THE HUNG OVER GLOBE

A few words on one of my favorite yearly parties, The Golden Globe Awards. I am one of those who enjoys watching beauty contests and award shows, mainly because I like seeing people happy. We know the winners won't be remembered for their success--even by most people who hear of their prizes-- for longer than a day, if that. We all know people and moments are expendable as air. But still, witnessing the joy is great, and the glam, gossip (and sometimes even speeches) divine.

This year was no exception, with its high points, and lows. The high points--Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, and most especially, Amy's reference to "Hillary's husband." And the lovely couple, Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner, who would almost have you believe that you can have a happy marriage (with children along with success) in Hollywood; and Daniel Day Lewis's speech--surely, by all accounts, the most heartfelt and eloquent of the evening. The low points--the dissing of Spielberg's masterful film, Lincoln, save for Lewis's garnering best actor; and Jennifer Lawrence's snarky and totally unnecessary remark when she won: "I beat Meryl."

Jodi Foster's speech about privacy, fame and longevity in Hollywood rests somewhere in the middle. Last night, it left me, and probably a million other viewers, rather perplexed. What did she mean? Were we supposed to switch her off while understanding her "deeply"? Were we supposed to peer close, while pretending not to see or hear her? I wasn't sure what she was saying, except "it's lonely at the top"--Even with all her wealth, success, good health, great looks, mate of 20-plus years, two sons, and very good friends that she thanked last night. Very lonely. And yet, I couldn't muster the pity and compassion she wanted me to feel for her. Poor thing, receiving a lifetime achievement award. At 50.

But at the same time, I can say this is what I did like about Ms. Jodi Foster's moment: Her speech included the invisible folks up in the balcony, appreciation for the much maligned (rightly or wrongly is irrelevant) Mel Gibson, a story about her lesbianism, and reassertions of her defiant wish for privacy in a world where reality shows predominate. These declarations made me feel proud of her, in a way; made me feel she is valiant, sort of. Oh well, in the aftermath of Jodi's acceptance speech, I kind of respect and like her and wish her well.

Kudos to all. Thanks for the laughs, Amy and Tina, and Kristen and Will, who almost did steal the show.