While on my weekly charitable pilgrimage through local orphanages, a slight tug at my sleeve caused the cigarette ash to land at the feet of one of the younger foundlings. He was a ragged, dirty-faced little fellow named Johnny.
“Mr. Marks,” he inquired in a timid tone.
“Yes, son,” I replied, extinguishing the butt.
Looking down and shuffling his feet, the urchin muttered, “There was no live Oscar-blog to distract me from last year’s presentation of the Academy Awards. It sure would make me happy if you’d do one this year.”
Say no more, Johnny. Your prayers have been answered. And I promise to knock as many jokes over the center field wall for the lad as possible.
You may never get to meet Johnny, but chances are, without your help, he won’t make it. Please join me this Sunday night for The Big Screen’s Almost-Annual Oscar Blogathon. Your contributions could mean the difference between life and three-and-a-half hours of slow, self-aggrandizing death.