A few people have asked why it seems every year that I cover the International pageants that I include a photograph of an old McDonald’s from the 50′s era. Believe it or not, there is a story behind it.

Every finals night, I visit the original McDonald’s on Lee Street in Des Plaines, IL. My brother lives nearby, so at first it was just convenient. Afterall, I always knew the Chicken McNuggets would settle properly in my stomach and sometime pageant results can get you exciteable. Or turn your stomach. So you want a meal you know will settle properly.

I love that old McDonald’s. The original location has been turned into some kind of shrine and the new one that still operates is like a mini-museum with memorabilia all over the walls. It isn’t the Norman Rockwell print portraying a McDonald’s meal that keeps me coming back, though. Nor the diorama of an idealized Golden Arches from the gravel roof days. It’s a little photo of what I imagine was one of the original crews in their white uniforms with black shoes and belts and suave paper hats.

I’ve imagined stories for each of the nine gentlemen in the picture. One guy looks quite a bit older than the others who I imagine was the surrogate Poppa for the group. I’d imagine him listening to all the girl problems of the other young men on the crew. Seated next to him, was what I’m fairly certain was the wisenheimer of the crew…always pulling a stunt on someone or cracking a joke. Then, there is the cool guy in the back row that wears his little hat a little cocked to one side and has his hands resting comfortably in his pockets.

Those aren’t the guys I focus on, though. It’s this little character in the back row. I imagine him to be a quite little immigrant with some difficulty with the language. He doesn’t have his arms crossed trying to look tough like some of the crew. He instead has his hand perched on the young man’s shoulder next to him with a smile that demonstrates the deep, piercing pride he has to be a part of this crew. He just seems jazzed about the entire experience. At the time, he couldn’t have known that this crew would perform so well that a worldwide restaurant entity would be based on their efforts. In fact, in my imagination at least, I figure this funny little character was probably picked on by the other crew members–for being skinny, for being short, or for some funny little ACK-sent he still had from the Old Country.

I guess this may be the very reason I’m so taken by this little guy. I’m the son of two immigrants, that sacrificed much, to enter the greatest country on the planet. I see some of that sentiment within the cute little toothy smile of the man in the paper hat. But there is more to it. He’s proud to be in this group of men. Despite all the kidding around, he’s proud to be with them. He may not always feel like he is a part of things, but he’s just tickled to get to see this world that they’ve created here among themselves.

So it is with me.

I mean, let’s face it. I don’t belong in this whole pageant community. The flabby forty-year-old from Milwaukee, Wisconsin doesn’t fit in with the glamourous sparklefests that pageantry engulfs. Yet, this community has accepted me, sure with some teasing, but accepted me and included me in some of its most exciting and most taxing moments. And I’m just tickled. Tickled to see these young ladies become who they want to be and promote the causes they find near and dear to them.

So with a smile, and a tilt of my paper hat, I return into the kitchen and make some of those French fries that are just so difficult to stop eating…and hopefully make a podcast you just can’t wait and want to keep listening to.

By the way, now I’m hungry for those French fries all over again. I just hope you’re still hungry for more PageantCasts because I have one made to order for you next…and every…Tuesday. See you then!