It seems like only yesterday that she existed, when she was voted that title because she was unquestionably qualified. She was the girl next door—friendly, engaging, an innocent bundle of energy, fun to be around, a girl with a sense of excitement who went beyond the ordinary to meet, greet, and visit with people.
Although the likes of her were everywhere, there was never a contest to see who was the best. No one cared. It was enough to admire such qualities and hope that whoever had them continued to be themselves.
Over the long haul, many who were never voted upon for the Miss Congeniality title continued to lighten rooms, brighten conversations, spread genuine joy and happiness—and did so even on days when life wasn’t at all favorable for such an attitude.
But where are the Miss Congenialities now when we so desperately need them? Where are the cheery hellos, the friendly smiles, the kind of brightness that truly shines even when nothing seems to be going right? Even during severe losses when all those obvious points of behavior weren’t appropriate, they added a feeling of hope and kindness, the kind of reinforcement which defies any kind of price tag.
To get to the answer, we have to go back to the 1950s. By then, we’d shaken off the dark shadow that had been WWII—those whose lives ended on the battlefield or limped home to be forever scarred and maimed. America’s freedom had been threatened and it was America’s freedom that won.
The whole country was wide open for business, overflowing with opportunity. Even the entertainment world lit itself with fire. The likes of Frank Sinatra and Doris Day melted into those of the Beatles and Karen Carpenter, Bob Hope into Johnny Carson, the Broadway show My Fair Lady into Star Wars. More kids were going to college. World travel became the “in” thing. Jet engines replaced propellers. TV grew from an exciting child to a giant. Atomic energy began producing electricity. Space travel was within reach. The internet, not yet even a dream, was waiting in the wings.
In politics, we still had the Democrats and Republicans with both their diehard and temporary believers. JFK brought excitement to the White House, Clinton brought youth. Ronald Reagan proved an actor could become president. Then there was the surprise and sorrow associated with three major assassinations—JFK and his brother Robert plus Martin Luther King.
Overseas, the U.S.S.R collapsed, the Middle East heated up, and our involvement in Korea and Vietnam caused bitter debates, then slid into two costly “conflicts” with few identifiable medals even for definite wins.
Then computers changed everything, eventually leading to convulsions stemming from the internet. Now, artificial intelligence and global warming are creating new concerns for which there are no ready and reliable answers.
As sweeping as those happenings were and in some ways still are, the pandemic dwarfed everything in its path—work habits, personal relationships, buying and selling, and even how we live. Anything even remotely resembling group action or interaction took a direct hit.
Both as a nation and in households, we now find ourselves deep in debt while insisting on taking on still more risk. At the same time, whether literally or symbolically, we are failing to acknowledge what we will do if we get cold because there is no heat or go hungry because there is no food.
More people are insisting on receiving more while delivering less. The already undesirable traits of uncertainty and suspicion are being tainted with hate. As somebody joked, the best conversation to be heard is that coming from a line of congenial blackbirds sitting high on a wire.
If we are to place the blame, it belongs to all of us—the perpetrators for ginning it up or allowing it in the first place, for thinking it’s okay while resisting efforts to prevent such antics from happening again.
In the midst of all of this, just where is Miss Congeniality, that smiling, sparkling, engaging, and lovable girl next door we all wanted to be around? Sadly, she no longer exists. She gave up and quietly walked away, leaving us to sink even more deeply into the muck and mire we have created for ourselves.
I do, however, imagine bringing the imaginary picture of her to my lips, lightly kissing it, then slowly extending it to arm’s length to admire her for what she brought into our lives.
Only time will tell and only God knows if she will ever again take her place in our midst, mark a time when she will not be just the girl next door, but everyone everywhere.
