There She Is....

Originally Written Between 2016-2017                                           

(SING)  There she is…. Miss America!  There she is….. your ideal! (END)

 

The beautiful crown is placed on her head.  And as Bert Parks sings that famous song, the new Miss America walks down the runway and gives the “queen’s wave” to her admirers.

 

As a little girl, I dreamed of being a queen.  A princess would be a great alternative, but the thought of being a queen was my absolute goal.  I, of course, being the naïve child that I was, had no idea how I could become a queen.  I loved Queen Elizabeth.  In fact, I kept a scrapbook of newspaper photos of her.  I even wrote her letters inviting her to stay at my home whenever she visited Minnesota.  My mom only found out about my one-sided correspondence to Buckingham Palace when my letter was returned by the post office.  Evidently, I didn’t place enough postage on the envelope for an “International” delivery.  I remember mom repeating this little story every time Queen Elizabeth visited Canada – figuring that Minnesota was just a “hop-skip-and-a-jump” from the Queen sleeping in our spare bedroom!  

 

Well, the possibility of becoming a Queen started when each spring, my parents, who owned a roller rink, produced a skating show with over a hundred skaters.  In addition, they held a King and Queen contest with the crowning of the royalty at the end of each skating show.  

 

At last!  My chance to be a Queen.  My hopes were shattered, however, when my dad explained to me that my brother, sister, and I could never be a candidate since everyone would think the contest was rigged if we won.  Like I couldn’t win on my own?  And, so, I was given the role of “Lady in Waiting” – which meant I got to skate up to the new Queen and present her with a bouquet of roses.

 

My next chance to become a Queen was during my senior year of high school.  I, along with several of my girlfriends, was asked to “run” for the title of Miss Forest Lake.  I have to admit that after seeing my competition, I knew I was not going to win.  But, for some reason – probably so I wouldn’t be labeled a “quitter,” or disappoint my mom, I decided to remain in the contest.  The winner of the Miss Forest Lake pageant would participate in the Miss Minnesota contest and Miss Minnesota would enter the Miss America pageant.   That meant I was only three contests away from being a Queen!  How hard could that be?

 

The fact that one had to participate in interviews, evening gown, swimsuit and talent portions of the pageant frightened me. But, mom had an ace up her sleeve.  She asked a former Miss Forest Lake, Joanne Worth, to give me some pointers.  Joanne showed me how to walk into a room with the appropriate eye contact, how to speak to the judges, and how to move in an evening gown and swimsuit.  And, she even loaned me her swimsuit and evening gown!  I figured if they worked for her – she did win, after all – it could work for me!

 

The one thing Joanne couldn’t give me was a talent.  Well, I had played the piano since I was eight years’ old and now was 17.  I had played in many recitals and in three “Ten Piano Concerts” in Northrup Auditorium.   But, I couldn’t do it.  You see, one of my girlfriends since first grade, Judy T., was also a candidate. 

 

Now…. She was a natural pianist and so talented (and still is).  How could I beat her?  I couldn’t.  I didn’t even want to try.  She had the talent.  I didn’t.  Oh, I knew how to play the piano.  But, Judy not only could play the piano – she loved playing the piano.  As a side note, Judy went on to get her BA and Masters in Music, and taught band and choir her entire career.

 

Anyway – playing the piano was just not an option for me since Judy was in the contest.  So, the next best thing was to sing a song.  Mom asked my kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Pepin, to play the piano for me as I danced around the stage and sang, “I’m Going to Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair” – from South Pacific.  I did okay.  At least I got through the entire song!  As I look back, I don’t remember there being a microphone around; so, I’m not sure many people past the first three rows in the auditorium actually heard me.  Whew!

 

For your information, I didn’t win.  No second or third place runner-up, either.  Didn’t win swimsuit or talent. Neither did Judy.  The gal that won, Mary M., was a beautiful blond who lip-synced the words in a little skit.  She may have been the prettiest one in the contest.  Not the most talented; but, the prettiest.  And, I guess that was what counted the most.  I know – waaa, waaa, waaa! 

 

This little story needs to have a happy ending.  And, it does.  On September 18, 1965, I wore my mother’s wedding dress when I married Norm.  And, since my mom had me wear her wedding veil when I made my First Communion at the age of seven, I needed a new veil for my own wedding.  Finally!  I got my crown!