Bob

Batz

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July 12, 2008

Who Wants To Be a Hundredaire?

I have this recurring dream, see.

I’m a contestant on the hit TV series Who Wants to be a Millionaire? and I’m sitting on the stage with Meredith Vieira, the show’s host, who has just introduced me to the audience.

“Tell us a little about yourself, Bob,” Meredith says.

“Well,” I reply, my voice quaking because I’m sitting there in front of a national television audience. “I was born in Flint, Michigan, I’m a Sagittarius, I dislike lima beans, grumpy people, February and . . .”

“That’s wonderful, Bob,” Meredith says, cutting me off in mid-sentence. “Who have you brought with you tonight?”

“I’ve brought my lovely wife Sally,” I say as the camera pans the audience and pauses on Sally’s smiling face.

Then it’s Meredith’s turn to smile as she asks me, “Well, Bob, are you ready to win some money?”

“You bet, Meredith,” I reply enthusiastically, and then she says “Here is your first question. For $100, Bob, what is the legal name of the jolly old elf who delivers toys to good girls and boys all over the world on Christmas Eve? Is it Dwight D. Eisenhower, Ernest Hemingway, Soupy Sales or Kris Kringle.”

“That,” I quickly declare, “would be Kris Kringle.”

The audience goes bonkers and Meredith flashes a big grin in my general direction and says “Allllll right, Bob, you’re on your way to fabulous riches. Are you ready for the next question?”

“Fire away,” I reply.

“For $200, what state is known as the . . .”

That’s when I suddenly cut her off in mid-sentence.

“I’ve decided to stop right here, Meredith,” I say.

She’s totally shocked. “I beg your pardon?” she asks.

“I’m quitting with $100,” I tell her. “I mean, $100 is a lot of money, ya’know.”

She’s clearly puzzled by my words. Finally, after regaining her composure, she says, “But Bob, you still have all three of your lifelines left. If you don’t know an answer, you can ask the audience, phone a friend or . . .”

I silence her with a smile and a wave of my hand. “I know that, but I really don’t want to risk it,” I say. “If I decide to ask the audience and the audience gives me an answer and it is correct, then I might say ‘That’s what I thought it was’ like so many other show guests do and I’ve always thought that was really dumb.

“As for phoning a friend, well, I have lots of friends all right, but I don’t feel comfortable putting pressure on them because if one of my friends would give the wrong answer, he or she would feel really lousy and I don’t believe anyone should do that to a friend. Besides, there’s a real good chance the line would be busy, or my friend would be on vacation.

“As for my option of switching the question, if I don’t know the really easy first question I decide to switch from, I probably won’t know the really easy second one, either.”

I pause, then add, “No, Meredith, I’m tickled pink with winning $100. Even if I did advance in the game, at some point you’d probably ask me something about algebra, or science or world history, and I was terrible at all three of those subjects in grade school, high school and college.”

After another brief pause, I reach out, offer Meredith my hands to squeeze and say, “No, Meredith, I don’t want to get myself into any of those situations. I’m perfectly happy to walk away with $100, which almost covers my cab fare from my hotel to the show.”

Contact Bob at bbatz@woh.rr.com

© 2008 North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.

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