Last night was a wipeout for me. I'd expected to be done with some things and then settle into the awards broadcast, but even before it started we had other things come up that needed to be attended to, so I got to it late.
I already knew that some of the awards I would have cared about had already taken place. Was it Pluto TV? I don't even know what that is. A cable channel? Something on a Firestick? Online? Free? Do you have to subscribe? I'm really tired of having to figure that out about so many things I'd watch if it weren't for our now-abominably-fragmented media world. And lifetime achievement awards, of all things, can't even be on the main program? What utter bullshit. So already I'm pissed at the damned Tonys.
Anyhoo, in the midst of tending to various things, I saw a couple of minutes here and there, nothing too thrilling. I briefly checked here a couple of times and it looked like almost no one was watching it live, or was here posting about it, so I went about my business. Suddenly I thought I heard our cat, Mikey, meow -- like, from some great distance, or from behind a closed door. So I go looking to make sure of where he is and that he's all right. About FORTY MINUTES later, having looked in what I thought was every nook and cranny of the house, I shine a flashlight into a very hard to see corner of my bedroom where things are kind of piled up, and there's his fat ASS (it's not really fat), sound asleep. It wasn't his meow I'd heard after all. If it had been, he's very vocal and he would have kept yelling for us. So some sound, somewhere, maybe even on the damned TV, had sounded like his meow to me, setting off a wild goose chase.
So it was just a crazy distracted evening, and I just wasn't much in the mood for this particular Tony awards show anyway.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
