Cheerleading controversies and Texas just go together like scandals and Washington, DC., don't they? A north Texas high school made the news last week with a big brouhaha over cheerleading tryouts. You can read a summary of the events here, but the gist of the story is this: 32 girls tried out for the squad. They were scored on their abilities, and only 14 girls had scores high enough to make the squad. The parents (you know, it always gets interesting when the parents get involved) of the 19 girls who didn't make the cut complained that the scoring was flawed, so the school board, attempting to make everyone happy (yeah, that *always* works), decided all 32 girls could be cheerleaders. Of course, then the parents of the original 14 were unhappy, so they filed a grievance. The school board has spent countless hours and taxpayer dollars on this issue.
So, in keeping with the contemporary American theme of entitlement - regardless of talent, effort, or achievement - I've come up with a list of things I think I'm owed, just for being mediocre.
- A Nobel Prize for literature, just for writing in this blog. In fact, I should get the prize for all the times I didn't blog. Better yet, I should get it for writing about autobiographical events that didn't even happen to me.
- The Mrs. America title. Never mind that I'm so ugly I could make a train back up and take a dirt road. I want a tiara and an armful of roses.
- A Grammy award. We'll just ignore the fact that my singing sounds like an aged sheep giving birth to triplets.
- My own TV talk show. I can interrupt guests just as well as Tyra Banks.
- A competitor's spot in the next winter Olympics. I want to skate short track with Apolo Anton Ohno, and even though I'll wipe out on the first step, I should get the gold medal. (Sorry, Apolo.)
- A competitor's spot in the next summer Olympics, where I won't compete in any events but should be awarded an unprecedented 22 individual gold medals.
- A permanent display of all my quilts in the Smithsonian Museum. Even the one that looks like the fabric was selected by a color-blind five year old with ADHD.
Well, that's enough to for the powers that be to start on. I expect the awards to start arriving as early as Wednesday.
In the meantime, I've got to take my pug over to that high school. I'm going to insist they make him a cheerleader. Animals have rights, too, you know.