What is the best party story ever?

I think everyone loves Jeopardy, whether they freely admit it or not. There is something lovable about Alex Trebek and his feigned sympathy when somebody confuses Hirohito and Akihito. Everybody feels the same way about the inane stories people tell in the middle of the Jeopardy round, mostly how much more interesting we are than the people on the show and their stories about their cats and proposing to their wives at football games. Last week, I drove to Savannah to try out for the chance to tell my inane cat stories to millions of people all over the country, right before or after Wheel of Fortune.

It all started about eight months ago when America’s favorite quiz show put out its annual online online qualifying test. I had been waiting on this moment for a long time; probably since the very first time I heard the category title “Potent Potables.” This would be my time to shine.

Before the 8:00 pm start time, the 50 question exam could he about anything, from Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” to the reign of Tiberius Caesar or this year’s Best Picture winner. I do not remember a lot of the details, and since they kept most of the details hush-hush, they kept my score a secret. It reminded me a lot of “the permanent record” that teachers kept in elementary school. They also tell you that there is an element of randomness involved, I assume to keep your ego in check enough not to go around to your friends and discuss how you knocked the test out of the park. You cannot get on the show with out a little luck. In fact, you cannot even make it past the first cut.

Last month, though, I got word back. After eight months of waiting on pins and needles, I got an e-mail telling me to arrive at a hotel in Savannah. The only warning, the only preparation really, they offered me was to arrive prepared for a written exam, a personality interview, and a mock Jeopardy round. I expected the written exam to be a lot like the online test, and it was, and I had seen enough of the show to kind of know what to expect from a simulated game, but personality interview? What does that even mean? Do they have a personality type in mind? Are they worried I am going to arrive in an oversized hat? It is television, after all, and you never really know what it is they are thinking. They could be thinking something like, “His head will look huge on camera.” Oh they did have one more suggestion that I forgot: have fun!

When I got there, they gave us a little history of the show and explained how the trick is as much about timing as it is about knowing the answers to Alex’s Questions. Or questions to his answers. Or whatever.

The written exam was another 50 questions with eight seconds for each. It was just as tense as it sounds, since the questions about opera are just as hard in Savannah as they are from your couch. After it was over, the discussion was just like the ones that happen after tests in school or a after a poker game: obnoxious. I do not care if you knew who created Daisy Buchanan, this is competition. This is deathmatch. This is Thunderdome.

The next step was the mock game and the personality interview (they happened together). They ask you about your inane cat stories and your job and what you would do with the money. The trick, though, was that they did it at a rapid, television pace to catch the unwitting civilians off guard. Everyone did ok, unfortunately. The herd was not thinned that much at this stage.

They insisted that the mock round would not be “graded,” but I am a little skeptical. I think it was an effort to try to diffuse the nervousness, and every wrong answer was really black mark on our secret Jeopardy permanent record. It is a bit intimidating, there’s a lot to think about: wait for the question to be read completely, think of the right answer, buzz in, answer loud, smile, and please oh please do not forget to answer in the form of a question. This is all while you are standing in front of the other Jeopardy gladiators. One question sticks out in my mind – to which dynasty did Mary, Queen of Scots belong? I knew the answer, and kept saying in my head, “It’s Stuart, do not say Tudor.” Yet, invariably, I buzzed in and said, “What is Tudor?” Wrong. That is a black mark on my Jeopardy record forever, I just know it. I did get other questions right, but Mary, Queen of Scots will haunt my dreams.

They told us that they keep us on file for eighteen months. So, anytime between next week and a year and a half from now, I might get a phone call (hopefully from Alex himself) saying, “Mr. Hathway, we need you in Los Angeles right away.” Then I can start bragging to my friends about how I knocked the Jeopardy tests out of the park, and hopefully, will not fall on my face on television after doing so. Luckily for you guys, though, I do not have any cats.

Jeopardy! is strange sometimes

I am watching Jeopardy! right now. I like to include the exclamation point when I write it, because it makes me chuckle. If you happen to be watching it, or saw it last night, the winner might be the creepiest kid I've ever seen on television. And really, Jeopardy! often has it's share of folks with whom you probably wouldn't want to share a conversation and an ice cream. I have mixed opinions about this, because I never want to see this person again, but I also want everyone I know to get the chance to see this train wreck.

I was trying to convince somebody to turn on the program in order to look at this kid. The problem, though, is that Jeopardy! isn't always on at the same time, depending on where you live. Some places it's on at 7, others at 7:30. But that's pretty much it. Why do you suppose that is? Interestingly enough, my apartment gets the show at both times because we get the HD feed of ABC from New York. My roommate and I got to watch the political ads in the NJ race that re-elected a senator who was implied to be connected to the mafia. I hope that's couched in enough legalese that in case this blog ever gets popular, I don't want to be sued -- I don't know if he actually was, but the ad implied it, and really, he's in New Jersey, so come on.

None of this explains why local ABC affiliates haven't been able to coordinate and settle on a universal time for Jeopardy! and its bastard cousin, Wheel of Fortune. Really, I'd think that a show named after a Tarot card would be pretty cool. Wouldn't you watch a show called the Hanged Man? I know I would. This does allow for the possibility of a Jeopardy! racket where you can bet your friends and take their money. I could see a scene like in the movie Rounders where the protagonist walks into a darkened and seedy suburban media room and has to prove that he has an envelope full of cash and agrees to the house rules as to whether they have to say "What is" before calling out the answer.

*Good news, everybody -- Andrew won again. I encourage all of you to tune in tomorrow night, whether it's 7 or 7:30, and see this guy. I'm not sure if I can explain what it is exactly that makes me so uneasy to watch him on tv, but I am confident that you'll recognize it immediately when you see him. Also, somebody get him a suit that fits right.

Television strategizes poorly

There are only two nights of television that I care to actually watch, and I usually end up missing both of them. And, evidently, I'm the only person on the planet who doesn't have a TiVo at my beck and call. When I'm a rich engineer, I guess I'm going to need to get one; but I'm going to be in a strange place so I'll probably end up (at least for a while) not knowing anybody and having plenty of time on my hands to watch it in real time. It's a Catch-22.

Anyway, tonight, I am going to miss the Monday night programming I enjoy (and the rematch of the first ever three way tie on Jeopardy!), notably, How I Met Your Mother since I they took Studio 60 off the air. Apparently, I was the only person who actually watched it. I am missing tv tonight because Clemson is playing in the second NIT game tonight against Ole Miss. It'll be on ESPN tonight at 7, and you'll probably be able to see me, since if it's anything like the last game, I'll be able to practically sit on the bench with the team. For those of you who don't know, the NIT is like a consolation bracket for the teams who don't make the Big Dance; it's so meaningless that people don't even gamble on it.

Thursday's the other night that I miss. I'm usually busy on Thursday nights, and every good show is on that night. All of them. I guess people are afraid of Lost and CSI and Grey's Anatomy, so everything else lands on Thursday. Ridiculous. Is Desperate Housewives still around? I still can't figure out how Teri Hatcher looks better now than she did 10 years ago. Regardless, go Tigers!

I wonder if she could play tennis... in the Labyrinth

A few things kind of clicked for me today as I was watching Dark City. This epiphany probably isn't going to be what you're thinking, unless you're thinking Jennifer Connelly. In that movie (released in 1998) it made me think that when she is at her prime, there probably isn't an actress in Hollywood better looking than her. Then I was reminded of a discussion of Anna Kournikova I had while watching the Duke basketball game (¡desastre!) and how it seemed absurd how she's one of the most famous tennis players of the past decade and she sucks at tennis. But we all know her because she's gorgeous. And in case you don't, here are pictures.


Life is just easier for people who are that good looking. I think on some level, average looking people hate them for it. Then again, you want to root for the pretty ones, too. It's a weird duality of opinions that's hard to explain. Think about it -- when you watch a movie or a sporting event or something, if you have no other rooting interest, you'll cheer for the prettier, won't you? I do that with Jeopardy sometimes. I either want the prettiest girl or the person with the coolest voice to win. And if a hot chick (well, Jeopardy hot) is up against a heavy black guy from Alabama with a really deep voice, I'm a little conflicted; tie goes to the female.

Think about the Patriots. In 2001, they were the underdogs, so we kind of wanted them to win. They continued their workmanlike approach to building a football program, and it worked. Good coaching, discipline and focus on teamwork led to success. They would, of course,won two of the next three, now most folks are tired of them. (By the way, the Super Bowl in that stretch that the Pats didn't win was won by The Tampa Bay Buccaneers. I will also be cheering for Indy on Sunday, in case you wanted that information.) Also, Bill Belichick dresses like a hobo.

When you see beautiful women getting to cut in line or discounts or something, doesn't it bother you a little bit? But if you were in a position to give it to them, would you? (If you are a lady reading this, just make the appropriate gender substitutions yourself.) You'd at least think about it. It doesn't seem fair, really. But I think that's just something that ugly people say.

I'll Take Anal-Retentive for $800, Alex

I watch Jeopardy! when I can. I really think it may be the source of my powers. Right now is the Tournament of Champions, which is the purest, single barrel version of Jeopardy!, unlike the pissant teen and celebrity tournaments where it feels like Jeopardy! is trying to make the retards who watch Deal or No Deal feel educated.

I have been watching the show for a while, so I have seen a lot of things. I have seen Alex go from mustached to not, I have seen the failed attempt at Super Jeopardy!, I have seen the studio redesign and the doubling of the question values. Throughout all of those times, though, it never fails to make me crazy when contestants start in the middle of a category. What purpose is there in choosing the second smallest entry? Start small and build your momentum as you work your way down, or if time is short, grab the biggest dollar amount available. Take the third largest, and you're just cluttering the question board. They should screen for people like that, because I can't be the only one that gets bothered by that.