Playing the Game

It was one of those oh-so-rare lazy Saturday afternoons  at home with nowhere to go and a clean-enough house.   I pounced on the opportunity to catch up on some much needed organization of my computer apps and files while watching mindless television.

The mindless television pickings were especially slim.  Then I found a whole day worth of Family Feud scheduled on the Game Show Network.  I have always liked watching game shows involving words or trivia, so I have enjoyed many an episode of the Feud over the years, with all five hosts. Yes, this would do for mindless background television.

As I watched, I remembered that for a time Family Feud was my online game of choice. It was hard at first because the game involves thinking like other people, which has never exactly been my forte.  I mean, seriously, where DO they find some of these “100 people surveyed?”  Slowly, I caught onto what answers the masses would come up with, which was in some ways more disturbing to me than getting the wrong answers.

But now I am actually pretty good at the game. In one game in this mini-marathon I kept yelling "sporting events" at the contestants who were trying to come up with an occasion when people scream when they're having fun.  Not only did I have the right answer (which none of the contestants  ever did get), I also had the right terminology.  I would never say "sporting event" in everyday conversation.

Despite this, I would probably never go on the show.  First of all, one of the family leaders on the episodes I watched kept introducing his one family member as "my wacky Aunt Sharon."  This gave me pause, as I, too, could be described like this in front of a national television audience.  Not to mention what a nightmare it would be to coordinate our outfits.

I have no idea how the families pick which two family members play the fast money round, but I just think it's a lot of pressure. Not only might you lose the game for the whole family, but you could be like the woman who answered, "crab fishing" when asked "What is a dirty job that someone has to do?"   

Of course, no one in the survey said that.  Then, to make it even worse, the host said "I'm not touching that one!" As the studio audience erupted in laughter,  the other connotation of her answer dawned on me.

Although I'd like to think that my answer would never be that crazily inane, I could inadvertently say something with another meaning because double entendres are often lost on me.  They just sail right over my head.  I still think “Cream”, my favorite Prince song, is about coffee, or maybe about realizing your potential, even though many a more knowing soul have scoffed at my naiveté, suggesting that it might be about sex.  Well, if they say so.  All I know is that it had a beat and you could dance to it.

I just envision the family reminiscing about that stupid answer at every holiday get-together for the rest of her life.  

Mostly, though, I hesitate because now the Feud gives the winning family a car, presumably to split five ways.  Even Solomon might have trouble figuring that one out.