Miss Ing: A Winning Candidate

Well, the Saturday TV-watching marathon ended for me just as Miss Wisconsin was singing opera. She seemed pretty good as I watched her in my drowsy state,  but she was not good enough to keep me from going into Dream Land.

Besides, I already knew she'd won Miss America, thanks to Facebook.

I avoided Yahoo Internet news last night cuz I knew it was very possible that a headline would be letting us Westerners know the 2012 winner BEFORE the pageant began on our Pacific Standard Time TVs.

Sorta like the time a few years ago when my niece called from Las Vegas.  
She happened to be on site at the National Finals Rodeo prior to when we would be sitting down to watch the TV version and our Sandpoint boy,  Rowdy Buechner,  who was doing very well in the bareback competition.

The phone rang.  There was a lot of noise in the background. 

Still, I could make out the awful news which I did not want to hear BEFORE seeing Rowdy perform.

"I just saw Rowdy Buechner get bucked off!" my niece yelled. 

I can't remember the rest of the conversation, but I think she knew by the time she hung up that we sure wished she had kept that news to herself, at least for another hour. 

I don't know if I thanked her for the hot scoop from Las Vegas. 

Well, like the rodeo, last night's pageant news did not stay in Las Vegas long enough.

It's not too exciting watching your potatohead queen do her thing--in vain--when you already know a cheesehead has won.

Still, I do like cheese with my potatoes, so no complaining there.

I'm still convinced our Miss Idaho represented the state in nothing less than stellar fashion.

Throughout most of my life I've enjoyed a good beauty pageant.  It sorta makes up for the "there but for the grace of God go I."  

In my case, God didn't dish out grace, beauty, coordination, talent or anything that would allow me through the door of any respectable beauty pageant. 

The closest I ever came to "strutting my stuff" on a stage was in a potato sack (just like Miss Idaho), black leotards, black turtleneck and a huge paper mache head.  

Good ol' Sally O'Donnell and Marsha McComas, the Pep Club honchos that year,   dreamed up my starring role for the Drill Team Variety Show back in 1964. 

"You'll be the rat fink," they told me one day while proposing the idea in secret.  "Comic relief, that's what you'll do."

My job was to appear outside the curtain,  dance around, fall down,  do stupid things and keep the audience occupied while stage scene changes were taking place behind the curtain.

They had found the perfect candidate, and I did not even need to practice.  

Fortunately, my name, playing the role of Rat Fink,  did not appear on the program, but I'm sure it did not take the audience very long to figure out my real identity.  

In addition to performing comic relief, I helped Marilynn McKenney that night.  

I think she played an gorilla swinging across the stage on a rope for a number from South Pacific.  

Her contact dropped from her eye as she swung.

When Marilynn's segment had ended, the curtain closed, I ran out, did my thing and then got called back.  As I ran back across the stage, I looked down and saw the contact lens.

So, there ya go, Marianne's closest brush to stardom.  The Drill Team Variety Show that year was a success as was the show a few years later when I was actually advising the drill team. 

Remembering the success of those shows during my high school days, I was happy to continue the tradition.  

We had some rollicking good performances back there in the '70s, and I remember some acts today as if they were yesterday:  Pat Gunter riding a tricycle and falling on the floor, Jim Hubbard using a brownbag as a duck call----blowing it up really big, taking it away from his mouth and yelling "Here duck.  Here duck," and probably most memorable, Tom Evans miming the ten o'clock curfew siren. 

Definitely "you had to be there" situations, but so funny.

One year the Drill Team Variety Show presented a "Miss Ellaneous" pageant.  I wrote up the basic format----probably again a way for me to deal with beauty vicariously.

We were looking for the true "Miss Ellaneous."  We had about a dozen candidates, all members of the Ponderettes.

Miss Adventure---climbed a metal ladder while wearing hiking books and German liederhausen. 

Miss Spell----did not get a 100 on her spelling test.

Miss Calculate---wasn't so good in math. 

Miss Shapen---ate spaghetti and drooled it down her face.

Miss Matched---could not figure out the right ensemble.

Miss Fortune----I think a crystal ball was involved.

Miss Quito---long nose, zipped around the stage looking for victims

Miss Judge----well, you get the verdict

There were others . . . 

. . . And, then there was "Miss Ing."  

She had a handsome escort but never showed up for the pageant.

Still, she won. 

Nobody was jealous.  Everybody seemed happy.  A good time was had by all.
And, best yet,  nobody knew until the very end of the pageant who was gonna win.  I think it was a lot more fun back then.