There She Be

September 25, 2003

Today is the day to get bitch about how the creme brulee at Houlihan's doesn't crack.

Yesterday I walked home from work, a two hour hike. I had just bought the new Rufus Wainwright CD, "Want One," and I hadn't even listened to the whole thing by the time I made it to my apartment, as I kept re-listening to the songs over and over again. I cannot recommend this album enough; go out and buy this cd. He needs to be supported. How to describe it? It's just a gloriously rich album, with beautiful backup harmonies and symphonic additions. Rufus continues one of my favorite tricks of his, starting a song in one place and halfway through, switching it to something fantastic, so you don't dare skipping songs. His weird, enchanting voice reaches and he borrows everything from power ballads to Bolero. Imagine a unique voice and clever lyrics like Elvis Costello, but Steve Nieve's piano is an entire orchestra.. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Plus, if you look at the video for "April Fools," (from his first album), you'll see that he's beautiful.

</unasked for music review>

There She Be

Last weekend an American staple ran with hardly any fanfare, which makes me sort of sad. This is the grand champion of all pageants: the Miss America pageant. Some uneducated yokels may claim that Miss USA or Miss Universe may be bigger deals, but everybody knows that those contestants are not much more than inter/national hookers.

It's sort of a shame that this years pageant passed without much remark, but I suppose that with an increase of reality shows, watching 51 pretty women get culled down to one isn't that big a deal.

Every year, my mom and I used to make popcorn and watch the show in order to make fun of the contestants. We could usually pick the top five out of the initial 51 promenade. And if my mom and I weren't in the same city at the time, we'd talk on the phone during the commercials. One year I even taped it for her and took notes.

Now I know that there's nothing very grand about the pageant. It's insipid and a feminist's worst nightmare, but I like the tradition and old fashionedness of it all.

But this year, however, believe it not, they dumbed it down even more. For instance, it's gotten too hard for the contestants to read and pronounce the names of the states, so their sashes now read "Miss IL, Miss MD, Miss DC."

For the quiz section, now, questions have been taken from the prep rooms of "Blind Date," so contestants are now being asked questions such as "What are you looking for in a boyfriend?", "What's your perfect date?" and "Are you willing to get down and dirty in the hot tub?" The saddest thing is when they get the question wrong.

In order to put more emphasis on the physical fitness element of the swimsuit competition, a handful of anatomy lessons have been thrown in as well. As Miss Iowa paraded around in her swimsuit, a judge pointed to stomach and asked her, "What goes in there?" "Food!" she exclaimed, rubbing her it. (she earned 2 points.)

The worst part was the talent competition. One contestant tuned a piano, badly. Another talked about her favorite song. And another, in lieu of tap dancing, merely tapped her foot impatiently with her tap shoes on as she waited for the segment to be over.

Whatever happened to tradition?