"Say What!?!"

I thought the controversy that has been brewing like an unattended teapot in these central Florida environs in which vehemently opposing sides have been debating whether or not the local American League Rays professional baseball team should be permitted to build a new waterfront stadium was to be the low light of our contentious summer. But no. Another bombshell had yet to be exploded.

On this past Friday the Strawberry Festival Beauty Pageant Committee announced...hold your breath...that hence forth the contestants in this annual event would no longer be required to participate in a swimsuit competition. Oh the humanity! Well, in my opinion, there goes the neighborhood.

Tradition! Where is the hue and cry to maintain this time honored tradition to endure the talent portions of such extravaganzas so that at long last the time would arrive for the aspiring young ladies to parade across the stage to the admiring gazes of the audience and the critical review of the judges? Is nothing sacred any more? Next thing you know the Miss. America pageant will take a serious look at eliminating the swimsuit competition. Or, perish the thought, Miss. Universe. What is the world coming to?

In response to the critics that questioned this drastic revamping of the pageant, Ms. Sandee Sytsma, the festival queen coordinator stated, "We didn't take lightly breaking tradition," suggesting that the pageant received complaints in prior years that the swimsuit portion of the evening's contest actually precluded many other would be participants. Sounds pretty wimpy to me. In lieu of swimsuits, the ladies will now appear in casual wear outfits...and the grade point average has been elevated from 2.75 to 3.0. Now that is a step in the right direction, although it no doubt will diminish the otherwise likelihood that at least one of the contestants will attempt to provide an answer to a well thought out question that will leave the contestant, judges and audience scratching their heads.

"Okay, Miss. McMasters, take a big breath. As one of the ten finalists in this year's Miss. Garlic Beauty Pageant, sponsored by Sparkling Breath Mouthwash, and the winner of the talent portion of the pageant...and by the way, your consumption of the 21 chilly peppers was truly spectacular...please answer the following question for our esteemed panel of judges."

"Okee-dokey Biff. I'm ready."

"Great. "If you could have one wish come true, what would that one wish be?"

"Oh my...do you mean other than me like winning this contest?"

"Yes, 'like' that."

"Gee Biff...I have so many wishes that I would like to come true." I 'd certainly like it if there was world peace and no more like wars and stuff...and that all the children had mommys and daddys that loved them, and like plenty of food for everyone to eat, and like really clean air to breath, water too, and this global warming stuff would like just go away, and like everyone could like go to a doctor whenever they felt like it, but I wouldn't like want to have a dream like I had last night where I dreamed I had eaten a really nasty chilly hot dog and it made me so sick, and I like threw up all over my evening gown, and..."

"Thank you...thank you, Miss. McMasters. We 'like' get it."

Listen..I get it too. If it were not for the awarding of education scholarships to these aspiring young women for their winning efforts, I would have no difficulty in saying farewell permanently to all beauty pageants, few of which are little more than thinly guised means for commercial exploitation. If such events are to continue then by all means the elimination of the "beauty" portion of the contests, currently overly hyped and emphasized by gratuitous displays of sexuality, would be a most welcomed alteration. There is a grace to womanhood that need not be sexually exploited, but enhanced by the deliberate display and appreciation of their God-given talents and mental acumen. I appreciate the appearance of a good looking lady in a bathing suit as much as the next male, preferring to enjoy that appreciation in its proper setting, like walking along a beach. Parading in swim attire in the glare of stage lighting serves no viable conclusion other than to garner a wider prurient spectator.

Having said that...I need to locate my ticket to this weekend's Miss. Biker Babe Pageant.