe February 14th could be changed from celebrating commercially tainted romantic love to celebrating SAD, and make a day, or how about 365 days, where everyone is obligated to cheer someone up in a real way. Forget the Hallmark card and actually show up for someone. That makes so much more sense to me.
So, with no red carpets being rolled out on the big screen this year, I think I’ll roll one out myself, put on the most frivolous dress I can still fit into in my closet, put on my N-95 fitted mask and find someone who needs to be rewarded with some love and kindness. Because at the end of the day, who couldn’t use some of that, after all…don’t we all?
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