I can’t remember the last time I watched the Miss America pageant. As a child I used to lay on the floor in front of the TV, chin in my hands, watching excitedly as the 53 women vied for the coveted bejeweled crown. Then somewhere between childhood innocence and adolescent anger, the feminist in me reared its ugly head and flatly refused to watch any of these so-called beauty contests. (Disclaimer: I still have interest in Miss Universe, as I find it fascinating to see all the beautiful people from all parts of the world.) So it came as no surprise that, last week, when a preview for this year’s competition appeared on TV, I laughed to myself and promised I wouldn’t watch—again. I also laughed because I saw that Chris Harrison (of The Bachelor fame) would be co-hosting. To be fair, I do watch The Bachelor/Bachelorette, even though we have a nickname for Chris (Hint: It starts with “P” and rhymes with “wimp”). But I digress. What did come as a surprise, however, was …