too many to count. We've barely made it to the 1980's, dear reader, and there remains so much more to tell — Tiananmen Square, Oklahama City, Bosnia — but, since Time Magazine is only paying me for this many words, I'm afraid I must stop here.

When you've dedicated as much of your life to journalism as I have, there are bound to be countless anecdotes and stories, many of which may never get their telling. There are simply too many and, as I dictate this, I am far too drunk. Hopefully some day I will get the opportunity to tell you about the time I punched the Ukrainian Ambassador in the stomach; or the time I got bombed on cheap Schlossgold with the Minister of Agriculture for the Czech Republic and we went out cow-tipping. I suppose I could even get into William "What's the frequency, Kenneth" Tager, who beat me up in 1986. Tager was convinced the media had him under surveillance and were beaming messages directly into his brain. We had been, of course — but after he beat me up we stopped.

As I stand here talking to the mirror in my study, I can see the reflection of the shelf behind me. I am comforted by the numerous Emmys and Peabody Awards that look back at me, and am reminded that I am, and always have been, the pinnacle of newscasting in America today. This isn't even taking into account the boxes of awards I have in my garage from lesser organizations. In short, I am spectacular. Thank you for joining me for a brief glimpse back at the history I helped shape, and the memories I helped make.

From my study, I'm Dan Rather. Thank you and goodnight.