The Sonia Show

Writer. Mocker. Beer drinker. Old movie watcher. Mother. Goober.

Why do I know that?

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Yeah, so, I’ve mentioned here before that I have a brain packed with useless knowledge.

Actually, maybe “useless” is too strong. This knowledge comes in handy when playing Trivial Pursuit or participating in some pub quiz. Maybe “random” is the right word. I have a brain packed with random knowledge, specifically about movies and television.

I’m pretty good at identify actors and actress with vague descriptions or telling you what that movie is you are trying to describe. I can’t remember anything I learned in college but I can tell you who that guy is that was in that one movie you saw.

So anyway, I was reading Tim Goodman’s column in The Hollywood Reporter” called “The Emmys Rocky Race Relations,” which is about how minority actors are ignored by Emmy voters. Interesting stuff to a TV dork like me.

In the article, he uses Bill Cosby never winning an Emmy for his performance on “The Cosby Show,” a massively popular show from 1984 to 1992, as an example.

When I read that this immediately popped into my head: “Well, that’s because Cosby never submitted himself for Emmy consideration. Everybody knows that. … Don’t they?”

No, Sonia, they don’t. Why do I know that? Why, after all these years, do I know that Cosby never submitted himself for Emmy consideration for the entirety of his sitcoms’ run?

Other random Emmy fact that everyone should know: Jason Alexander never won an Emmy for playing George Constanza on “Seinfeld,” easily one of the funniest characters on television ever.

Remember that when you are watching the Emmys and your favorite show or actor doesn’t win. The Emmys have a history of not giving awards to that guy who was in that one show you really liked.


Author: The Sonia Show

I'm a writer/podcaster/mother/goober in San Francisco who likes to drink beer, shop, laugh and make other people laugh, watch old movies, feed my unhealthy obsession with pop culture, kick breast cancer's ass, go on adventures with my mighty, mighty good man David and my awesome autistic son, Calvin, wear orange and root for the San Francisco Giants, participate in general jackass-ery, talk about TV, eavesdrop on strangers' conversations, make nerdy “Star Wars” and “Simpsons” references, and post personal things about myself on the web for all to read, which makes me some sort of literary exhibitionist.

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