Sequins in My Eyes

When I was a little girl, I wanted to twirl fire batons.

We lived directly across the street from the local high school and I would stare, transfixed, each Friday night as the buxom high school babes in their skin-tight sequins would AquaNet the hell out their 60’s up-dos, then take a match to the ends of their batons.

To a budding queen in a Dallas suburb, THIS was the very definition of glamour.

Fast forward (mumbles) years. My slightly filled out frame, splayed on the sofa with the big screen TV, belly just flat enough to balance a cocktail on. My annual ritual begins. The Miss America Pageant.

And there, in living color, was a contestant who actually had wanted to twirl fire batons for her talent, but the organizers wouldn’t let her for safety reasons! Unfortunately, she was eliminated, clutching three (plain ol') batons to her chest and trying to keep from crying.

Then the host let her “twirl to commercial.” So, so wrong. But she twirled her little heart out for the three-second fade to the plug for some hygiene product.

Now, I’m sure most of you stopped watching this dreck years ago. That’s probably why the ratings have plummeted and the show is now on basic cable. That and the complete and utter cultural irrelevance. The fake smiles, the disingenuous answers and the smell of stupidity masked by the stench of hair product and allergy-inducing perfumes.

God love ‘em. They tried so hard this year. They even had a mini-reality show leading up to the big day. Michael Urie, a standout on Ugly Betty, was the host of the reality show. He should have used his strike time for something more useful. His career may not recover. Although he was smart enough not to appear on the actual telecast. Clinton from What Not to Wear took that one for the team.

And when Miss Michigan walked out in her HIDEOUS evening gown, looking like she’d run right over from her Ice Capades performance, you KNEW. You KNEW she was the next Miss America.

She was the perfect clash of class and trash. And that’s why I tune in religiously. To see one little ticky-tack girl's dream come true.