Miss America

The whole strutting one’s body in a swimsuit in hopes of “winning,” goes against all my sensibilities. Have to say.

Still, I smile when I think of the Miss America pageant. As a little girl, I watched the annual cattle call-like festivities with my grandmother and she would ask, “Cathy Ann, who should we root for?” We kept score and wrote down our favorites. I loved the event because grandma and I hissed and clapped through the two-hour program. And I got to stay up late.

Some traditions have little inherent value, except for the memories. And that means everything.

(S-R photo: Miss Montana Victoria Valentine displays her shoe during the Miss America Shoe Parade at the Atlantic City boardwalk . )