If we describe a college application essay as the best we have ever read, that is saying a lot, because we have read a lot of them. Some of the models we have produced through our own efforts are also quite good, if we do say so ourselves. But our hat is definitely off to the author of the essay reproduced here, attributed to one Hugh Gallagher, who reportedly submitted it in 1990, at the age of 18, to New York University, where he was admitted. The essay won first prize in the humor category of the 1990 Scholastic Writing Awards, appeared in Literary Cavalcade and Harper’s. We would like to thank Susie A. Chang of San Francisco for passing this essay our way, thereby making it possible to share it with you here.
3A. In order for the admissions staff of our college to get to know you, we ask that you answer the following question: Are there any significant experiences you have had, or accomplishments you have realized, that have helped to define you as a person?
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently.
Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.
I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed and I cook 30-Minute Brownies in 20 minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love and an outlaw in Peru.
Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cellos, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries.
When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear.
I don’t perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been Caller Number Nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal force demonstration. I bat .400.
My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy.
I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations with the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago, I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four-course meals using only a Mouli and a toaster oven.
I breed prize-winning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka and spelling bees at the Kremlin.
I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery and I have spoken with Elvis.
But I have not yet gone to college.
Need we say more? Chancellor, sign this young man up for a B.S.!
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