Humor Me: Lights, camera, spell it or else
On Thursday, the finals of the Scripps National Spelling Bee
will be aired on ESPN, the humble little network that bills itself as the
“worldwide leader in sports.” Can you imagine how those kids will
feel as they stand on the stage, staring into the cameras of the worldwide leader
in self-importance?
Lots of pressure. Each kid must feel like he or she is swimming in a huge ocean and is just a little humuhumunukunukuapuaa.
Lots of pressure. Each kid must feel like he or she is swimming in a huge ocean and is just a little humuhumunukunukuapuaa.
No, I didn’t just
fall asleep on the keyboard. That’s an actual word that could come up in the Spelling
Bee. It’s the name of a small Hawaiian triggerfish. If you’d like some help
pronouncing it, it starts with an “h” sound.
If
I had really
fallen asleep while writing this column, you might’ve seen something
like nergqwenjgkm, fewpkkwkdsa or goraaaaafnssanFDADFA (with left temple
hitting the
caps lock). But you wouldn’t see floccinaucinihilipilificate
because, well, you need to know how to spell to get that one.
Or just get lucky, I guess. But it’s a real word, with a meaning of
“describing something as worthless.” Used in a sentence, I suggest:
Floccinaucinihilipilificate
is a word that I will never use.
I will never use it, but maybe it's a word the spelling contestants,
none of which are in high school yet, will use. I know they can spell it,
along with words such as "sphagnum" and "appoggiatura." No problem for them. They’ll
stare into the bright lights of the worldwide leader of all things and rattle
off "chiaroscurist" as though it’s a word they use every day.
Hey guys, doesn’t this part of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows remind you of a chiaroscurist painting?
Hey guys, doesn’t this part of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows remind you of a chiaroscurist painting?
I really am amazed by these spellers. They make it look easy
and there’s some serious tension onstage. It reminds me of when I was a
champion speller.
Well, nearly a championship speller. I believe I was
the fifth or sixth-runner up in my fifth grade class of about 25. Maybe I didn’t
even make it that far at Horizon Elementary (home of the fighting Panthers and
fire-ant infestations). I don’t remember all the details, but I do remember the
word that tripped me up:
Chocolate.
I went with C-H-O-C-A-L-A-T-E.
Not an impressive word to go out on, I know. But I got what I deserved. Instead of turning pages in the spelling-bee study guide, my spelling-bee prep involved turning up the volume on MTV. I watched a lot of ESPN back then, too, when it was worldwide leader in coverage of cliff diving and miniature golf.
Not an impressive word to go out on, I know. But I got what I deserved. Instead of turning pages in the spelling-bee study guide, my spelling-bee prep involved turning up the volume on MTV. I watched a lot of ESPN back then, too, when it was worldwide leader in coverage of cliff diving and miniature golf.
The spelling stars of today are much more disciplined. They study and sacrifice for years to prepare for the moment when
they walk onstage and spell a word that might never again be
uttered by a human.
And the competition gets tougher every year. Guess what the
winning word was back in 1940?
"Therapy."
In 1941, it was "initials."
Seriously, those were the winning words. I know there were a
lot of things distracting Americans from high-level spelling study back then --
such as the demonstration of the first color TV and, oh yeah, a psycho dude named Hitler –
but I’m not impressed. I might’ve actually been able to compete in 1940 and '41 had I
nailed down c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e.
But these days? There's not a chance that I could make it past the
first round. I’m astounded by the words that these young super spellers
confidently bust out.
Laodicea. Stromuhr. Cymotrichous.
Laodicea. Stromuhr. Cymotrichous.
If I spent more than five minutes studying words like that,
I would start dozing. I'd get a severe case of the falling-asleep-neck-snap that I remember so well
from political science classes in college.
Autochthonous … succedaneum … xanthosis …
efbewbgfjerlqgbwhelrgwr.
Yep, nodded off on that last one. But who knows? Maybe it will show up on this week's Spelling Bee.
***
You can use the buttons below to share the column on Facebook or Twitter. You can also sign up to follow @humorcolumn, which will send out a tweet when a new column is posted. To sign up to receive the columns by e-mail, type your e-mail address in the box under "Follow by e-mail" near the top of this page on the far right. Thanks!
***
You can use the buttons below to share the column on Facebook or Twitter. You can also sign up to follow @humorcolumn, which will send out a tweet when a new column is posted. To sign up to receive the columns by e-mail, type your e-mail address in the box under "Follow by e-mail" near the top of this page on the far right. Thanks!