THE BIG FOOT AWARD

I am now the recipient of The Island Grove Press Big Foot Award for not being so abominable. Although I’d like to set the bar a smidgen higher, I officially accept this Canadian award bestowed upon me. Unlike other awards that grow exponentially and perhaps download malicious spyware and/or adware onto unsuspecting computers, this award, The Big Foot Award, is firmly planted at one’s doorstep. It can only be granted by none other than Ivan Prokopchuk, author of Ontario’s number one best selling novel “Light Over Newmarket” and soul creator/editor of The Island Grove Press.

This prestigious award does not involve any money and there are no strings attached. You will not find a burning bag of shit on your front porch—no sirree—this is an authentic writing award. Therefore, I would like to say that any recognition for my efforts is better than no recognition at all. It’s no different then if Joey Harrington, the former quarterback of the Detroit Lions and Miami Dolphins were to be awarded MVP of the CFL. I’m sure he’d graciously accept his trophy, all the while keeping his eye on returning to the NFL.

I would like to personally thank Ivan Prokopchuk for making me the first recipient of this soon-to-be-coveted award. I. P. freely (Bart Simpson eat your heart out) offers sound advice on the harsh realities of becoming a full-fledged writer. Here’s what he had to say about my recent series of chauffeur stories:

I can't get over the intelligence of you guys. Like JR half-anticipating what I was composing this morning, addled as I am with the sunriser.

I was going to write about the weirdest assignment I ever got from the TORONTO SUN, a review of a transvestite comedy club called SHE-RADE. This was some years back, long before the political correctness of today. A portion of my story:

High-heeled MC to a front-row patron:

"And what do you do for a living, sir?"

"I drive a limo.

"You drive a homo?"

"No, no. I drive a limo."

"No way. You drive a homo. I can tell. Something's eating away at you."

And so it went.

Moral of story: Never sit in the front row of a gay comedy club.

...Better still, don't go at all if you were once a straight limo driver like JR.

Ah well. Ladies certainly enjoy reading your limo stories, JR.

Ivan (4/07/2007 7:35 AM)

His encouraging words have led me to my next short story project titled: “The Narrative Compendium of an American Chauffeur,” where the first person narrator shares his smorgasbord of experiences as a limousine driver. So let me use this award as a stepping stone to get back to my former self, to get back into one of those small literary journals that have so often rejected my work. Hey, Joey Harrington is still a quarterback, and I am still a writer, and a horse is a horse of course, unless, that is: his head is severed and used for a scene in “The Godfather.”