'Oscars in a Bottle': Gone to the Dogs
 Popcorn Column
by Michael S. Goldberger
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 Muffin chews over his picks for this year's Oscars. |
Dear readers, this attempt to apprise you of my picks for the 87th Academy Awards, to be broadcast Sunday night, Feb. 22, is a longshot, literally and figuratively. I can only hope my missive, sent telepathically from my current place or dimension — I'm really not sure which — reaches the news outlet you are now reading. I guess the great fault lies with my excessive viewing of science fiction films.
All that time spent in different universes, parallel realities, time continuum anomalies and ingeniously imagined, hypothetical existences, has taken its toll. Overthinking the Rubik Cube:like possibilities of infinitesimal other worlds, mentally dashing from one matrix to the next Twilight Zone, it occurs that I have wafted into somewhere just north of pi, or p if you prefer, while my GPS simply reads 3.141592+. It is little consolation that the confused little gizmo also informs that an alternate route will save me two minutes.
There are three moons here, the colors of Neapolitan ice cream: vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. It kind of makes me hungry and wishing I could eat the old:fashioned way, though the essence vapors delivered, I can only assume by radio waves, keep me rather satiated and probably at a good weight, though I'm not sure such a concept exists here. Oh, there was a large order of chicken McNuggets came sailing through the prismatic portal one day. The "Use By" date read "Enjoy before the next millennium," so I guessed they were OK and ate them.
I know, you're worried that I'm lonely. But tut, tut ... no need, faithful subscriber. You see, I'm sure that in time, of which there is no shortage here, the old friends who have so graciously welcomed me, will sniff out the storied outer space/relativity Hansel and Gretel Crumb Path, which, legend says, leads directly to the men's room at NYC's Port Authority Bus Terminal. It's a short ride home from there.
Oh, I best explain about my furry hosts. You see, I've had several dogs, starting with Blackie, a cocker spaniel who disappeared after only one day when I was 5. When I inquired as to his whereabouts, just as with the progression of canines that followed him, my parents informed that he went to The Farm. Well, it appears this is The Farm. Blackie was followed by my first favorite dog, Taffy, a mutt wire:haired terrier with a perfect black eye and a penchant for chasing cars. He avoided The Farm for seven years.
Chipper, an adult when we got him, was, we figured, an English spaniel and the only pet in the progression of Goldberger pooches who was dyspeptic. We treated him well. But he just didn't like us, bore a grudge for some reason, and was probably really happy when he skipped town for The Farm. Suzy, a boxer, was sweet, but only a temporary boarder until my sister's boyfriend's parents acceded to the idea of a dog.
Tuffy, not to be confused with Taffy, was a beautiful German shepherd and a formidable wrestling opponent, who ultimately gained forgiveness for imbibing an entire Thanksgiving turkey she whisked from the counter when no one was looking. No wonder she hid under Mom and Dad's bed until we assured her she wasn't going to The Farm ... at least not yet
Fagin, part Russian wolfhound, half Airedale, was another drop:off ... for eight years. Richie, a family friend, asked if we'd watch this biggest:yet member of our kennel cavalcade while he attended college and then medical school. He never came to visit Fagin — not once — however, after becoming Dr. Richie, made a house call to claim him.
Not to overload the psychic circuit, stories about Tibble, a miniature pinscher, and Lyla, a Chihuahua who followed his tenure, must be deferred for now. But I can't leave out Muffin, the 17:pound king of the Yorkshire terriers purchased in puppyhood so that our daughter, Erin, might enjoy the bliss and comfort of dog ownership. An iconoclast from snout to tail, Muffin loved us all, but not unconditionally. His sense of fairness was near constitutional. His motto: What's good for the human is good for the dog ... especially when it comes to food.
So while my esteemed eating pal wasn't quick to exonerate if he felt slighted, he might occasionally be won over with a bit of liver or a morsel of General Tso's Chicken, which he insisted was spelled Tsao and authoritatively noted had no connection to its military namesake.
When I wanted to tease him, I'd tell him he wasn't my favorite dog — that Taffy was. To which Muffin, my only dog who could talk, and in a mellifluous, beautifully enunciated Yorkshire accent at that, simply replied, "You're a sad, sad man, Mike." He went to his reward on the cosmic farm when he was 78 in dog years. Alas, I had hoped to get another 30,000 miles out of him, so it's gratifying to find that he and his predecessors have achieved immortality.
In any case, since Muffin had been for years the brains behind my Oscar prognostications, the occasion of our reunion prompted him to again offer his services. He couldn't help but note how my predictions had fallen off since he, uh, hightailed it for the stars. In session with my shaggy soothsayers, led of course by Muffin, I was told to just listen quietly while they ruminated the following picks. I can only hope they reach you if they're right, and are lost in space if wrong.
Best Picture: "American Sniper"; Best Performance by an Actor: Bradley Cooper for "American Sniper"; Best Performance by an Actress: Rosamund Pike for "Gone Girl"; Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role: Edward Norton for "Birdman"; Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role: Patricia Arquette for "Boyhood"; Best Achievement in Directing: Alejandro González Iñárrito for "Birdman"; Best Original Screenplay: Alejandro González Iñárrito, Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris and Armando Bo for "Birdman"; Best Adapted Screenplay: Graham Moore for "The Imitation Game"; Best Animated Feature:"How to Train Your Dragon 2"; Best Foreign Language Film: "Ida"; Best Cinematography: "Birdman"; Best Editing: "Boyhood"; Best Production Design: "The Grand Budapest Hotel"; Best Costume Design: "The Grand Budapest Hotel"; Best Makeup and Hairstyling:"The Grand Budapest Hotel"; Best Original Score: Hans Zimmer for "Interstellar"; Best Original Song: Glen Campbell, for "I'm not Gonna Miss You," from "I'll Be Me"; Best Sound Mixing: "Interstellar"; Best Sound Editing: "American Sniper"; Best Visual Effects: "Interstellar"; Best Documentary, Feature: "Last Days in Vietnam"; Best Documentary, Short Subject: "Joanna"; Best Short Film, Animated: "Feast"; Best Short Film, Live Action: "Boogaloo and Graham."
