I am a lazy man. Yet, I also desire the riches and recognition that accrue to those of accomplishment.

So, I have got off my lazy duff for one night (OK, for about an hour during commercials while watching Restaurant Makeover) and scratched out a plan for success in seven easy steps.

No. 1: I want a Grammy. They handed out the music awards on Wednesday and I've spotted my category - Notes. That's right, they hand out a gold gramophone for writing liner notes. Forget the hardship of writing a hit song about heartbreak. That's hard work. Heck, how many words can there be on the back of an itty-bitty compact disc?

No. 2: I want an Oscar. Despite my success at the Grammys, writing a screenplay will take too many words. Actors are at the beck and call of directors who are at the mercy of producers. Fuhgeddaboudit. While best-supporting actor is tempting, I think documentary short is the category for me. Just turn on a camera somewhere and hope for the best.

No. 3: I want a medal at the Winter Olympics. Sports is a lot of hard work and a lazy man doesn't like to sweat. Curling is tempting (until they started drug testing), but just thinking of all that sweeping tuckers me out. I think four-man bobsled is the place for me. Run a few steps, then duck down. Just like starting a car by yourself in Winnipeg in winter. Once we start going downhill in the bobsled, all I've got to do is make like I'm sleeping. I've had plenty of practice. That's exactly what I do when I'm a passenger in a car and we come to the toll booth at the ferry terminal.

No. 4: I want a medal at the Summer Olympics. I'll be a coxswain in the men's eights. No backbreaking rowing. Just sit in the stern while yelling, "Stroke! Stroke!"

No. 5: I want a Nobel prize. Physics, medicine, and chemistry require too much book-learning and I don't think the Literature category includes liner notes. Economics is tempting, since it's all made up and no one understands any of it. But I think I'll go for the peace prize. If they gave one of those to Henry Kissinger, they'll give it to anyone.

No. 6: I want my name engraved on the Stanley Cup. Once upon a time, you had to be able to skate to be immortalized on hockey's Holy Grail. No longer. The list gets more bloated every season, with as many people in the front office honoured as those on the ice. The Tampa Bay Lightning listed 22 non-players as cup winners the last time the trophy was awarded. Among them was Nigel Kirwan. Who's he? Video coach. That's the job for me.

So, there you have it. A Nobel Prize, two Olympic gold medals and a mantel full of awards. I think that qualifies me for:

No. 7: A seat at the federal cabinet table. The danger of being rejected by the voters is not for me. Just thinking about going door to door makes we want to take a rest. Instead, the prime minister can appoint me to the senate ($119,100 per annum) and then stick me in cabinet. I'll take ... minister for the Vancouver-Whistler Olympics. Just think of the perks. Free tickets and free booze. They just gave the job to David Emerson, a self-described "small-c Liberal." I can spell better than he does and I'm no threat to betray my party by crossing the floor. Sounds too much like work. I just hope my chair at the cabinet table can be replaced with a La-Z-Boy.

After that, I'll write my memoirs.

Victoria writer Tom Hawthorn fell back exhausted after emailing this to The Tyee.