The front page of today’s Philly Daily News reads “MESS AMERICA.”
The once-iconic Miss America Pageant is now awash in turmoil with key resignations and vicious infighting among the new management team with only six short weeks to go. Or eight weeks. I forget. Whatever. To, me, Miss America is a sexist dinosaur, which of course explains its resilient popularity. Pop culture is a mansion of many houses, each with its own residents.
Which brings us more or less to an idea that should be right up Donald Trump’s back alley. The idea is that Trump should issue one of his executive orders that puts him immediately in charge of Miss America. He could say he saw it as patriotic duty to rescue a cultural idol that he always aspired to in his very successful days as a beauty pageant promoter of great beauty pageants even in Russia.
He could say that nobody has any real idea of how busy a president really is but that he is setting aside whatever time is needed to bail out Miss America and make her great again. Maybe some nice pink ball caps with “Make Miss America Great Again” and a retail of maybe $20.
In fact, his first MA acts could be to bring back the bathing suit and evening gown competitions. He could even add that the bathing suits will actually be bikinis or even thongs and that there’ll be only strapless evening gowns. The president could say that he’s updating those categories because he knows that the traditional American marketing mantra of “Sex Sells” is still alive and thriving among real Americans (read: “his people”).
Then after about a week there’ll be some kind of crisis or other which needs all the president’s vast and deep attention and so he could turn his Miss America duties over to someone he thinks is hot enough to be Miss America herself – his daughter Ivanka.
She could say that after liquidating her clothing empire at a vast astronomical profit, she will be proud to bring her business, management, negotiating, and warm and deep people skills to the thankless job of giving this old bag a makeover, which was how her father had described the job when he told her about it that morning while he brushed his teeth and talked on the speaker phone, which he rarely did so she knew it was sort of important.
Anyhow, to win over all the backstabbing bitches her father told her about who were trying to run things and will now report to her and can be fired by her in a hot Boardwalk second, to get them to see how cool she is, she can come up with the idea of having another, cooler guy like Bert Parks singing and hamming it up and showing everybody how loveable he is. And who else for this new cool-ass emcee job but her man himself – Mr. Jared Kushner!! – cool and loveable as they come and now complete with a security clearance for all those beauty pageant secrets there have been whispers about for years.
And then, on the big night, with a part of the whole world watching, Jared could end his first song and schtick with the announcement that he’s really thought it over all through the rehearsals and anxiety that he has to have a co-host and that it has to be you, Ivanka!
And out you come and when the reviews are in, there will be two new America’s Sweethearts.
Oh, yeah, and a new Miss America.
It’s all great.
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