Rites Of Passage

Ah friends, when I woke up yesterday morning, I knew Id be spending time with some of the finest minds in my community. Did I expect to be taking my children to their first ever live bikini contest within hours after that energizing, community-affirming, hope-building meeting? Why now that you mention it, I did not. Surprise boys!

It started when i came home from said “great mind meeting” full of ideas and energy. Checked my email and my wimmin were talking about heading down to see Moe’s husband’s band at a local rib burn-off. (friends we’ve been dancin to that band for almost 20 years. I will go on record as saying never, in all the years and all the ways Ive seen those boys play music, has a bikini contest been involved. Until Yesterday). Talked the boys (and a completely unwitting Cousin Litchick) into trekking on down to join my wimmin for pig, beer and dancing.

In my typical “shoot first, ask questions later” way of approaching life, I of course did not make any attempt to see what else would be going on. It said “all ages” and indeed they let my kids in for free so who am I to even consider the idea that the Miss (insert hometown here) Bikini contest would not be a family affair?

Good news friends! In my hometown? Apparently it is indeed a family affair! My children were not even remotely the only ones there. (more on that as tale unfolds) Still, it all began innocently enough. We drank beer, we danced and we ate our pig parts (Dennick and my other veg friends, shut your eyes and think happy thoughts. Besides, Im sure the pig was a jerk). Then, it began. In all it’s hideous glory friends. Our Very First Family Bikini Contest. Despite the fact that Gill was completely appalled by the event (yes I know that would not be a typical male response. that’s exactly why we work so well and have been together so long) neither Litchick or I could look away. It was a beautifully unholy train wreck. Emceed by deejays from the local classic rock station, Miss (IHH) Bikini contest was a shining example of why I sometimes see my town as the crazy uncle that we all love dearly but get a little nervous about and embarrassed by when said uncle interacts with folks outside the family.

Now friends, maybe the ipod, the satellite radio and the cd player has sheltered me from the “real world”, but Im wondering, is it common for witty deejay repartee to include the exact same not funny jokes about breasts and g-spots? Don’t get me wrong folks, Im all about well-done boob/g-spot humor, but sweetie? Yes you in the hot pink boobie sling shot top? Nobody laughed the first time you said that you and the biker dude emcee were Breast Friends. No matter how many times you made the joke, it just wasn’t going to be funny. Im sorry hon. I wish it was some other way for you, I really do. And dude, calling her the g-spot and juxtaposing that against the friday deejay by calling him the “hairy g-spot” was just well….gross. Again, it Never. Got. Funnier.

I wish I could say that things improved when you interacted with the lovely contestants but sadly this was not the case. I hate to be an armchair bikini contest monday morning quarterback but how much is it to ask that you come up with a little originality in your questions beyond, which of the regionally rival football teams do you prefer? Yagerbombs or (we can’t remember, not yagerbombs)? If your family was a tv show what show would it be? How will you spend the money?(These were asked by hairy biker deejay) and then Leather or Lace? Dom or sub? Do you role play? (these asked by hot pink boobie slingshot deejay). The bikini women to their credit were as gracious as one could be under the circumstances.

Despite Gill’s continued pleas to leave this horrifying scene, I did attempt to tape the entire event on my phone. (I had dreams of a grand entrance into the world of youtube. Alas it was not to be so but alas, the taping was a colossal failure. I apologize directly to Litchick at this point as I know she was as committed to immortalizing this little slice of hometown as I was.) Litchick had to leave before the winner was announced, but I promised her I would keep her abreast (HA I MADE A BREAST JOKE!!) of the outcome.

Had the taping been successful, I could have offered you folks the above experience live as well as a moving record of the following events:
1) Norm flashing the women a wonderful little biker hand sign he picked up from other members of the audience.
2) His ongoing dialog about the event including how pretty the contestants all were and how he wanted the girl in the sparkly gold bikini to win.
3) His horror to find out that not everyone wins the contest and his verbal commitment to grow up to judge bikini contests so every girl could win.
4) The grotesque turn of events where the emcees announced THE WRONG CONTESTANT for third place. Did I think you could make this more humiliating for these women? No i did not. Kudos for surpassing my absolute worst case scenarios.
And finally, the absolute cherry on this spectacle of poorly done decadence:
5) Two little boys propped up on a chair dragged over by their mom front stage for the results. I would age them both younger than seven.
She was actually a really nice lady and I felt strangely redeemed by allowing my boys to witness this. At least I didn’t let them pull up a chair (yes go me. I am indeed Mother Of The Year)

Instead, all I have is this:

It's not a flattering picture. Norm is right, all the women were winners.

It's not a flattering picture. Norm is right, all the women were winners.

All in all, I would say my five dollars was well spent. Ribs, beer, dancing and above all, the kind of experience that has me still shaking my head asking myself “did that really happen? in public? in 2008? right here in my town?”. Wow. Just….wow. (and in case you’re wondering, I would definitely attend another local bikini contest. But this time alone and armed with plenty of editable video)


10 Responses to Rites Of Passage

  1. Moe says:

    I too liked the sparkly gold bikini (Norm has good taste). Honestly it’s all a coors light-fueled haze to me but I do know that it was fun! I’m glad you guys made it down! 🙂

  2. lucy says:

    I cringe. It’s my hometown too, such a lovely slice of middle America, no? Norm. I love his beautiful little mind.

  3. Pascal Ebert says:

    Firstly – I annex the phrase “Hairy G-Spot.” I shall use this to name either a new bartering currency in the commune/cult that I’ve not yet got around to incorporating, or a beat poetry band that I’m assembling for regional tours and county fair campground gigs in Idaho and/or upstate New York.

    Secondly – there are really three kinds of people in the world to my mind. The first group resemble me in that they would likely never use the phrase “Hairy G-Spot” spontaneously – certainly never intentionally. The second group would be inclined to use the phrase but only because the hairy g-spot represents an unattainable goal. Alas, this group would never receive an invitation to seek the g-spot and would certainly never achieve it even if compelled to do so by magistrate. The third and final group use the phrase majestically and, in fact, own the words and brandish them as a weapon of truth and sticky, tepid irony. You, my dear lady, are in the third and most noble of groups and I commend thee.

  4. luckybuzz says:

    Norm’s commitment to judging bikini contests is the best thing I’ve heard today.

  5. gretty says:

    Oh. My. God. Why did I not show up earlier?

  6. Dexter Colt says:

    I enjoy women in bikinis. I really do. But, these “bikini contests” are ALWAYS train wrecks. There are some higher class ones (i.e., Reef Girls), but even they are ruined by the never-funny jokes of the emcees. The only thing more face-palming are the impromptu wet t-shirt contests…

    THAT’S IT! You’ve convinced me to organize and emcee a bikini contest. At least my jokes will be funny and my questions poignant.

  7. Dexter Colt says:

    No, no! Too late!

  8. wendylady says:

    My question is. Did they win prizes or money? “Making them whores.” Or did they do it to show off thier bodies and get recognition for looking good?”Making them sluts.”

  9. crseum says:

    Moe- I KNOW! She was lovely. We tried to find you to say goodbye but it was so dark and we were transporting open ketchup. It was awesome to hang with you all though.
    Lucy- Indeed it is. Garrison Keiller has nothing on us.
    M. Ebert- Ah kind sir. Your words have such deep truth. I only hope I can live up to the beacon of promise they suggest.
    LB- He is such an amazing little kid no?
    Gretty- I was wondering this myself! Your commentary to this was sadly missed.
    Dexter- Too late? Are you kidding? I think you are sitting on a gold mine with that idea!
    Wendylady- Actually, you will be happy to hear that such sexist and demeaning sentiment did not appear to be overt at all during the contest. I had to reflect on why that particular brand of women hating undertone thankfully did not rear its ugliness in this specific contest. I am speculating that it was because of what seemed to be a subtle but immediately evident disparity in perceptions of self-dignity between the emcees and the contestants. It allowed the women to immediately show-case their own personal sense of inner worth thus causing the audience to adapt a tone of respect while preventing folks from seeking out ways to engage such hating. The disparity was clear from the get-go most evident during the poise each of the contestant showed during the train wreck of the Q & A. It was a delightful juxtaposition of roles where the emcees embarrassed themselves so much, one could actually feel the contestants empathic discomfort as they gave their responses. Hey! Maybe there is a secret “code” of bikini and wet-t-shirt contests that forces emcees to adapt such behavior as a way of empowering contestants? Dexter may be out of luck after all then.

  10. […] town name here) superstar show. Let’s just hope that it won’t take young Don down the dark sordid road of other local contests.  Ok Don is going to sing country. I must excuse myself from commenting on this as my anti-country […]

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