(I mentioned in another blog that there's something synchronous about the random volume-picking process in these posts. It happened again.)
Saturday, September 16, 1989
Now it's after 11:00 p.m. I feel better after spending some time with friends.
We watched the Miss America pageant - replete with a panel of celebrity judges, including Donald Trump. The implications of that choice of judge are disgusting - i.e., we should aspire to impress someone who is a power-hungry, arrogant rich man.
It was interesting to note that they now feel compelled to rationalize the swimsuit competition by talking about "fitness" and how the judges will be looking for "muscle tone" (and cows fly). How many more years before that particular tradition dies completely?
(It turns out that the answer is 29. Just this week, while I was mining this journal for a blog post, the Miss America Organization, now under mostly female leadership, announced that they are scrapping the swimsuit competition for the first time since the competition started in 1921.)