Thank you Time Magazine.
The following was origionally published in the Dec. 19 edition of the Statesboro Herald.
(Note: This is the acceptance speech I would have given had I been asked after Time Magazine told me that "you" are the Person of the Year.)
Thank you all. I can't believe this is happening to me.
To be named Time magazine's "Person of the Year" comes as such a shock. You know, you go through life and you try to do good things and you wonder if anyone is noticing, but you never expect to win such an award.
There are so many people I need to thank. Yes Dear, of course, for always standing beside me, reassuring me that one of these years, Time would see how wonderful I am. (Granted, for the 27th consecutive year, I failed to capture the prize that has become my great whale — People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive." One of these days, oh yes, it will be mine. George Clooney can't live forever.)
Also, I'd like to thank my parental units for all they've done for me. They always told me I could be anything I wanted to be, but I'm sure they found it strange that at the age of five I set my goal on being Time's "Person of the Year."
Most kids want to be a fireman or an astronaut, but not me. I wanted the recognition that comes with a weekly periodical naming me their most important human on the earth, and now I've got that.
I can now stand beside other such men as Adolf Hiter and Joseph Stalin, though I'd rather not focus on the fact that they, too, have been honored by Time.
Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't thank Morris Multimedia for taking a chance on a young reporter fresh out of college. I hope I've been able to prove my worth now that I've earned such an honor.
Obviously I can expect a big, fat pay raise after bringing such prestige and honor to the Statesboro Herald. It's not like every newspaper in the country has Time's "Person of the Year" on their staff.
(Note to self: Remember to update your resume to include this honor. It can go next to your ABC News Person of the Year in 2004 for being a blogger.)
Most importantly, however, is the committee of people who got together and decided to honor me. I don't know who these people are and the only thing I can say for certain about them is that they are exceedingly brilliant.
It takes a genius to see my genius, and so, to the committee, I thank you for this honor.
I have to admit, however, that I'm kind of hurt that no one has called to congratulate me. Not my family, not my friends. Even at work, no one has said anything to me about this.
Of course, there's always the chance that everyone is playing dumb in preparation of a special "Luke Martin Appreciation Day" in which there's a parade in my honor and I'm given the key to the city. (Come on Mayor Bill Hatcher, you know you've been looking for an excuse to honor me.)
(Note to organizers: Thursday afternoons are usually good for me, but please check with my boss before throwing a massive county-wide celebration for me. I'd hate to be out on assignment and miss the honoring of me.)
But by winning this, I feel somewhat empty inside. All my life has been spent working towards achieving this goal and now that I've won it, what now? I'm not even 28 and I've achieved everything I set out to accomplish in life.
Sure, I could actually set new goals and challenges to achieve, but that would only be setting myself up for disappointment. I think it's best to rest on my laurels.
Perhaps I could fly around the country on the speaking circuit, pulling down a cool $25,000 to $50,000 for an hour-long speech about whatever it is that I know about. But then, I hate to travel, so that may not be the best career choice for me.
I guess I could write a book about what it takes to be a "Person of the Year," but that might take away from my duties here at the Herald, and I would think my boss wouldn't be pleased with that idea.
So I'll probably just keep doing what I'm doing, trying not to get fired and writing columns on such in irregular basis that there's no rhyme or reason to it.
That did, after all, earn me "Person of the Year."
(Note: This is the acceptance speech I would have given had I been asked after Time Magazine told me that "you" are the Person of the Year.)
Thank you all. I can't believe this is happening to me.
To be named Time magazine's "Person of the Year" comes as such a shock. You know, you go through life and you try to do good things and you wonder if anyone is noticing, but you never expect to win such an award.
There are so many people I need to thank. Yes Dear, of course, for always standing beside me, reassuring me that one of these years, Time would see how wonderful I am. (Granted, for the 27th consecutive year, I failed to capture the prize that has become my great whale — People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive." One of these days, oh yes, it will be mine. George Clooney can't live forever.)
Also, I'd like to thank my parental units for all they've done for me. They always told me I could be anything I wanted to be, but I'm sure they found it strange that at the age of five I set my goal on being Time's "Person of the Year."
Most kids want to be a fireman or an astronaut, but not me. I wanted the recognition that comes with a weekly periodical naming me their most important human on the earth, and now I've got that.
I can now stand beside other such men as Adolf Hiter and Joseph Stalin, though I'd rather not focus on the fact that they, too, have been honored by Time.
Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't thank Morris Multimedia for taking a chance on a young reporter fresh out of college. I hope I've been able to prove my worth now that I've earned such an honor.
Obviously I can expect a big, fat pay raise after bringing such prestige and honor to the Statesboro Herald. It's not like every newspaper in the country has Time's "Person of the Year" on their staff.
(Note to self: Remember to update your resume to include this honor. It can go next to your ABC News Person of the Year in 2004 for being a blogger.)
Most importantly, however, is the committee of people who got together and decided to honor me. I don't know who these people are and the only thing I can say for certain about them is that they are exceedingly brilliant.
It takes a genius to see my genius, and so, to the committee, I thank you for this honor.
I have to admit, however, that I'm kind of hurt that no one has called to congratulate me. Not my family, not my friends. Even at work, no one has said anything to me about this.
Of course, there's always the chance that everyone is playing dumb in preparation of a special "Luke Martin Appreciation Day" in which there's a parade in my honor and I'm given the key to the city. (Come on Mayor Bill Hatcher, you know you've been looking for an excuse to honor me.)
(Note to organizers: Thursday afternoons are usually good for me, but please check with my boss before throwing a massive county-wide celebration for me. I'd hate to be out on assignment and miss the honoring of me.)
But by winning this, I feel somewhat empty inside. All my life has been spent working towards achieving this goal and now that I've won it, what now? I'm not even 28 and I've achieved everything I set out to accomplish in life.
Sure, I could actually set new goals and challenges to achieve, but that would only be setting myself up for disappointment. I think it's best to rest on my laurels.
Perhaps I could fly around the country on the speaking circuit, pulling down a cool $25,000 to $50,000 for an hour-long speech about whatever it is that I know about. But then, I hate to travel, so that may not be the best career choice for me.
I guess I could write a book about what it takes to be a "Person of the Year," but that might take away from my duties here at the Herald, and I would think my boss wouldn't be pleased with that idea.
So I'll probably just keep doing what I'm doing, trying not to get fired and writing columns on such in irregular basis that there's no rhyme or reason to it.
That did, after all, earn me "Person of the Year."
posted by Luke at 11:38 PM
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