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I am polishing my tuxedo.
Jennifer's backless, strapless gown is out of pawn.
We're getting ready for the Awards Awards. Pardon my redundancy, as W.C. Fields would say.
We have awards for everything else, so why not awards for awards?
There are two or three ceremonies every month, for movies, songs, zookeepers, and shoe clerks.
The Awards Awards pools all of them. It makes perfect sense.
Sooner or later each and every one of us will be handed a trophy.
As an educator I made an important discovery. Give everyone an "A," and everyone goes home happy.
Best Jimmy Stewart Impersonator, Best Achievement in Achievement, Best Achievement in Underachievement, Best Methodist Named Carl.
Best Acceptance Speech. Best Worst Acceptance Speech.
Best Musical. Best Musical Music.
Awarding awards goes back 40,000 years. We know that a Neanderthal named "Buzz" picked up a trophy for Best Grunting Around the Females.
From there it spread to Greece, and the first Olympiad.
I have heard rumors about an awards channel, like Turner Classic Movies. Twenty-four hours a day. Non-stop ceremonies, new ones, old ones.
Who wouldn't want to see Sacheen Littlefeather accept on behalf of Marlon Brando again? And maybe catch up on what she is doing these days?
She turned 70 last November.
Upcoming: Best Sports Nicknames.
I'm rooting for Thomas "The Angry Salad" Romaine, a St. Louis middleweight.
Jennifer is rooting for Bill "Old Fish 'n' Chips" Flounderman, a utility infielder in the Appalachian League.
Best Ethical Politician was canceled because there are none.
Best Sideline Reporters? Same thing.
Upcoming in June, appropriately: Best Best Man.
Then we can look forward to Best Trophy.
I like the Stanley Cup. It has the names of the winning teams, their coaches, players, and dentists engraved on it.
Jennifer thinks that Floyd of Rosedale is tops. That's the trophy they give to the winner of the Iowa-Minnesota football game every year.
The Hawkeyes beat the Golden Gophers last year, 14-7.
Best License Plate is right around the corner. The Automobile License Plate Collectors Association gives out the annual award.
Colorado won in 1975.
Michigan won in 2013 with its tasteful montage of the Mackinac Bridge, a Woodward Avenue hot dog, and lyrics of "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald."
"Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings, in the rooms of her ice-water mansions."
The album version of the song is 6:32, but I always think it takes a week.
It's up for Best Disaster Song, and I think it has a real shot. Its stiffest competition might be that catchy tune about the Kansas City Hyatt Regency walkway collapse.
"Krakatoa, East of Java" is up for Best Worst Movie Title, in part, I think, because Krakatoa is west of Java.
"Living Without Intestines" certainly has a chance in that category.
Speaking of categories, Best Category category nominations have just been announced.
There will be Best Performance by a Single Mother with Three or More Kids in a Grocery Store, Each of Whom Had Sugary Cereals for Breakfast.
And Best Version of "Lady of Spain" by Someone Who Sounds Exactly Like James Earl Jones.
Look who's talking? I have a trophy. It's on a shelf right behind me. It says "Best Band Name Namer."
I won for Radioactive Dachshund.
Craig Marshall Smith is an artist, educator and Highlands Ranch resident. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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