Little Miss Sunshine

"So, Brian, are you nervous?"

"What an odd question," I thought, but replied, "No, thanks for asking."

I stood at the podium in my slightly ill-fitting suit from the previous year. Across the empty lecture hall, sat the small panel of judges. A couple of the ladies looked down and stifled their giggles, just as the gaggle of girls out in the hallway had done mere moments before.

I ignored the distraction. My hastily assembled documents were arrayed before me. The inquisitive judge marked the time and said, "Well then, let's begin."

I had traveled with my high school speech team to this dry dusty college campus for yet another competition. I had signed up for the extemporaneous competition, but we were required to participate in two categories. So, I also signed up for something called "Radio News Broadcasting." It was another extemporaneous-like competition, and I apparently had something against events that required preparation...

So, there I stood, delivering hot-off-the-wire news for a panel of judges. Just 20 minutes before, I had been handed a sealed envelope containing news-wire clips, two advertisements and one public service announcement. It was up to me to select the relevant stories, edit them and assemble a 6 minute broadcast.

All of the judges were smiling. Broadly. As I left the room, I was met with more giggles and suggestively-raised eyebrows. Minutes later, as I stopped at the men's room, the mystery was finally solved. Obviously, during my entire presentation (and for god-knows-how-long before) my fly was down. And not just down, noooo, it was wide open...

Competition was the topic tonight as I flipped frequently away from the mind-numbingly boring Academy Awards. I wondered as I regularly do, why we give actors awards for acting (memorizing words and making sad faces), yet we do not hold glitzy glamorous extravaganzas for teachers, doctors or firemen??

I mean, why do THEY deserve more privilege?

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, I eventually popped in the Netflix-sent DVD of "Little Miss Sunshine," which went a great distance in reminding me why my daughter will never be anywhere near a little-girl beauty pageant. Sure, I might go, but my daughter? Never.

Is it even competition? I mean what's the contest? Is it to see which white trash mother can make their pre-pubescent daughter look like the trashiest whore?? Because, if that's the case, then really, they are all winners? Is this a competition that really needs to be?

Why do we love competition in the first place? Why is it soo ingrained in the human experience? We will compete over anything. Apart from the ubiquitous sports, board games, card games and video games; people vie for dominance in such things as sand castle building, hot dog eating, and Bar-B-Q. Even strippers here in Oregon have an annual strip-off...

There is, of course, NASCAR as well, although, it seems to me that it is less about competition, and more about drinking beer while watching OTHER people drive cars and change tires.

I am no different. While I tell myself that I don't enjoy competition, my life is full of it. My job, for instance, is all about competition, doing battle with opposing counsel, championing my client's cause. For entertainment, I play disc golf, or throw darts. I play poker and and enjoy long drawn-out strategy games. I've even engaged in one of the above-mentioned BBQ
contests (and won).

The topic of competition being the topic of conversation tonight, I have a confession to make. There is one more competition I'd like to enter, and it is outside of my comfort zone.

Each year contestants are gathered from across the country for a high-stakes battle royale. No, I do not mean the ultimate Fighting Championship. Are you kidding?

No, I'm talking about the Pillsbury Bake-Off, and I have a hunger for the prize. Well sure, the top prize is a million bucks, but actually, what I really want is to just participate. I can see myself in the white hat with the white apron, sizzling away in the great hall. Does this make me gay? Sure, maybe, but it's not the first thing...

Deadline is April 22. All I need now is a recipe.

Oh, and, just in case you were wondering about the radio news competition, I won. And that is why, to this day, I never zip my fly before speaking in public...