Confession time: I am a nerd. Not a self-proclaimed sexy geek. A nerd.
Today is a national holiday for nerds. Why, you ask? It's one of the greatest yearly events in Nerdville: The Scripps National Spelling Bee.
When I was in fourth grade, I came in second in my school's spelling bee. When I was in fifth grade, I won my school's spelling bee. I don't remember hearing about a spelling bee when I was in middle school though. Perhaps my school system just washed their hands of the whole affair.
Now before you start thinking differently, my parents did not feed me flashcards for breakfast; I've always been a fairly decent speller (grammar, on the other hand, remains a mystery to me). And around these parts, if you can successfully spell lunch, cat, or Monday, you have a pretty good chance of winning your school's spelling bee. But I lost in one of the early rounds of the county championship.
The word that knocked me out of the competition? Marriage. According to my ten-year-old brain, there was no "I" in marriage. I would say that a lot during my footloose single days.
Actually, I still tell that joke today. It's a wonder Ella ever married me. For that and oh-so-many more reasons.
But back to the REAL spellers. The Scripps National Spelling Bee has been televised on ESPN for as long as I can remember. This year, they're showing the early rounds on ESPN on Thursday from noon to three. The championship round will follow on ABC at 8:00 PM.
That's right, bitches. Spelling's gone mainstream. Deal.
I looooooooove watching the spelling bee. Armed with equal parts empathy and morbid fascination, I watch these poor kids fumble their way through words I've never heard of. Look, it's hard enough being a normal twelve-to-fourteen-year-old in this day and age. Imagine being a kid whose only human contact for the past six months has been some deranged Alphabet Dictator constantly barking obscure French spelling rules. You'd develop severe tics as well.
Whether it be clutching the microphone as if to keep from falling into some imaginary pit beneath them, sweating profusely, swaying back and forth, uncontrollable blinking, gasping between letters, sniffing their fingers (I'm looking at you, E-U-O-N-Y-M! girl), or writing on their placards with their BIC® Index Fingers, these kids are glorious messes.
But you know who also has it rough? The pronouncer. The fortitude of the pronouncers simply amazes me. How has something like the following never happened?
Pronouncer: Dik-taht.
Contestant: Dik-tat.
Pronouncer: Dik-taht.
Contestant: Dik-tat.
Pronouncer: Dik-TAHT.
Contestant: Dik-taht. May I have the definition, please?
Pronouncer: Diktat: an authoritative decree or order.
Contestant: Can you use it in a sentence?
Pronouncer: The czar issued a diktat that many citizens deemed unfair.
Contestant: Are there any alternate pronunciations?
Pronouncer: No. Just dik-taht.
Contestant: Dik-tat.
Pronouncer: Dik-TAHT.
Contestant: Dik-taht. What's the language of origin?
Pronouncer: Latin. To dictate.
Contestant: Dik-tat.
Pronouncer: DIK-TAHT!
Contestant: Can you use it in a sentence?
Pronouncer: Yes! This moron can't say dik-TAHT! How's that sentence for you, DICK-HEAD?
Needless to say, I'll be Tivoing it just in case something like that occurs. Anyone else watching? Does anyone have any early lines on the kids? Any dark horses I should be aware of?
It's March Madness for nerds!
I Wonder How They Would Fare With Def Leppard
