Nowadays, someone somewhere is dreaming up some reason to give someone else an award. Every industry and profession on the face of the planet has awards, from Grammys for records to EFFIES for advertising, from Tonys for theatre to Pulitzers for publishing.
People get awards for growing 1,000-pound pumpkins, eating 50 hot dogs in five minutes and dancing for days on end. They’re presented with medals and money, pins and plaques, and all sorts of gifts, glass bowls to silver frames. Magazines are big on awards, from GQs Man of the Year to Glamour’s Women of the Year, from Playboy’s Playmate of the Year to Time’s Person of the Year.
Awards are presented at fundraising dinners, in sports arenas and concert halls…. from Broadway to Beverly Hills. Winners are photographed, interviewed and applauded; flattered, toasted and lauded. If only we could remember their names two days later.
Awards don’t always reflect brains, talent, generosity or niceness. They certainly don’t ensure success. But if anyone out there is thinking of giving me an award, I’ll be thrilled to death.
* Mary-Louis Parker