The Scent of the Oscars

High atop the Emerald City, in a penthouse pad that's suitable for a Superhero (which, by the way, I understand is worth in the ball-park of a cool $10 bills), a certain guy tries to work his magic to throw one of the most elegant and well-appointed shin-digs you'll find this side of La-La Land. Be impressed (he wants you to be). And I was... Truly.

For the first time in four years, I will not be attending "his" Oscar Party, and, I should say, I have mixed emotions. He, by the way, is my Ex's very dearest friend in the whole world, "Little Lord Flaunts it A Lot, " or maybe, for better taste sake, "Mr. Opulence," "The Big O," or for simplicity sake, just, "B.O."

Actually, full credit for the affair does not go to B.O, but to his ex-lover of almost 20 years. B.O. broke up with him two years ago, and like all couples, they had two sides, two distinct personalities that blended into one. B.O. was the "serious" side, and his partner, who was the gregarious, the bubbly, and the effervescent one, created the social veneer. He was the straw who stirred the drink, organized the affair, circulated among the guests, and B.O. paid the bills, and looked eternally flustered and furtive.

Just imagine sashaying through Titanic-sized rooms, daintily nibbling on delectable finger-foods while chatting with a Pantheon of guests. While traipsing along, you peer through a seemingly endless glass window overlooking, on two sides, the entire lighted city night-scape. On the third side is a panoramic view of the charming, yet rugged Puget Sound. If you're not careful, you will be seduced by the natural beauty, but the show is inside.

The piece de resistance is the eleven-seat home movie theater fully equipped with deep-cushioned leather theater seats and temperature control. If that's too cushy for you, you can always move out to the living area where a Godzilla-Vision TV Screen awaits. And I know that if you really needed your privacy, there'd still be several sets available in one of bathrooms, bedrooms, or sitting rooms in that 3-story Xanadu.

Like any veneer, after Lover left, the social side of B.O's veneer began to crack and fade. In 2011 and 2012, the Oscar Parties were still opulent, but the crowd dwindled substantially, and the spirit was rather polite and subdued, almost melancholic. For all that was said about the ex-lover, he did know how to throw a great party, and make guests feel at ease. The same could not be said of B.O. Let's say that if you had to equate the level good times to that of an aroma, B.O's parties lived up to his nick-name.

A couple of days ago my Mother said, let's have an Oscar Party, and I all I could think was... B.O - well, not just him, but the our circumstances right now... Mom, me, and my step-father who is in an Alzheimer's, nearly vegetative state. The Picture of the Year is "Lincoln," a film about the hard, cold, tragic Civil War - the bloodiest conflict in Human History. I almost said no, then I thought about B.O, and how hard he tried to create an ambiance. Then I thought about us with the ambiance of "What Ever Happened Baby Jane," and I realized, that is Hollywood! Pass the Ritz Crackers and Cheese Whiz. Now that smells like fun...