Biceps, butts _ and community spirit. HAZEL=20 FRIEDMAN finds out what makes Mr South Africa tick
`HI, honey [the sweetener is optional]. Love your=20 pectorals. You must be a Taurus.” It may not be=20 the ideal opening gambit, but what else can you say=20 when you’re interviewing a hunk with wall-to-wall=20 muscles, whose baby blues (or greens or browns)=20 seem to beg “please, please love me”, and who=20 happens to be just one in a line-up of 10 hunks=20 competing for the title of Mr South Africa? You=20 can’t ask questions like: “When did you first=20 realise you were beauty-contest material?” or “What=20 are your views on swimsuit parades?”
You can’t even ask the guys for the telephone=20 numbers of their personal trainers, because most of=20 them are personal trainers _ that is, when they’re=20 not grooming themselves for ambassadorship, public=20 office or the Nobel Peace Prize.
But as “les boys” take the stage of the Standard=20 Bank Arena for the finals of Mr South Africa, I’m=20 too busy trying to survive the crush to worry about=20 interviewing techniques.
M-Net presenter Ashley Hayden _ a Rapunzel look- alike in her waist-length hair extensions _ is=20 comp=8Aring this Ampros-sponsored extravaganza that=20 brings together the pick of the testosterone team=20 from shopping centres around the country. She talks=20 about the plight of the Twilight Children, the=20 thrill of wearing a tiara for the first time and=20 the beefcake waiting in the wings. At this point,=20 hoardes of similarly tressed princesses, wearing=20 itsy-bitsy numbers you’d need a crowbar to remove,=20 start screaming with a frenzy usually reserved for=20 ladies’ night with the Chippendales.
There are some children from the Twilight Shelter=20 in the audience, courtesy of Mr South Africa 1994,=20 Paul Pume, who made homeless children his cause=20 c=82l=8Abre _ plus a spattering of men. For a second I=20 think I can spot some heavies wearing MOMA (Men=20 Opposing Male Abuse) T-shirts with “I love John=20 Loftus” emblazoned on the back. But the frenzy is=20 primarily (and primordially) female in origin and=20 it reaches crescendo levels as the contestants=20 alight the stage dressed as Batman, Chaka Zulu,=20 Lawrence of Arabia, Tarzan (who beats his chest and=20 performs a coffee-grinding ritual with Jane) and=20 the man with the golden gun who elicits an audible=20 “Oh James” from the audience.
But these men aren’t simply shoot-from-the-hipsters=20 specialising in the language of biceps, butts and=20 balls. Sure, they have smiles like satellite dishes=20 and cheekbones you could dive off. But at least you=20 don’t have to search for their brain cells with a=20 magnifying glass. They also sing, dance, perform=20 pyrotechnics and ride bikes onstage. And they love=20 their mothers.=20
What’s more, they seem to be having a good time=20 strutting, flexing and preening their stuff.=20 There’s none of the waxen Stepford Wives=20 expressions you find at female beauty pageants. You=20 also get the feeling the judges won’t need=20 bodyguards to escort them home after the pageant,=20 as was the case with a beauty contest held in=20 Greece in 1993, when the local village favourite=20 didn’t win.=20
But apart from the talent competition in which=20 Charl and Themba shine _ the former with an a=20 cappella song and a “white boy does the black=20 thing” dance routine, the latter with a reggae=20 number backed by the only woman onstage who does=20 more than serve as a male body-stocking _ there’s=20 little separating this beauty pageant from the=20 female version. The beaus perform similar dress=20 rituals _ although, unlike the babes, they don’t=20 seem to mind showing their bulges in their bathing=20 suits. And they don’t have to endure the indignity=20 of a score card out of 10.=20
They also aren’t in this for the prizes. Except=20 Christopher, that is, who, asked what the title=20 will do for his career, launches into an honest=20 exposition on the virtues of self-promotion.=20 Needless to say, he loses his audience and not even=20 the magic words “community”, “accountability” and=20 “transparency” can win them back. Audiences don’t=20 want honesty. They’re looking for sentiments so=20 squeaky clean you want to oil their joints.
TV presenter and fitness fundi Charl Coode wins the=20 title, with Craig Starkey and Ben Sehlohlo coming=20 in second and third.
I ask Starkey, who cycles, takes photographs, acts=20 and wants to make people happy, to name his=20 favourite role model. He mentions his mother. He=20 also talks eloquently about the responsibilities of=20 being runner-up, and the huge shoes he will be=20 forced to fill should Coode be unable to carry out=20 his duties.
The man with the big feet, Coode looks like a=20 Swedish surftrooper, his blue blazer matching his=20 eyes and golden sash shining as brightly as his=20 smile.
“I don’t think you should interview me now”, he=20 says. “Rather speak to me in a year’s time to see=20 whether I’ve fulfilled my promises.”
The ex-deputy head boy, talented songwriter, dancer=20 and motivational speaker talks about the need to=20 help heal families, to heal the nation. He wants to=20 be a positive role model and has already formulated=20 his own five-year plan of personal action. Coode=20 has tagged his title on to the cause of the=20 disabled. “It is very close to my heart because I=20 want to help motivate people.”
I ask him how much he expects to make in=20 endorsements over this year. “I’m not in it for the=20 prizes or the money. That was my motive in 1993=20 when I first entered the contest. That’s probably=20 why I didn’t win. Mr SA 1994 will tell you how=20 important community work is.”=20
Pume duly confirms this. “Obviously you make money=20 and give back to the community. You learn a lot,=20 you sacrifice some things, but ultimately you=20 emerge with a sense of having made a difference to=20 the community.”
But unless you count rising hormonal levels as a=20 form of community upliftment, most members of the=20 audience seemed to think Mr South Africa was about=20 something altogether different. Said a crowd of=20 nubile young things hovering around the stage: “For=20 us it’s all about blue eyes, big smiles, biceps and=20 butts.”