Awards season

As the best and brightest prepare to thank God and their own parents, one award-hopeful creates his own list

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At the start of a new year, we wish happiness, in a general way, to folks known to us. And yet this time of year brings extra happiness in the form of awards and honours to a lucky few who have excelled in their chosen fields of endeavour. Having written over a hundred pieces for this magazine, I can’t wait to pore over the Australia Day honours list this year to see if I have something extra to celebrate about.

In the meantime, I’ve decided to make up my own list.

The Edward and Simpson Award goes jointly to Prince (we’re still calling him that, right?) Harry and Meghan Markle for snapping their links to the royal family, much like their ancestor Edward VIII who gave up the English throne for his love, the American divorcee Wallis Simpson, early in the last century. Unlike his great granduncle Edward, Harry has not lost a bejewelled crown, just a few copper-coloured strands on his own crown. To those who are concerned about their claim to be financially independent, mark(le) my words: the former Suits star will soon launch her own line of lingerie like many models before her. The only issue is, deciding on the brand name – Duchess or Sussex.

The Aloha Award for promoting tourism goes to ScoMo, who rushed back home from Hawaii with just a floral shirt on his back. He cut short his Honolulu holiday by a day, following a flood of criticism for being away from a country on fire. One columnist even suggested that no politician should ever go on overseas holidays. Do these scribes expect a PM to fly a water bomber or hold a hose to douse the flames? What reward did former PM Tony Abbot, a seasoned fire fighter, get? Fired mid-term! In fairness to Mr. Morrison, an equal number of correspondents came to his rescue.

Donald Trump, the ‘tweets titan’ whose bombshell announcements rock the peace on earth, gets the Nobel Peace Prize for his claim that his use of a drone to do away with a high-ranking general on the other side of the globe, was to stop a war breaking out. Much to his chagrin, the award’s joint winner is one Ayatollah, whose men managed to fire several missiles at Baghdad’s green zone without harming any American soldier – apparently not to provoke the US to start a war. (This joint peace prize has its precedent given to Israeli PM Rabin and his Arab foe Arafat decades ago.)

Sydney Mayor Clover Moore is a sure-fire nominee for the Coveted Coat Hanger gong for stoutly defending the decision to go ahead with the New Year fireworks at Sydney Harbour, totally ignoring an opposing campaign by half a million signatories even as her state Never Saw Wildfire like that. She said the three million-dollar shower of sparkle would boost the local economy, help small businesses and increase employment. Reminds me of an ancient Roman emperor named Nero…

The Pontiff of Patience prize goes to Pope Francis. Recently when an ardent devotee grabbed his hand to get a blessing, he slapped her wrist and turned swiftly away with a grimace for the whole flock to see. A day later, by way of penance, he shook every hand stretched towards him at another mass meeting.

Who else deserves the Superman Award other than Vladimir Putin, who has changed the image of a sick Soviet to a robust Russia. Anyone doubting the suitability of this muscular Muscovite needs to see videos of his riding shirtless on horseback or his flipping a combatant like a feather in a judo demo.

Unlike ScoMo who just scraped in, you’d think our own NaMo, who won hands down in the May election, should have his fingers on the pulse of the economy. Instead, by introducing certain legislations, he has stirred the pot – thanks to an old habit with teapots – to set off nation-wide protests, thus earning the Hornet’s Nest award.

As for me, a little bird has just advised that I should perhaps wait for next year’s announcements…