For the first time in many years I have no patience for the 2015 Oscars ceremony.

Oh, I will probably tune into the Red Carpet, just so I can rail about  vapid Juliana Rancic as she locks her lips to the egos of the movie stars.

The political dust-up over the inequality of the film industry makes me philosopical about the injustice the millionaires and entitled endure.

I am sure making movies, being in movies and everything about movies is tough in every way.

​Naturally, I try to understand how unfair things can be in the world of entertainment. But, Hollywood does not have a lock on that situation.

So, I wish them well as they strive for righting the wrongs of HollywoodLand. 

Bette Davis tried it all those years ago, and look where things stand today. 

Exactly. 

Things are still not equal. Things never will be, but keep fighting the fight, that is what our country was founded on. I think.

Which brings me to how truly inane the Academy Awards seem, when you step back and cast a jaded-eye upon it.

All those Hollywood types fussing and fuming over receiving a little statue for a job well done at the end of each year, is amusing.

Yes, let's think about this from the point of view of a normal (plain folks trying to earn a living), like me.

I write ficitional books and blogs like this one, and never get nominated for any sort of award. 

The landscapers around here, could use some recognition. Let's not forget our favorite servers at our favorite restaurants, or those stars of waste management. Imagine awarding a statue to the janitorial staff at any institution. Well, you get my point, there will never be a Price-Waterhouse glittery envelope with the names of...plain people being great.

All year long, folks do mundane tasks so others have a better life. Wouldn't it be nice to have designers begging regular types to dress in their latest off-the-runway designs? 

Then for weeks and weeks, regular Janes and Joes are wined, dined, photographed, interviewed and discussed.

Then, at the end of a special evening have a heavy golden statue slapped into the hands of any working slob. Can you imagine the satisfaction felt by the lady who endures doing manicures and pedicures, or the gentleman who drives a truck cross-country delivering food to the masses? 

I give a standing ovation to all the regular types doing a great job every day, and never getting any special recognition.

As for this years Oscars, I do hope Leo wins.

But, of greater interest to me?

Viewing an awards show to recognize the efforts of those serving movie moguls (this includes every aspect of the industry).

So, I am slowly hand-clapping for the personal assistants, pool service people, house-keepers, chefs, stylists, hair and make-up staff, etc., of the glamorous set. 

Those are some acceptance speeches I would pay to hear. -- Pam

The beauty of Netflix and Amazon streaming makes me realize that my judgemnt on television viewing through the years is utterly questionable.

My iPad propped up while I do the things I do every day, I tune into such jewels as the old episodes of Frazier, Seinfeld, Friends and Wings.

Watching them now I realize that some of these episodes are not as entertaining as I once thought.

Let me begin with Frazier.

Overall, it remains entertaining enough. Yeah, binge-watching while preparing meals or just wasting time, the unrelenting Niles obsessing over Daphne (could she really be that oblivious to his leering?) gets tiresome. But, I can overlook all that fawning.

For me, the biggest blunder in character development on this show was the Roz storyline.

The moment they took that tough-as-nails gal down the maternity-lane, they lost one of the fierest female characters in sitcom-land.

This becomes crystal -clear when you compare the early years Roz with the later years. For whatever reason the Frazier honchos diminished Roz Doyle into just another ineffective sitcom prop.

Too bad.

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Summing up my feelings as I try to re-watch Seinfeld is not difficult.

Some shows hold up (mostly the ones primarily featuring Jerry and Elaine), but many are absolutely cringe-worthy.

As an avid fan back in the day, how was I so completely unaware just how obnoxious the George character was? Now, I find him completely unbearable to watch.

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Tuning in Friends causes me to immediately begin my search for something more worthy like any episode of Burn Notice (for the umpteenth time).

Each and every one of the characters seem painfully shallow and the actors simply became more smug with each episode.

Yes, Tom Selleck gave it some credibility. Not enough.

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This all brings me to, Wings.

Remember that little airport in Nantucket with all the zany people?

I just have one thing to say about the worthiness of this sitcom.

Thomas Haden Church. -- Pam

​Dear Journal,

So, Tampa gets to have an ATM filled with Sprinkles Cupcakes?

Well, jolly-good for them.

What do we have to do to get a Sprinkles ATM in Palm Beach County?

I really don't know how I can convey to civic leaders around here that having access to these magical cupcakes is of the utmost importance.

Having gone all the way to the original Beverly Hills location to grab a box full of these delightful confections, I mean business about my cakes in a cup.

BTW -- check our Cupcakes Page here.

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Let us lift a glass to the legendary, Jackie Gleason. Today would have been his 100th birthday.

Mr. Gleason, a lover of the South Florida lifestyle, brought his music, television show and much more to the area.

Until today, I was unaware that the showman also had a vast interest in parapsychology. 

After his death, thanks to his widow, The University of Miami was the reciepient of 1,700 volumes of his books, and various publications on things such as ESP, folklore, UFO's and more. It is known as "The Jackie Gleason Collection."

Cheers...and, away we go!

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It is a bit early, but let's go ahead and think about St. Patrick's Day, by mixing up a time-honored green cocktail.

Grasshopper
1 oz fresh cream
1 oz creme de menthe
1 oz creme de cacao

​Pour ingredients into cocktail shaker with ice.

Shake briskly.

Strain into chilled martini glasses.

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Now, as I sip my green cocktail I will be formulating my plan on how to get a Sprinkles ATM in the Palm Beaches! -- Pam

​Dear Journal,

Blogging and I are no strangers passing in the night. I began blogging in 2007, and since that time  I have zipped around in that pool in one form or another.

My Editor gave the green-light for my newest blog, PBJournal, and I look forward to being my trivial and sarcastic self. I hope you will pop in now and then for the ride (I think I heard my Editor mumble something about it being more of a slippery-slope. He is such a kidder. I think.).

So, let's get to it, shall we?

##

What in Manolo Blahnik Hell is happening in this world when Patricia Field is closing up her NYC clothing store. Come ON, Patty (she won't be reading this blog, so I feel comfortable being familiar) you have been a fashion institution since the '60's.

If you don't know this name, you probably do know a little show entitled, Sex and the City. If you don't know that show, I give up on you.

Anyway,  Patricia is the one responsible for all the great and ridiculous costumes on that show. She has done and still does costumes for other shows, but who cares about them?

Now, here's the thing. Patricia has stated when she closes up shop at the end of this month (February), she is heading to Florida where she claims to have a glamorous apartment.

She did not bother to leak the actual city, but I predict some sleuthing on my part to dig out the deal. No, I don't want to stalk her, I just want to make a judgment call on her judgment in selecting a location. 

Ms. Field has always come across as incredibly funky, so this one is hard to call.

Will it be the Atlantic East Coast side...Fort Lauderdale, Palm Beach (can not see that),  Boca Raton (again, can not see it) or Miami?

On the other hand, she could pop on over to some random city on the Glulf West Coast side. 

​As we are on the Atlantic side (which is the best, but I will debate that with you if you wish), I am calling the East Coast of Florida for her new domicile-doings.

If I see someone at Publix wearing a bright red wig (I mean like Ronald McDonald), and extremely zany clothes, I will know it is her.

Wait, that could be anyone around here.

My sleuthing is going to harder than originally anticipated! --Pam