The Once-A-Year Best Year Awards Program

2011 strutted down the red carpet to the massive auditorium. Cameras flashed hungrily at the celebrities heading toward the gold-plated door. There, every year since the beginning of time, was the “The Once-A-Year Best Year Awards Program”.

2011 looked into the big room and could see many of his idols.  Over by the stage, chatting with 1958, was 1941.  “Think of all the fear 1941 whipped up! Pearl Harbor alone was enough to get Hall of Fame status,” thought 2011.  Then there was 2001. The 9/11 attacks — 2011 admired 2001’s ability to scare the crap out of people. But over by the exit was 1929, 1930, 1931, 1932 and 1933.  When it came to economic chaos, well, those guys were the best.  2011 searched his pocket for a notebook. He wanted their autographs. He had tried hard to be like them.

2011 swaggered down to his seat and waited for the program to begin. He knew he’d receive an award for his notable achievements. Flood, famine, fires, economic chaos — he had done it all.  His heart swelled with pride.  He looked at his ticket and found his seat on the front row.

Dick Clark, holding an hourglass, walked out onto the stage and introduced a small toddler.  “Before we honor 2011, I’d like to introduce 2012. He’s our latest brother and I wish him the best of luck.”

2012 crawled out onto the stage and into the spotlight. He grabbed the massive microphone and began to speak with amazing clarity for an small child.

“I’d like to thank 2011 for making me look good.  After the chaos you caused, I can do nothing but be better.  Now some of you, particularly the years of Mayan descent, believe that I’m going to bring the end of the world. That’s balderdash.  What I will bring is hope.  Opportunity.  And joy to anyone who seizes it.  I’m proud to be one of your brothers and I can’t wait to report back this time next year with nothing but good news. 2012 will be the best year ever.”

The Years broke into applause.

2011 slunk down in his seat, mad that he had been shown up by a child.  1979 sat down in the seat next to his and put her arm around him. “Can I buy you a drink? I like your style, btw. Especially the economic malaise part. Even Jimmy Carter was impressed.”

It was time to ring out the old and ring in the new.  A new year had taken the reigns. The auditorium sang Auld Lang Syne, confetti fell from the ceiling and champagne flowed. The celebration of the ages truly began.