May 2, 2009

What An Honour

Carnegie Hall's Medal of Excellence.

Now, doesn't that sound important? Doesn't that sound like something that might be a rather large plum on your resume of both professional achievements and private aren't-I-fabulous? moments? I can imagine the call. Well, actually I can't, but I'll pretend.

"Ms. Amazing, you have been chosen by our esteemed board to receive the coveted, famous Medal of Excellence in recognition for your brilliant work in your Very Important Field, for your generous contributions to our community in your never-ending quest to make the world a better place for your fellow man."

Except, read this. It's a bunch of hooey. They aren't even giving the award this year, because apparently, to win it, you are expected to shake down all your associates and friends to raise money. They're supposed to buy tickets and tables for thousands of dollars - you are 'nominated' to win if you have enough cash.

And, this year, nobody has any money. Nobody has a long, long list of targets they can call and lean on for donations. Survival of the flushest has been flushed. What a bunch of nonsense. Where I come from, the word that describes this kind of practice starts with 'circle' and ends with 'jerk'.

I only clicked on the link because it's about awards and banquets. I'm going to one tonight. The Ontario Newspaper Awards are having their annual shindig in Kitchener. I'm nominated for Columnist of the Year. I doubt I'll win, but with the industry approaching tatters you never now if you're at the last one of these.

We don't have to provide donations from our friends. Good thing. We're only required to show up scrubbed up and using our party manners, for the first half hour anyway. Where there's a bar and journalists, there is little point in requesting much else. No, I didn't buy a snazzy new dress. Nobody cares, unless you're the chick dancing on the table. There's always one. No, never been me.

But if I catch wind that this in indeed the last hoe down, you never know. I said 'hoe' down, so hush.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Best of luck. I really want you to win Columnist of the Year! I love your column, it is the only one out of many that I make a point to make an appointment to read!

Hope you have a smashing good time!


May 02, 2009 6:24 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

Well, t'weren't to be. But thank you for your kind wishes.

May 03, 2009 1:24 PM  
Blogger DJW said...

Awww too bad.

But you're tops with all of us in Lorrainia, if that makes ya feel better.

May 03, 2009 10:59 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Lorrainia. Sounds like a small foreign country.


May 04, 2009 9:37 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Lorraine. Never kissed enough asses to win. You are fabulous and outspoken, that's what makes you GOOD!!! It can be a killer though. Truth hurts. Not sure on how they pick a winner, straws? You are a winner in our books and no, not that kind of winner, the good kind. You know how the Oscars work? Same deal. Kiss and sniff enough, and within years you to can play on their street.


May 04, 2009 12:21 PM  
Blogger Chris Brown (not the felon) said...

Good news. I just discovered my father in law reads and adores your column(s). We are all cheering for you tonight but should you not win (and here's the good news bit) I'm pretty sure he would be happy, with no obligation, to invite you over for Happy Hour in their pub.

In the basement. It's a beaut, you know and someone dressed in their party best on party behaviour would be a welcome addition. So if the tears are flowing tonight as you shuffle back to your limo, think about saying "Over to Dr. Franks Pub, Geeves" instead of "Home, James." (Mind you if you're going to change drivers just because you're not going home, you must have more money than I was lead to believe.)

We will keep our eyes, finger, and toes crossed.


May 04, 2009 4:28 PM  
Blogger Chris Brown (not the felon) said...

Ooops. That's "fingers" up there. Pretty hard to cross one finger. If I was Chris Angel... maybe. Alas, I am not.

May 04, 2009 4:30 PM  

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