An Open Letter of Apology to All Miss Virginia Contestants (sort of)

Well, I did it again. I knew it was going to happen. And, probably, truth be told, I wanted to irritate someone. So, pat yourself on the back, Steve. You did. All I really did was innocently write a column about the Miss Virginia pageant in our September/October issues of West End's Best and Chesterfield Living Magazines. And, you know me, I'm one of the nicest guys around. I just sort of expressed my dismay at the horrible quality of the pageant's annual television show. That shouldn't make anyone mad, should it?
The reason I say I knew it was going to happen, is that this is the second time I've written such a column. I had seen a previous telecast, about two years ago. It was so bad, I just had to express my opinion. But that was two years ago. I didn't catch last year's blockbuster presentation. So when I stumbled across the show a few months back, I decided to watch. You know what? It was worse than the one I'd seen before. It may have been the worse one I'd ever seen. But, read my colulmn to learn more.
The original piece I had done, back in 05, had resulted in an irate phone call from some woman connected with the pageant. I politely listened and even offered to do a rebuttal article in which the caller could point out how wrong I was. That offer was never accepted.
Today, i get a phone call from one of the local directors of the pageant. She has seen my most recent article, and she was even unhappier than the first gal who had called.
"Hey," I said, "it's just a humor column. Don't take it so seriously."
"That was a humor column?" she asked."
"Well, it was supposed to be," I said.
"I work for Style Weekly," she said, "and I know humor columns. That wasn't one."
Okay, we're even. I hate the pageant and she hates me. I can live with that.
I was going to offer this lady the opportunity to respond to my "humor," but she was so humorless that I decided to just humor her (get the pun? now that's funny) and listen, which I did. I was determined to just keep my mouth shut, which I didn't.
She got on my nerves blabbing on and on about how wonderful these contestants are. "These are the sorts of girls you'd want your son to marry," she raved.
"I wouldn't go that far," I responded. And I meant it. If I had a son, I wouldn't want him marrying anyone vain enough to get involved in a "beauty" contest. I'd rather he married an Amway saleswoman. Well, maybe not. But, really, would you like a beauty contestant sitting at your dinner table? I can see myself going beserk as I ate my fried chicken and mashed potatoes, finally shrieking, "Shut up and sit down. I hate opera, and I don't care what you would do if you were elected President. "
Anyway, back to my phone conversation. I finally had enough of this pompous director. She told me how I'd done so much damage. "We depend on corporate donations," she wailed. "No one will want to donate after they read your column."
I wish I had that much power. After listening to her drone on and on, I finally said, "How can you complain about my criticizing the Miss Virginia pageant when Style Weekly has destroyed the businesses of local restaurant owners with their unfair criticism?" Now, to be honest, I don't know of any case where Style Weekly has done that. But I do think their food critic is an obnoxious bore.
"Let me tell you about our restaurant reviews," Miss Highhorse says. (Goody, I've touched a nerve) "When we go to a restaurant and have a bad experience, we go three times to make sure they're really bad before we write a negative review."
"Well thanks," I tell her. "You've made me feel better. I've watched more than three Miss Virginia telecasts and they're all bad. So, I guess based on Style's procedures, I was alright with what I wrote."
Funny stuff! I'm zinging one after another and the lady doesn't laugh at a one. She just keeps on telling me how marvelous these gals are.
"They do look good in swimsuits," I say, thinking maybe she'll look at me with a new-found admiration.
"Good-bye," she says.
So, bottom line. If any of you were planning on making a sizeable donation to the Miss Virginia pageant, don't let me stop you. But, if you have any funds left over, how much would you give me if I came over and sang an aria or two?"