As the hours, weeks and years tick by, I often find myself looking back at my life and how it has played out so far. True, this exercise is very meaningless, as there’s nothing you can do about anything that ever happened to you.
Still, it’s fun to do a little mental masturbation at times, if for no other reason than to see some patterns in your life, tiny threads that have tied it all together.
For instance, I have always loved game shows, so much so, that I nearly tried out to be a Jeopardy contestant. As my friends all know, I can be pretty trivial at times. I know a little about a lot and a lot about a little, but rarely is it expressed in the form of a question.
I have loved game shows since I was a kid. I would watch them all, from the ribald Match Game to What’s My Line? I even went through my Price Is Right stage, back when Bob Barker was the MC.
I guess that’s why I see parts of my life in game show terms. I have, unwittingly, been a part of one game show or another for most of my adult life. No, I wasn’t playing Jeopardy or even Concentration. I guess you could say I played the Dating Game a lot, but never with much success. The same seems to be true of the Newlywed Game.
But Let’s Make a Deal? I’ve been on it more times than I can count, and always with less than stellar results.
It’s not that I don’t understand the game. After all, it’s pretty straight forward. Hold on to what you have or trade it in for what’s in the box Jay is holding or what’s behind the curtain lovely Carol Merrill is standing in front of. If you’re good enough at the game, you get to be in the final round, where you can win cash and valuable prizes.
The first time I played Let’s Make a Deal, I didn’t have much at stake. I had traded in living with my mom for living with Heather in a $250 a month apartment overlooking Renton. See? I told you I didn’t have much at stake. To top it all off I was very young and didn’t really understand all the rules. I found out the hard way that choosing the box that Jay was holding, the one with the other woman in it, was not a good decision. I not only lost the round, but the entire game.
Along with that, I lost a Schwinn Continental, a lovely stereo system, a cool case of faux weapons I built, a box of miscellaneous nuts and bolts that my father kept, and some valuable art; well, valuable to me.
I did, however, end up with a car in the deal, albeit a 1972 Pinto Wagon, loaded to the gills with everything I could stuff into it. Looking back, I think it was a ZONK!
I promised myself that the next time I played the game I would be smarter about it. This time I was up against Sharon, who thankfully, was one never to play games. In the pot this time on Let’s Make a Deal was a new house in Port Orchard, a hot tub, a new car, a business we ran together, some nice power tools and computers, and oh, my son.
I had this thing in the bag, I thought. But once again, I couldn’t resist putting it on on the line for the box that Jay was holding. Damn! Another other woman! My only consolation prize was a one-way vacation to Florida to live with a complete stranger.
Bad choice all around . Lost big time this time.
Well, third time’s a charm, I thought to myself. You can’t possibly lose three times on Let’s Make a Deal. I had nothing really to lose again, anyway. I was already down two cars, a house, a hot tub and some power tools. So why not roll the ol’ life dice again and see what happens.
Unfortunately, life had brought in a ringer this time. She not only knew all the rules, she made new ones up as she went along. The game was rigged from the get-go, only I didn’t know it.
Still, I gave it a shot. I even caught on to some of the rules over time. I had somehow managed to rack up some new prizes too, including a shiny new home, all the furnishings and an acre of land to call my own.
To my credit, I didn’t even fall for the girl in the box that Jay was holding this time. In fact, I turned a blind eye to every box that came my way. There was no way I was losing a vacation home in Florida along with another new car.
Well, there was a way. It turned out that weren’t on the Newlywed Game or even Let’s Make a Deal this time around. Completely unknown to me, I was now a contestant on a new show called Judge & Jury. Michelle was the Judge and Jury, I was its only daily contestant.
I would find myself on the show without warning. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a line of questions would be asked about things that happlened weeks, months or even years ago. I had moments to answer. I was always wrong. I thought it was all in the past. But now, Judge & Jury would regularly bring it all up again. It was kind of like being on a twisted version of This is Your Life where every bad thing is you ever did is brought up The only thing missing was my kindergarten teacher walking in to our home to remind the members of the audience of the time I ate paste.
Long story short. I lost. I lost another house (yes, two). Acreage. A car. The new car. The brand new miter saw I had just bought to replace the one I lost previously, and… and…
As a consolation prize, I ended up with a one-way trip back to Seattle, which really was the best thing I’ve ever won. I ended up with a new car and a new house there. And best of all, a lovely new wife who doesn’t know what it’s like to play games.
I almost forgot. I ended up with a 2004 Saturn VUE in the deal. It belonged to the host of Judge & Jury.
Originally, I thought it was just another ZONK! But it’s been a pretty good consolation prize too. But its days are numbered. It’s the last memory of my game show years, which now are but a distant past. Thankfully, my game show days are over.
So, you just never know. One day soon I may be doing my best Jay impression, pointing to what’s behind Curtain #3 and see if there are any takers. Hopefully it won’t be a a ZONK?
In the Emerald City, sewing a car-sized curtain like a madman,
- Robb