I have a tip, that is going to change your life.

It is a game changer, it is revolutionary, you will wonder how you survived without knowing this, this …—what shall we call it from here on? … oh yes—tip.

How much this tip will improve your life is not in question – profoundly, I can

assure you of that much – but what is in question is how will you thank me.

Yes, this is a big decision. If somebody pushes you out of the way from a safe falling to the sidewalk, there is a moral imperative to thank that person adequately. Bending at the waist until your forehead touches the ground and promising that person your first born would be good.

In this case, however, I would deem it just “a good start.”

You see, this tip is so over-the-top wondrous, it would take me 10 hours, talking as fast as Patrick, to explain its benefits to humankind.

OK, that last metaphor was a popular culture reference that needs a little explaining: Remember that commercial in which the kindly older gentleman answers the phone and, just one second later, says to his wife, “It’s Patrick, he just bought life insurance”? Well, just try saying, “Hi Dad, it’s Patrick, I just bought life insurance” in one second. That, right there, that is how fast I would have to speak.

So, back to the matter at hand. How will you, dear readers, thank me for this tip I will bestow upon you?

A parade down Main Street works for me. Cadets marching and 4-H Club members riding horses would be easy to arrange since the schools will be closed that day to honour me.

But there needs to be something more lasting. And, before representatives from the Canadian Mint arrive at my door, I guess I should decide which coin or bill I want my likeness to appear on.

There is no such issue with Canada Post since it only has one stamp in use right now, unless you count those special series that honour lesser humans than I.

A thousand dollar bill would be appropriate, but not too many people have those, and I want to be a deity of the people. So, goodbye to the loon, I choose the one dollar coin. From now on, instead of putting a loonie in the parking meter, you will put in a Darrell.

Hold it … that won’t work. I’m forgetting that rendering my image will, from now on, be considered sacrilege. OK, keep the loon on there and just call it a Darrell. I’m fine with that.

Yes, offering thanks to me will change everything, just as my tip will change everything in your lives.

For instance, six years from now, teachers will have 30 Darrells in their classrooms instead of two Jennifers, one Sarah, two Jasons, etc.

And our merchants and Hallmark will be thrilled that there is another gift-giving holiday in the year. (The people will want to make it weekly, but I’ll decline for the sake of the economy.)

Consider, too, how our language will change. Instead of saying, “Even Steven” it will be “Even Darrell”; “Lucky Duck” will become “Lucky Darrell”; and customers at brothels won’t be called “Johns” anymore.

I don’t have the time to suggest other ways for you to thank me for “The Tip.” Just join a committee in your neighbourhood and you can contribute that way.

It is now time for me to tell you what this tip is: When travelling on a plane with young children, give them a bagel to eat.

Let the gushing begin!