That reminds me. Last Friday night, my pre-teen and I were present at the naming of the new Miss Hawaii.
How can I possibly mention Shirley and Melissa Ann Short in the same breath? With all due respect to her newly crowned majesty, both gals were caught up in the rat race of life.
Granted, the human being was way prettier, smarter, more talented and certainly more determined. The stunning speech communications major at Hawaii Pacific University won the long-coveted scepter in her fourth attempt at the title. Now that's tenacity.
It made me wonder, though, why being Miss Hawaii meant so much to Melissa that she devoted five years to the task.
I couldn't understand it and, Lord knows, I tried to be open-minded - which is why pageant executive director Tom McGarvey extended an invitation in the first place. He was quite optimistic.
Honest, Tom, my 11-year-old daughter and I tried to enjoy the festivities.
Like the rest of the crowd, we got caught up in the evening gown segment, when the "girls" (that's what everybody called them) were adorned in sequins and draped chiffon.
During the talent competition we applauded approvingly, and tried not to stare too critically during the swimsuit phase.
And when 23-year-old Melissa was announced the winner - she covered her mouth and her knees buckled in disbelief - that moment captured the epitome of every young girl's dream, at least in the "good" old days.
As Miss Hawaii was mobbed with hugs and leis, I leaned over to ask my daughter, Kelly, what she thought of the hulabaloo. Hunger and fatigue may have partially motivated her response. "This is stupid," she answered. "Can we eat?"
Yes, sir, that's my baby.
Not everybody agrees, which is why there is no dearth of contestants who want to be Miss Somebody. But let's be honest and call them what they are: beauty competitions. Forget the doubletalk that they are educational events because the winners get money to go to college.
If this truly were the Miss Hawaii SCHOLARSHIP Pageant, a female Einstein would be reigning instead of someone who is young, thin, gorgeous and well-spoken, who can sing opera, and who has perfect teeth, hair, posture and makeup.
WHICH returns us to the analogy of Shirley and Melissa, two females who managed to evoke conflicting emotions in me. Although generally repulsed by that furry white rascal, I actually mourned her inevitable passing.
It's the same love-hate relationship that characterized my eye-opening experience on Friday. It brought the realization that I still object to the premise of such strivings, which pit woman against woman, and are based on the male ideal of what females should be - beautiful, shapely and non-threatening - instead of what most females are.
That night, however, I couldn't help but be hypnotized by the vision of 15 contestants walking back and forth across the stage, mesmerizing the audience with their rhythmic strides and toothy smiles. And Melissa Ann Short was the best of them.
What a rat race.