The Oscar acceptance speech you'll never hear

The Orange County Register (MCT) - I would like to thank the academy.

I have always wanted to say that. I practiced saying that in front of the mirror since I was 6 years old. I continued saying it in front of the mirror until I was 18. That may explain why I never had a date in high school.

Now, my dream has come true, and I finally understand what it really means to thank the academy.

I want to thank the academy for recognizing my extraordinary talent. Until now, only my mother recognized my talent. I was starting to think that the rest of you were stupid.

But now I see that you wanted me to gain some maturity so that I understood the meaning of a night like this. You wanted me to respect the award. You wanted me to experience the pain and rejection inherent in our profession so that I would fully appreciate what has just happened.

And, as I stand before you tonight on the eve of my 21st birthday, I forgive you for making me wait so long.

And I would like to send out a special message to my 10th grade drama teacher, Mr. Johnson, who sent me to the guidance counselor to find a profession that I was better suited to than acting.

Screw you, Mr. Johnson.

I certainly want to thank my first agent, Shifty Lazar, who dumped me after six months.

I hope it hurts, Shifty.

But a night like this is not about revenge. OK, it is a little about revenge, but now that I am an Oscar winner, I must put aside petty thoughts of revenge, and behave like an Oscar winner.

And I am indeed an Oscar winner. It is a title that will follow me the rest of my life, and even beyond this puny existence. When journalists write about me, and they will, they will refer to me always as an Oscar winner. It is a title not unlike "King" or "His Eminence."

If I should die in a mass tragedy, the headlines will read: "Oscar winner (my name) and 200 others die in mass tragedy."

Unless, of course, Meryl Streep is in the same tragedy, and then she will trump me, and that really ticks me off.

I would like to thank my fellow cast members on this movie, but I'm having a hard time forming the words.

The only contribution my co-stars made to my triumph tonight is that they made me look good by being so incompetent. I can't believe these people make more money than me.

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Even the director makes more than me. Can you believe that? This guy, who obviously was not good-looking enough to be an actor so he had to resort to directing, tells me where to stand and he collects a bigger check. Where is the justice in life?

But this night is about me. I did this by myself, which I why I'm not going to be a hypocrite and thank a bunch of other people.

And, speaking of money, my asking price just went up big time, and I am truly thankful for that. After all, it's all about the money.

I know these are tough economic times, and most actors are in a constant state of recession, but the biggest movie stars never feel the pain. I am now one of them, and from this vantage point, I can see how insignificant the troubles of the little people are to those of us on the mountaintop.

Otherwise, why would we continue to demand obscene salaries to play make-believe?

I'm pretty sure that an Oscar is the answer to all my problems. I have believed that since the first time I walked on a stage in junior high and played a tree in a school production of "Our Town." I believed that in acting class, and I believed that when I had to clear Jack Nicholson's plates at my demeaning day job in that Beverly Hills restaurant.

I believed it then, and I believe it now.

And, as I stand here at the podium tonight and ignore the red warning light to get off the stage, I understand that I was right.

An Oscar means that I am more important than other actors. It means that I can fly on private jets, and never again have to sit in coach. It means that I can demand that my trailer be stocked with nothing but blue M&Ms. It means that I will finally be chased down the street by paparazzi, until I decide that I no longer need the publicity and start whining about the "loss of privacy."

So, thank you again academy members for confirming what I have always known _ that I am a special human being. Just like my mother said.

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Barry Koltnow: bkoltnow@ocregister.com

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© 2009, The Orange County Register (Santa Ana, Calif.).