Skill-testing Questions, Contestants Row, and other by-products of the gaming industry

Pt. I (of III)

Due to gambling restrictions and Canadian creativity, an eligibility requirement appears on any game card or contest available to the under age-of-majority in Ontario (Canada).

My first exposure to this eligibility requirement involved a contest for a stuffed toy that looked like a cross between StayPuft marshmallow man and a Popple.

I collected UPCs from boxes of Kleenex (Scotties brand, actually, so I guess that makes them just tissues) and filled out my name, address and other important particulars in order to win a FREE stuffed Scottie doll*.

And then, I experienced my first instance of consumer heart-break as my seven-year-old self read the following: Contestants must correctly answer a mathematical skill-testing question in order to qualify. Followed by:

(3+4) x (21/ (10-3))+4 _____.

We hadn’t covered order of operations in math yet, and sadly, I never received my Kleenex tissue doll.

My interest in game shows grew-up on the living room floor of my great-grandparent’s bungalow. My older sister, Allison, and I would lie on the teal blue carpet facing the wood-panelled TV cabinet, propped up on pillows snagged from the chesterfield, and watch Bob Barker (who had brown hair at the time, if that helps you carbon-date my story) work his Guy Smiley magic on The Price is Right.

 

 

Barker’s Beauties (who were all blonde, with the exception of Holly, who affirmed my belief that brunettes could be on TV without having to play a role like Janet from Three’s Company) would bring out “the first item up for bid….”, and Papa, Allison and I would shout out our bids while the frazzled looking members of Contestants Row would frantically look over their shoulders into the screaming audience.

I don’t remember how many exercise bicycles we won from out spot on the living room carpet over the years, but I was able to tell you the ($USD) price of hamburger helper and a jumbo pack of vitamins long before I could successfully answer the skill-testing question required to win any contests in Canada. (Thank-you, Papa, and American Daytime TV).

So, imagine my excitement when I found out: #1 – that Canadians were actually allowed to appear on The Price Is Right (I was under the impression you needed a social security number, a southern accent, or some other proof of American-ness in order to win…A NEW CAR), and #2 – that my friend Jen had two extra tickets to a taping of The Price is Right. Finally, a chance to see Contestants Row, up close & personal, in all its plywood and flashing lights glory.

In order to keep you all in suspense – Part II will be posted Tuesday.
If you email me with the correct answer to the STQ, I’ll give a sneak peek of II & III.

If you were told there would be no math on this exam, and prefer to bide your time in less arithmetic ways, then hop on CBS’s DIY bandwagon and make your own Bob Barker tribute tape. Do people still call them “tapes”, if VHS and all things magnetic tape based has gone the way of the d’oi-ya bird?

* Looks like I could still get my Scottie toy. But inflation has edged “free” up to $9.95 +S&H.

Birkenstock monkeys and shoes for people who can afford to not walk.

I have had this link saved in my drafts for months: Click here to read about the chosen footwear of the Crunchy-Granola

There are a lot of Birkenstock monkeys around the Coffee Shop I frequent. Most of them wear socks, but one guy rocks the Birks barefoot, and barefeet kinda gross me out. Say what you want about socks and sandals, but when someone puts their feet up on the bench next to you, and they are unsocked, and you are eating or drinking, it’s gross.

It kills me to think that anyone would think this much about their footwear, (same link, moved to this paragraph for quick reference. See how helpful I am?). I hope the Coffee Shop Birkenstock monkeys wear their weird flat sandals becuase they find them comfortable, and not becuase they want the world to know how much they love the earth and trees and that.

And if so, what do my $12.99 (at Ross) shoes tell the world about me?
(Like the picture, but dirtier, and without the edgy-emo-hipster-skulls —- because 30-seconds of Google image searching is worth 1000 words).

#1. Well, no one knows I bought them at Ross, or how much they cost, so they don’t really say “I’m cheap, but good at finding deals.” Nix this point.

#1. (because the first #1 didn’t really count) They are slip-on, which tells the world – “I’m lazy”.

#2. They are dirty and pretty worn, despite being only a few months old, which says “Hey guys, I walk a lot!”

#3. (becuase what is a list with only two points?) They don’t have high heels, which says “I’m alright with my stubby legs, and p.s. high heels and jeans and walking a lot is just plain stupid.”

Grosser than barefeet-on-a-bench-next-to-you? These.
Grosser than that? Starting them young.

semi-regular postings? ha…

My apologies for not posting anything new in over a month. I have a notebook filled with juicy money meanderings…but they have to be typed, and all the clocks around me have been spinning wildly fast, as of late.

Out in the doesn’t-need-to-be-typed-to-exist world, I have been preparing a show of my photographs. They are up at the Coffee Society, (21265 Stevens Creek Blvd, Suite 202, across from De Anza College, Cupertino). I’ll have an online version of the show up at the post-art gallery by the end of the week sometime soon.