Must The Show Go On?

As you all know by now, Gray and I have been running the sound and lights for a beauty pageant this week.  There were two shows, one Wednesday night for Little Miss and Jr. Miss Lumbee.  Tonight is the big shebang for Teen Miss and Miss Lumbee.

When the going gets tough, I pull out my sense of humor.  It’s always been that way, and last night was no exception.  A change in the script delayed the start of practice for an hour.  Gray and  I sat in the sound & light booth waiting for things to start, headphones on and poised for action.  I looked over at him and said, “Well, Jim, the crowd sure looks lively tonight.  This promises to be one helluva showdown.  I’ve got my markers out and I’m ready to scribble all over this monitor.”  He started cracking up and we went on like that for a while, much to the amusement of the spotlight operator.

One of the main goals in a pageant is to impress the judges.  This competition is no different in that aspect.  Perhaps some of these girls are a tad too eager, though.  Several of them perform only directly in front of the judges’ area, directly beside the far right of the stage.  The girls stare in that direction through every dance number, sing to them solely and swish their fannies harder when passing by there.  I’m just waiting from some brave Lumbee soul to hop down off the stage and give them a table dance.

The night was full of problems, especially with the sound aspect of the festivities.  The reigning Teen Miss, whom I described before as being a carbon copy of her diva-like mom, was all over Gray’s case again about her mic not being loud enough.  I will mention in his defense, the little heifer has made six mic changes in three days and refuses to wear her outfit to practice so that we can really figure out what she needs.  If you do all of your sound checks wearing a neckline that reaches for your belly button and then on the big night wear a turtleneck, your levels are going to be all out of whack.  She doesn’t want to bothered with such details, just “make [her] sound good”.

After the sixth change and Momma Jr. Miss getting involved, Gray threw in the towel.  He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.  I asked if he could do anything about her feedback and he said, “Nope.  Her and her mother have yelled at me enough for one week.  Let them get the feedback.”

I can see it now – The Feedback Fairy.  A huge six and a half foot tall guy with a three foot shoulder span and sixty-two inch chest dressed in a pink tutu, suspended above the stage, shaking his wand here and there.  Magic and glitter sprinkle all over the contestants and the stage, while the speakers squawk and squeal, deafening all of the Lumbee Tribe.

“Sure,” I quipped.  “Leave a mic under your pillow at night and Gray the Feedback Fairy will leave ya a quarter.”

The third performer of the “Reflection” song started bellowing that her mic didn’t accentuate her voice enough.  Oh sure, blame it on the sound guy.  Let’s all dismiss that fact that nothing short of divine intervention is going to make Lurlene Lumpybutt sound decent at this point.

The girls took a break after three hours, though we didn’t get that opportunity.  Backstage, the script was being changed yet again, thought it was now after 8PM.  Practice was supposed to be over at that point.  We were only half-way through.  David, the technical director was as stressed as the lycra shorts Miss Teen’s mom wore.  He told us about all the changes and said, “That’s what these things are about, people.  The four parts of a pageant are dancing, talent, beauty and chaos.”  That’s funny, I could have sworn that they were dancing, screaming, booty and chaos.

The glamour was just ahead.  Finally we were able to start the evening gown part of the practice.  The girls all ganged up on Gray again and wanted a different mic so that they do their own intros.  The new mic was brought out and placed at center stage.  Each contestant, after swaggering around imitating a wagon with three wheels, was supposed to go to the mic and announce their name, number and do a little welcoming thing, most of which sounded something like this:  “Good even-un-ning, lay-dees and gentle-mens, and well-come.  I am Nadine Knock-knees, your Teen Miss contes-tant numba four.  To be graaaaaaate is to be miss-understood.”  I’m still not sure who Miss Understood is, though I suspect she is Boob-Job-Girl.  *shrugs shoulders*

After all of that fuss and bother, of the twelve contestants in both age groups, four of them couldn’t bring themselves to get within a foot of the mic stand.  (See the previous post about Gray’s theory on this)  Of course, they all bellowed that it should be turned up for them.

I told Gray not to be mad as steam escaped his ears.  If anything he should pity them.  The poor things – they’d been starving themselves for three weeks to get into their dresses and most likely lacked the energy to walk all the way up there.  That or they were saving up energy for that table dance.

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Just so you all know, Miss Booshall-Anna-Pick did not win.  The winner for the Little Miss was a girl who did a Cinderella song.  The Jr. Miss winner was the Little-Miss-Muffet girl, the only one I really didn’t want to see win.  Oh, well.  As she said, I’m sure she will “represent [her] people from the great Lumbee nation all over the whole wide world”.  *shudders at the thought*

One last gripe about Wednesday night’s show – I hope the Teen and Miss contestants get a clue and wear different dresses than the ones they strutted around in Wednesday night.  They were all called onstage to be introduced as a time killer and three of them were wearing black dresses that were almost sheer under the stage lights.  Two of them were wearing black thongs and one was going commando.