The Arcata Theater Lounge bubbled with unmitigated enthusiasm Saturday evening as those in attendance eagerly awaited the honoring of one of our unique county’s most hallowed bestowments. Who would be the 2015 Mr. Humboldt?
The third annual installment of the event, masterfully orchestrated by hosts Johanna Nagan and Andrew Goff, offered titillated onlookers a four-hour smorgasbord of uproarious and oft-distasteful comical banter, awkward white people dancing, exorbitant glitter-flinging and informative cattle wrangling amongst a throng of other peculiar antics purposed to win over the crowd and a panel of drunk random people claiming to be judges.
Beyond the bright lights, tested might and much-too-tight tights, the main purpose of the Mr. Humboldt competition is to raise money for a designated non-profit organization. This year’s event was to honor Hospice of Humboldt, the main beneficiary selected by reigning Mr. Humboldt John McClurg. In addition, each contestant chose an organization to receive any funds generated within the competition by that individual. The light-hearted occasion must be categorized as a success yet again, both for the good cause and source of entertainment.
The satirical male beauty pageant was comprised of question and answer, swimwear, talent and formalwear portions. Standout performances included a rousing rendition of the original song “Humboldt Bound” by contestant Bo Dirt, some slick Justin Timberlake-inspired dance moves by Mr. RazzleDazzle, a short digital video of a flying car created by Mr. Space Artist that would make Michael Bay soil himself with glee and a head-banging percussion performance from Mr. Humboldt runner-up Mr. Metal.
A participant myself, I operated under the guise Mr. Shakespeare, due to my love for poetry, though I will assuredly be more aptly remembered as Mr. Asshole in Tights. While I invested many man-hours into my presentation, from ensembles to script, my chances of victory were effectively thwarted by an admittedly off-color comment about a multi-millionaire, world-famous actresses’ teeth. Suffice it to say, I wore the Dunst cap the rest of the evening.
The excitement leading up to the show’s commencement was palpable, as participants and facilitators scuttled to and fro, appropriately affixing their props and outfits and thoughts in their head. Some chose to temper nerves through a treatment of alcohol, others paced to calm anxiety, some did both. I merely rested, wholly perplexed as to how I was going to keep my voice from cracking in front of a menagerie of hostile hooting and hollering honeys and homies. My main concern, however, was how to fit my rotund booty into a pair of tights clearly designed for a person of starkly contrasting dimensions.
The result, to which few could have beef, saw the title adorned upon Mr. Dairyman, easily the competition’s leader in crowd noise generated as he milked cheers all evening long. He steaked his claim early and often, moo-ving swiftly ahead of the rest of the herd.
There were also two ancillary awards handed out. Mr. 4YourPleasure, whose formalwear saw him brave ornate nipple-clasps, took home the inaugural Cougar Award, which, to this author’s knowledge, would indicate that the geriatric femmes in attendance were enthralled by his grace. I won Mr. Congeniality for allegedly collecting the most women’s undergarments heaved on stage, though I wasn’t even allowed to keep a single pair.
All contestants fought hard, displaying a remarkable degree of fortitude in exposing themselves and their art to the capacity crowd. Scaling the mountain of glory is an arduous task, one of dubious footholds and blind corners, but all 2015 entries fearlessly faced it admirably.
Best of all and most importantly, the efforts of all involved with the evening, from contestants to hosts to belligerent judges alike, were bred from a place of compassion for helping others. The Mr. Humboldt Pageant is a revealing affair, bringing people of beautifully varied ilk together on a single stage, properly exemplifying the diversity that makes Humboldt County such a divine community. Never have I felt such support in my entire life — from my family, from my friends and from those tights.