If I watch award shows, it's in a desultory way, often reading a book or mag at the same time. That's how I tried to watch the Grammys last night . . . but there were some moments that pulled me away from multitasking and into full attention. Kanye's tribute to his Mama (talk about a waste, dying over plastic surgery). Beyonce and Tina (69 yrs old, o my). Herbie Hancock winning the "best album" award, first time for a jazz album since 1964, and then Amy Winehouse. Five awards. Yes, yes, yes. Defiant and sweet. Both. She looked so young. Alicia never sang or looked more beautiful. And there was a hilariously game moment when Kid Rock (I've never liked him better) sang the Louis Prima part (channelling Prima) in a duet with Keely Smith (b. 1932--hero of Native Americans because she came out as Cherokee decades before it was fashionable to "identify"). And Chaka Khan (amazing Chaka) moved so far beyond the tripe of our stupid celebrity-gazing finger-wagging moment (the alternating prurience of the paparazzi and the sanctimony when celebrities falter and fall) to speak from the heart, with real empathy toward Amy Winehouse, singing at 4 am in a cabaret in London after being denied a Visa by the U.S. emigration geniuses who are protecting us, no doubt, from terrorism. After admitting her own problems being in the spotlight during her career, Chaka said of Amy: ?She?s walking her walk. We all have a walk in life, we have hard anddifficult times and going through that chaos often leads to clarity. We have to have that room and that space, that privacytime, to be able to walk your walk, make your mistakes and come out ofit. It will make you stronger.? Sometimes, yes.