Damn those Beach Boys. I was that close!
It all started a few months ago, when I started trying out for "Who Wants to be a Millionaire." You know the show -- it's the one where Regis Philbin asks odd-looking, random Americans various questions while he pretends that he actually likes them.
I enjoy the show -- especially when Regis looks constipated as he tries to bluff contestants into thinking they gave an incorrect answer -- and I decided, what the hell, why not try out? I am odd-looking and random. So I called.
When you call the toll-free number, you're given a series of three questions increasing in difficulty. For each question, you have to put four answers in a certain order by pushing numbers on the telephone. If you miss one question, you're out, and you can't try again until the next day.
The first question is ridiculously easy. The second question, however, is tougher, and the third one is usually a doozy.
Over the past few months, I've the contest phone lines were open, if it occurred to me. About a quarter of the time, I actually got all three of the questions right. When this happens, you give the computer a phone number where you can be reached the next day. Then, they pick a small number of people at random to advance to the second-round, and call them up. But I never received a phone call.
That is, until about 10 days ago.
I was at work, minding my own business, when the phone rang. I picked up -- and it was a guy from "Who Wants to be a Millionaire."
The polite man asked all sorts of questions to make sure I was eligible to be on the show. He then gave me some information, asked me what airport was nearest to me, told me to think about who I'd use for my phone-a-friend lifeline, etc. I was given a special phone number and PIN number, and told to call at a certain time on April 10 for the second-round playoff.
I was shocked. I mean, someone from the show was actually asking me to think about my lifelines. I had a chance. I was a contender!
For the next 9 days or so, I thought about my lifelines. I debated who I'd take to New York with me. I wondered what I'd do during the part of the show where they show all the contestants, who generally all wave and look completely foolish.
Reading the rules, I figured out that about 200 people would be calling in for the second-round playoff, and that 10 would make it. That's a 5 percent chance.
Anyway, yesterday finally came. I called in when I was supposed to. My task: answer five questions in increasing difficulty (except you keep going if you miss one, and they don't say if you miss). You have 10 seconds for each question. They then draw 10 people from all the people who get the five questions correct to appear on the show.
The first question, like normal, was a no-brainer. Put these words in order to form a phrase having to do with Ripley. Not. It. Or. Believe.
Duh!
The second wasn't too bad. Put these authors in the order that they published their first book, starting with the most recent. Hemingway. Grisham. Salinger. Dickens. Tougher, but doable.
The third question was a toughie, but also manageable. Put these diet beverages in the order they were introduced. Fresca. Diet Coke. Pepsi One. Tab. Challenging, but I think I got it right.
However, it was the fourth one that doomed me for sure. Put these groups in the order that they're mentioned in the Beach Boys song, "California Girls." Midwest Farm Girls. East Coast Girls. Southern Girls. Northern Girls.
With only 10 seconds, I couldn't play that part of the song fast enough in my head. I pushed four random numbers. I missed it! Ugh!
I answered the fifth question -- an easy one about natural disaster orders -- and gave the number where I could be reached at later in the day. But I knew it was over. I knew there would not be a phone call inviting me to New York. The blasted Beach Boys had ruined it for me.
At least, for now. I'll be back on the phone when the phone lines re-open. And I'll beat the odds again. One day, I will be on that show -- and Regis will have to pretend that he likes me.
Jimmy Boegle, a fifth-generation Nevadan, says this column is his final answer, but that he'll be back next week. His column appears here Tuesdays, and an archive of his columns may be viewed at http://geocities.datacellar.net/jiboegle/columns.html.