For the past five years I have celebrated Aug. 26, the anniversary of the passage of women's suffrage, in my own kinky way. I have handed out awards to people for notable achievements in their fight against equality, harmony, peace and justice between the sexes.
Until now, I have called this the Annual Life Isn't Fair Awards. This year, however, in commemoration of the defeat of the ERA, I have decided to rename this event. Henceforth, by popular demand, these coveted prizes will be known as the Equal Rites Awards. But enough of all this chatter when you are waiting breathlessly for the results.
The envelopes, please.
The first award always goes, by protocol, to the president of the United States, a man who believes in the E and the R but not the A. To him, for reasons too numerous to list, we send a hard-earned satin scarlet "A" for Affirmative re-Action.
But in all fairness, he must give up the Pig-male-ion of the Year Award, to be shared by those dozen state legislators in Florida, Illinois and North Carolina who defeated ERA, proving again that a majority does not always rule. To them, we send individual ballot boxes . . . empty.
The Knight in Shining Armor Prize for gallantry this year goes to another president, J. Terryl Bechtol of the Jaycees, who is purging his organization of the women members it had previously wooed. This award is inscribed with his chivalrous remark at a Jaycee meeting: "Would the woman please leave. I can't teach leadership to a woman."
The Blind Justice Award was, as always, hotly contested. But in the end, we decided to send this statue to Judge William Reinecke of Grant County, Wis., for describing a 5-year-old rape victim as "an unusually sexually promiscuous young lady."
In the same spirit of understanding, the Rape Crisis Center Citation for laboring hardest to improve business goes to the ever-charming songwriter Malcolm McLaren for penning that touching sentiment: "I love it when he says so seriously with his gun in my back, honey make love to me . . ." This award comes with whips and chains inscribed: "He asked for it."
The Looking Down on Your Man Prize, for extraordinary service in condescension to the other sex, goes to pop psychologist Joyce Brothers for her advice: "We must cherish the men in our lives. They are fragile. They are sad. They are vulnerable. And they need us. God bless them . . ."
In an unusual move, however, this judge decided to award honorable mention in the same category to Midge Decter, who explained the reason why men support women's issues: "Men are lying. They've been brainwashed."
The G-String Award for Gratuitous Sex, which has gone in previous years to assorted X-rated films about nymphomaniac nurses- stewardess-coeds, goes this year with regrets to an otherwise fine movie, "Rich and Famous," for one bizarre scene of quickie sex in the airplane lav. Talk about your fear of flying. . . .
The Designer Genes Prize--a solid gold chain of DNA--goes to the California sperm bank which showed once again its faith in the dominant male by mating its Nobel sperm with an ex-con egg.
The Real Women Don't Eat Crow Prize goes to Nancy Kissinger, with honest admiration, for bopping the creepy lady who stopped her Henry in the Newark airport to ask him about his sexual predilections. This award is a lead pocketbook suitable for defending hubbies' honor.
The Subtlety in Advertising Award, complete with sledgehammer, goes to a boot manufacturer for the photographs of a woman straddling and stripping her man's cowboy boot, boasting: "Treat Em Good and They'll Treat You Good."
The My Kind of Guy Prize, usually a cliffhanger, was won hands down by Sen. Jeremiah Denton (R-Ala.) for his explanation of why working women destroy marriages: "The guy likes to come home and get supper and a couple of martinis from a woman that is reasonably rested." His award is the chance to stay home with two preschoolers for an average 16- hour day.
The Raging Hormonal Imbalance Prize goes overseas this year to the British lawyers who successfully defended two women on murder and attempted murder charges by pleading that premenstrual tension made them do it. To them we send a lunar calendar.
Finally, the Sweetheart of the Gosh-We-Wish-They-Were-Silent-Majority medal goes again to Phyllis Schlafly. Since this is the third straight year she's won this loving cup, we feel that it is time to retire the cup and, please, Phyllis.