How I took 30 years to accomplish something

OK; got the first post up. Where to now, muse?

Right now I'm undecided whether to go down the autobiographical fiction path (Little Women; Tree Grows in Brooklyn) or do first-person essays. Why would anyone want to read about my life? It's been pretty unexciting; I haven't accomplished anything impressive.

Most impressive thing about me: I was a winner on JEOPARDY! Only one day, but still I was a champion. That was the achievement of a childhood goal. I started watching JEOPARDY when I was ten years old (the original version, with Art Fleming) and would play along with the contestants. I'd keep track of my score and would generally do as well as the players on the show. Back then there was no Kids Week or Teen or College Tournament, so I had to wait until I turned 18 to apply for the show. This was the perfect format for me; all sorts of "useless" knowledge that my brain could access speedily. As soon as I reached the eligible age, I wrote in to apply. In those days, the show was filmed in New York and it was a short subway ride to the offices in Rockefeller Center where I was directed to report. It was a small reception room, sort of like the waiting room at a dentist's office and there was one other woman testing that day. An extremely attractive blonde woman, maybe in her late 20s. She looked like she might be an actress.

Things were very low-tech then. The questions were projected on a small screen as we hurriedly wrote down our answers. Our papers weren't graded afterwards and we were just told we'd be informed -- "don't call us; we'll call you". A few weeks later I got a notification of my rejection in the mail. I was crushed.

The show was canceled a year or two later and it seemed as if that dream had died.

A few years later a new version of JEOPARDY came on the air, but it was filmed in California. The logistics made that seem impossible. Then they started having annual testing sessions around the country and the one nearest to me was in Atlantic City. I decided to make the trek and give it a shot. It's a three hour bus ride but I was pleasantly surprised to have my fare refunded on arrival at one of the hotels. Seems they wanted to encourage people to GAMBLE at the casinos. I dropped about $2 in quarters in a slot machine, got some of it back and decided I'd had enough of that. I had a mission to complete. The contestant coordinators were processing hundreds of applicants a day. The first step was a quick ten question test to weed out the real contenders from the masses of wanna-bes. Every two hours they'd call out the names of those that passed (in the meantime, you could pass the time at the casino...). I lucked out and arrived in time for the last test before the announcements. The questions were the sort that typically came up on the show and I breezed through most of them. The one that stumped me was "a rope-soled shoe". I had no idea. Ten minutes later they called out the names and when I heard my named I yelped and jumped up to raise my hand.

That was the FIRST hurdle. The next step was the full 50 question test. Which they would give a month later. We were given appointments for the next stage in our journeys. I stopped off at a shop to buy some salt water taffy and got on a return bus, about an hour after my arrival.

One month later: back to AC; another bus refund and on to the hotel ballroom for the Big Test. I looked around at my fellow would-be contestants and noted that about 90% were male. Practically everybody was white and mostly middle-aged. The test was more like watching the show on TV, with questions being read aloud on monitors. The first dozen questions were pretty easy and I felt like I'd breeze through. Then I started hitting some toughies -- categories like "Heraldry" and by the end I wasn't as confident but I thought I'd passed. When the time came to read the names aloud I waited in vain to hear my own.

So I walked along the boardwalk, bought some more salt water taffy and sulked a bit. Back to the bus and home to New York.

A year later, another contestant search in Atlantic City was announced. I decided to try again. Passed the ten question test again and was given another return appointment. I thought this part was easy, but I ran into a man I knew from one of the local G&S groups. A chorister whose car had the vanity plate "TENOR". Turned out he was spending a couple of days in AC to keep taking the test (you were allowed to take it once a day). He was a longtime fan of the show and had yet to pass the 10 question test after numerous attempts.

My return trip turned out to be more of a project than I had originally expected. My appointment was for 9:00 AM but there were no buses that left NYC that arrived that early. I would have to come in the night before and stay overnight. I found a cheap motel and booked a room. Images of "Psycho" flashed through my mind as I settled in. I watched some TV while doing some last minute cramming with the World Almanac. I wasn't going to get stumped on the capital of Afghanistan this time!

The next morning I was back in the ballroom, ready to take the test one more time. It was tough and by the end I had no illusions that I would be a shoe-in. After waiting for them to process the papers I listened, again hoping to hear my name. And this time it came! Of those testing, maybe a quarter passed. Finally on to the last phase -- the interviews.

We were told to come back after lunch (go gamble in the casino, folks....) when it would be time to display our personalities. I spent the break stocking up on salt water taffy, dropping a couple of quarters in a slot machine and then back to the ballroom. We were given more paperwork to fill out including a list of interview topics. Five items that Alex could question us about during the interview portion of the show. I knew ahead of time to prepare something:

1. I once sang all of the Gilbert & Sullivan operas in one day (the first Rockville Sing-Out)

2. I once mistook Isaac Stern for a hotel concierge

3. I once helped NYC Mayor Rudy Giuliani find the Messiah

(I forget what my other two were. Maybe involving my other brushes with Celebrity -- Dr. Ruth Westheimer and Isaac Asimov)

The coordinators chatted with each prospect and then had us come to the front of the room for a little bit of mock gameplay. They'd show questions and we'd buzz in. We weren't being graded for our answers here; they knew we were smart after passing through the testing hurdles. It was to see how quickly we reacted and how intensely. One man mentioned he'd passed five times and had never been called, but his low-key, lethargic demeanor probably kept him out each time.

At the end of the session there were no more announcements of who'd passed or failed. We were all on "the list" and may or may not be called during the coming year.

(End part one)