That Sucking Sound

 I've told the story of Waldo's ignominious fall from trivia grace here before. The captain of our Trivia Bowl Team, Renegade Poodles From Hell, once felt enough of his accumulated knowledge that he took it to the small screen. Tic Tac Dough, hosted by Wink Martindale, to be precise. Someone with a working knowledge of every Star Trek episode ever shot and "all that hippie music" plus the attendant ingrained experience of most baby boomers, he felt comfortable with his chances. 

He hadn't counted on what effect the lights and cameras and all that Wink might have on his concentration. He lost in the first round. He brought back a compact vacuum cleaner as his lovely parting gift. It was not the glorious feat we had all imagined when he packed his bags for his trip to Hollywood. Quite the opposite. That vacuum sat in the back room of the Arby's at which we worked until it was consumed by the greasy polyester tunics worn by the minions of roast beef. 

Which is why, when a colleague of mine suggested that I should try out for Wheel of Fortune, I flinched. I understand that Wheel, of the two half hours of game show programming that seem to be inexorably linked, is the easier of the two. Jeopardy is hard. Wheel of Fortune is Hangman with a giant circle of possible wealth. It's easy. 

And then I think of Waldo. I think about that vacuum, and how I don't really need a vacuum and how much I would resent any vacuum that came my way as a byproduct of being less than stellar at Hollywood Hangman. 

Pat Sajak. He has won the Daytime Emmy Award for Outstanding Game Show Host. Three times. Who wouldn't be intimidated by that? I might just crumble before I ever even got a chance to buy a vowel. It's not like Wheel of Fortune is beneath me. Quite the contrary. It's an institution. I would be eating solidly into my fifteen minutes of fame, and those grapes were probably sour anyway.

And I really don't know what I would do with another vacuum.