It's truly the best award I've ever gotten, and I've gotten hundreds. It means so much since it comes from the people. Ha! That's funny. When my PR people told me to say that I was like, "What, like all the other awards are given out by raccoons?" But they told me not to say that.
First I'd like to offer props to my mom. I wouldn't be where I am if she hadn't worked so hard at dead-end jobs that barely paid enough to keep us in low-income housing. Even though she worked her fingers to the bone scrubbing toilets and we were just like a dollar away from being homeless, she still bought me a piano, drums, a guitar, and a trumpet when I said, "Hey, mom, buy me a piano, drums, a guitar, and a trumpet." I still don't know how she could simultaneously work and home-school me, but that's up to my PR people to figure out.
Next I'd like to thank my dad for encouraging me to follow my dream. That's what he did, and I think that's where I got my strength. Even though he comes from four generations of bankers he said to his parents, "No, I want to be a stockbroker instead!" That's why he's my idol. It's tough to blaze your own trail when your parents have to call, like, friends of friends to find you a job. That's the kind of courage I wrote about in my song, "On The Fence (I'm Like That Sparrow-Ow-Ow)."
Next I'd like to thank my manager, Mike Borgata, who somehow saw genius in this crazy little kid and probably would have signed me even if my dad hadn't given him that briefcase full of cash.
I always knew I wanted to sing. I remember going out on modeling jobs where I met all these incredibly talented people working so hard, and I remember I wanted to do something too. They all said, "You're pretty, so nobody cares if you're useless," but I made up my mind. Right then I decided that I'd do something more than just hang out with my friends and ride my horses Rainbow and Chauncey.
I can't forget to thank God for this. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't had eighteen gold records six months after I first opened my mouth. My mom was a great teacher, but I'm still pretty sure I wouldn't have made a good accountant even if I'd learned how to add. I remember when she covered the career counseling part of my home schooling by having me read a Richard Scarry book. All the pigs were construction workers and the bunny rabbits were housewives and I thought, I'm not a pig or a bunny rabbit. So I'd like to accept this award on behalf of everybody out there who isn't a pig or a bunny rabbit.
To all the other kids who want to do this, I say go for it! It isn't easy: you've got to write and write and write before Emmy-winning songwriters can go through your journals and make a song out of them while totally ignoring all your drawings of Jake Gyllenhaal. Maybe you won't be quite as lucky as me -- it might take like a year before you pick up an award in front of a billion people -- but keep at it! It's definitely worth all the work.
And to all the haters out there who think I haven't worked for this, you're wrong. I spent all of last summer working as a lifeguard. I was only, like, twelve, but I remember feeling totally responsible for, like, human life! For nearly three months I worked for my dad's best friend, just making sure nothing bad happened around his pool. Luckily he didn't have a family and he didn't like to swim, so mostly I just sat there in a swimsuit while he looked at me, but that was still the hardest ten thousand dollars I ever made. I still have it in a drawer to remind me where I came from.
Whoops, gotta wrap it up -- there's the music. Did I write that? No? Oh. Well, thanks so much. This award means everything to me, coming from the -- HA! Peace. Out!
