Hollywood threw a party last night. I didn't attend--even virtually. I have watched the Oscars almost every year since I can remember. I've witnessed several of its high and low points, including the streaker behind David Niven, Cher's outrageous headdress that looked sort of like a blow-up of HIV, Sally Field's neurotic acceptance speech. But the telecast began to lose its charm and grace about ten years ago. I've watched the program with increasing distress since and last night I simply had to say "no." I just didn't care. I cared far more that tenacious Wichita police detectives finally nabbed a credible suspect after 30 years of cat and mouse. Reports over the newswires this morning have indicated that the suspect has confessed. Now Wichita can have their own little circus--ala Gary Ridgway (the Green River killer). Whatever else may happen to him (perhaps he will be murdered in prison to increase the prestige of another inmate, as were Jeff Dahmer and John Geoghan) BTK will not face the death penalty as Kansas had no capital punishment statute when any of his crimes took place.
So, congratulations to the Wichita police for getting their man and to Hillary Swank, actress from Washington State for getting hers: gold and 18 inches high, though he may be.