Here's Lookin at You, Oscar

For many years, we used to gather with my brother's family to watch the Oscars in one of our houses or another. We would have a delicious potluck meal, everyone contributing something amazing to share; we would fill out our predicted ballots and throw a few bucks into a pool, and since it was always so late on Sunday night when it ended, we'd take the next day off. 

One year it occurred to us that since we were taking off, we might as well take off for somewhere fun, and a tradition was born. In the decade-plus since that realization, we have spent long weekends in many amazing waterfront homes in places like Hague, VA, Scotland, MD, Dewey Beach, DE, and this year, Rock Hall, a tiny Eastern Shore port on the Chesapeake Bay.

In our part of the world, the weather in March is unpredictable, and so those weekends have been a mixed bag of days when we could hunt barefoot for sharks' teeth and fossils to times when we needed our warmest gear as protection against a howling Nor'easter. Through it all, we've explored tiny towns, nature preserves, parks, and history museums, enjoyed local restaurants, patronized artists and artisans in their galleries, fishermen on the wharf, farmers' markets, and country stores. 

In these homes away from home, we've cooked and laughed and played games. We've seen over 200 awards handed out and heard countless speeches. We witnessed Faye Dunaway accidentally announce LaLa Land as best picture and Will Smith slap Chris Rock. One year, my nephews each made their own short film over the weekend, which they premiered before the ceremony began. (Of course, those were the real best pictures that night.)

Other family members have traveled from Minnesota, Florida, and Colorado to be part of the fun, and one nephew has joined virtually from Western Massachusetts and another from Iceland. 

And here we are again. Cue the orchestra, and... Action!