Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?
I don't watch a lot of television, especially in the off season. But yesterday morning I was home for a while, and my wife had the thing on. She was off doing something else somewhere else in the house, and I was the one that got distracted by the morning version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?
Because I teach a night class on Thursdays this semester, I'd done my exercising in the morning and was trying to get ready to leave for the office. As I was getting out of the shower and such, I could hear the dramatic music that the show is famous for, could picture the setting and the lighting, just as famous as the music. But one time passing through the living room, I was caught by the exciting moment when a new player is selected.
Now, as I recall from the show's big primetime splash a few years back, players were prescreened through some kind of telephone system. Hopefuls had to call in and answer a certain number of questions in a certain length of time to see if they were up to a shot at the big chair across from Regis. But success on the telephone didn't guarantee their shot. If they got on the show they had to compete with others in some kind of flash round, the winner of which got the chair and the chance at $1,000,000--the number is even exciting to type!
Yesterday's selection was different. I don't know if it was a one-time deal or not, but if it wasn't, it should have been. Apparently the audience had numbered bracelets, and Meredith, the show's host these days, read out the randomly selected number. The young woman wearing that number stood and screamed and jumped and screamed, and I remember thinking to myself, 'This ain't The Price Is Right, lady.' (My next thought should have been to turn off the TV, but I was captured--for a few moments at least.) Keep in mind that unless the entire audience had been prescreened as potential players, no prescreening was done for this group. Although I didn't see the end of this woman's session, I can't imagine that it ended well.
Like all other contestants, she was to be asked a series of questions that could potentially lead to her winning--here we go again--$1,000,000. Along the way, she had the safety net of three "lifelines" to use in case she got stuck on a question and needed help. These lifelines are as follows: poll the audience, 50/50 (when two of the wrong answers are removed, leaving one wrong answer and the right one) and phone a friend.
Meredith asked her if she was familiar with the game. The contestant said that she certainly was, that she watched at home, that she pretended to be on the show and practiced her "Final answer" in the mirror, that her answers were usually right. And so, Meredith proceeded.
The first question, the $100 question (not nearly as fun to write as the earlier number) asked what document in American history had the date July 4, 1776 at the top. "The Declaration of Independence," the woman said. "Final answer."
The second question, for $200, I think, asked about a kitchen timer that usually had three or five minutes on it. The only two choices I can remember at the moment were "egg timer" and "toast timer." I wasn't under the pressure of the audience and the lights and the cameras, but it seemed pretty obvious to me that the answer was "egg timer." The contestant, however, used her first lifeline and polled the audience, 95% of whom answered "egg timer."
The third question, for $300, I think, asked what kind of shoe is 25 inches long and at least 12 inches wide. I remember three of the four choices: "ice skates," "galoshes" and "snow shoes." Given the description, the answer seemed obvious, but to my surprise she used another lifeline--the 50/50. This left two options--"galoshes" and "snow shoes." 'Surely to goodness,' I thought, and then stood stunned as she used her last lifeline to phone a friend, her father Willie. When he came on the line and his daughter was getting ready to ask him this question, I could stand it no longer and, with a grimace, turned off the television. Even if her father helped her with that question--without saying something mean to her for calling about something like that--I can't imagine that she lasted through the $500 or $1,000 questions. I hope she did. I tell myself to be fair; she came from Florida and so maybe didn't know what galoshes or snow shoes are. Maybe.
Just maybe.
241.8 NWT
Because I teach a night class on Thursdays this semester, I'd done my exercising in the morning and was trying to get ready to leave for the office. As I was getting out of the shower and such, I could hear the dramatic music that the show is famous for, could picture the setting and the lighting, just as famous as the music. But one time passing through the living room, I was caught by the exciting moment when a new player is selected.
Now, as I recall from the show's big primetime splash a few years back, players were prescreened through some kind of telephone system. Hopefuls had to call in and answer a certain number of questions in a certain length of time to see if they were up to a shot at the big chair across from Regis. But success on the telephone didn't guarantee their shot. If they got on the show they had to compete with others in some kind of flash round, the winner of which got the chair and the chance at $1,000,000--the number is even exciting to type!
Yesterday's selection was different. I don't know if it was a one-time deal or not, but if it wasn't, it should have been. Apparently the audience had numbered bracelets, and Meredith, the show's host these days, read out the randomly selected number. The young woman wearing that number stood and screamed and jumped and screamed, and I remember thinking to myself, 'This ain't The Price Is Right, lady.' (My next thought should have been to turn off the TV, but I was captured--for a few moments at least.) Keep in mind that unless the entire audience had been prescreened as potential players, no prescreening was done for this group. Although I didn't see the end of this woman's session, I can't imagine that it ended well.
Like all other contestants, she was to be asked a series of questions that could potentially lead to her winning--here we go again--$1,000,000. Along the way, she had the safety net of three "lifelines" to use in case she got stuck on a question and needed help. These lifelines are as follows: poll the audience, 50/50 (when two of the wrong answers are removed, leaving one wrong answer and the right one) and phone a friend.
Meredith asked her if she was familiar with the game. The contestant said that she certainly was, that she watched at home, that she pretended to be on the show and practiced her "Final answer" in the mirror, that her answers were usually right. And so, Meredith proceeded.
The first question, the $100 question (not nearly as fun to write as the earlier number) asked what document in American history had the date July 4, 1776 at the top. "The Declaration of Independence," the woman said. "Final answer."
The second question, for $200, I think, asked about a kitchen timer that usually had three or five minutes on it. The only two choices I can remember at the moment were "egg timer" and "toast timer." I wasn't under the pressure of the audience and the lights and the cameras, but it seemed pretty obvious to me that the answer was "egg timer." The contestant, however, used her first lifeline and polled the audience, 95% of whom answered "egg timer."
The third question, for $300, I think, asked what kind of shoe is 25 inches long and at least 12 inches wide. I remember three of the four choices: "ice skates," "galoshes" and "snow shoes." Given the description, the answer seemed obvious, but to my surprise she used another lifeline--the 50/50. This left two options--"galoshes" and "snow shoes." 'Surely to goodness,' I thought, and then stood stunned as she used her last lifeline to phone a friend, her father Willie. When he came on the line and his daughter was getting ready to ask him this question, I could stand it no longer and, with a grimace, turned off the television. Even if her father helped her with that question--without saying something mean to her for calling about something like that--I can't imagine that she lasted through the $500 or $1,000 questions. I hope she did. I tell myself to be fair; she came from Florida and so maybe didn't know what galoshes or snow shoes are. Maybe.
Just maybe.
241.8 NWT
posted by mac | 6:48 AM
5 Comments:
You have to remember Michael that have a PhD puts you in a really small, I mean really small, percentage of the population...
a quote from Google: A Doctor of Philosophy degree, abbreviated Ph.D., is the highest academic degree anyone can earn. Because earning a Ph.D. requires extended study and intense intellectual effort, less than one percent of the population attains the degree. Society shows respect for a person who holds a Ph.D. by addressing them with the title ``Doctor''.
To earn a Ph.D., one must accomplish two things. First, one must master a specific subject completely. Second, one must extend the body of knowledge about that subject.
Well, John, I hadn't really thought about it like that. That is a cool point of view!
But I just wanted so badly for her to know what an egg timer was and that a shoe 25" long and 12" wide had to be a snow shoe. I hope that I was feeling more anxiety for her than I was feeling offended that she didn't know these answers.
That just makes you a great teacher Michael. I wished you had been my teacher, I might have wanted to learned something.
Those questions are so simple even our president could answer them.
Roz, Don't bet on it, there were/are some questions about his grades!!!
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