I love the Oscars; I’ve watched them faithfully since I was a wee girl. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of standing at the podium and saying my own special thank yous. Never mind that I have no discernable acting skills whatsoever. Heck, I break into a sweat at the thought of speaking publicly. Seriously, sometimes I freeze up when leaving answering machine messages. But it’s the grandness of the occasion that has always enthralled me.
Which is why, each year, I feel a little deflated that so many people blow their chance at greatness. There aren’t many moments in life when you can make an indelible impression. And I’m not talking about the time you tripped in the lunchroom and spilled your sloppy joe onto Tiffany, the head cheerleader, and everyone laughed and laughed and laughed. I’m talking about the winners’ acceptance speeches.
Listen, winners, for the love of all that is good and right, please, do not thank your lawyer. Do not thank your stylist. Do not thank your accountant. Do not pull out a wrinkled, sweaty list of everyone you’ve ever met and read it aloud. We don’t care. Write a list, keep it in your pocket and send everyone on it a gift basket on Monday.
Instead, when you get handed the shiny, naked, golden man, speak from the heart. Make it count. Make it interesting. Make it smart. Make it something we’ll remember the next day, if not years from now. This is your moment. And, if at all possible, kiss Halle Berry. I mean, what the hell, it is your moment.