By:
The Dude on the Right
So I briefly talked about my heading to
auditions for "Wheel of Fortune," so I thought I might fill you in a little bit
more about the experience because it was really nothing like I originally
envisioned though I guess this blog is more of a story so it’s a little longer,
sorry…
It all started a few months ago when the
"Wheel of Fortune"
folks announced they were going to be filming some shows in early 2008 at Navy
Pier in Chicago, and that eventually they would be holding auditions. I like
"Wheel," think I do fairly well at guessing the puzzles before a lot of the
contestants, and yell at the TV when I think vowels are bought stupidly. As such
I figured "What the hell? When they come to town for auditions why not give it
shot?" At the time I figured you just got in a line, they had you fill out some
kind of "who are you?" form, maybe do a quick interview, and then would call
you later if you qualified.
Then it was announced that the
Wheelmobile would be in Chicagoland (actually Rosemont, IL), the weekend of
October 20th, and as many times as I saw the Wheelmobile promo during "Wheel" I
never paid attention because what actually happens at a Wheelmobile event is
nothing like I initially imagined. Nope, it’s part game show, part audition,
part comedic entertainment, but sadly for me, not part "getting on stage." I did
re-check the "Wheel of Fortune" website before I went to the "auditions," and
learned a little bit more about what happens. So here you go…
For the Saturday stop it was announced that there would be three "shows," at
1PM, 2:30PM, and 4PM, and that you really just needed to arrive about an hour
before each "show." So, of course, I’m at the Rosemont Theatre at about
11AM, which was easily an hour too early. But I get there, they give you a
little slip to fill out with pertinent stuff like your name, address, phone, and
a line for hobbies and cool things about you. I dipped back into my love of
bowling (which seemed to be very popular among the people who ended up on
stage), and movies, but then realized my life is fairly boring because I
couldn’t think of anything else. I probably should have called some of my
friends at the time, like some other people were doing, to remind me about what
is cool about me, but then I realized most of my friends would probably just say
"Dude, you don’t do anything fun, other than seeing a lot of movies by yourself,
and you used to see a lot of concerts. Hey, what happened with that anyway?
Maybe you need to quick watching so much TV?" After I put my slip in
the collection box it occurred to me I should have written down "I can wiggle my
ears."
So I fill out my form, buy a $3 bottle of water, drop my slip in the
collection box, (remember about my ears), fill out another form to win prizes, and find a nice aisle seat,
with an hour and forty-five minutes yet to kill before the 1PM "show." At this
point I am ecstatic, well maybe not ecstatic, but I’m happy I bought an iPhone
so I surfed the web and played some games in anticipation of the start of the
show.
The time comes, actually it’s a little before 1PM, and the first level of the
theater is packed solid. Out come Marty and Heidi (okay, I have to admit, I’m
not totally sure those were there names, but it’s the best I could find via
Google at the time, and I’m too lazy to actually make a phone call or two to
confirm, so for now I’m going with Marty and Heidi, without any last names) with
Heidi playing the role of a fake Vanna White, and Marty (who seems to be a big fan of the movie “Old School”) actually having a harder
job than Pat Sajak because he has to act as MC, interviewer, game show host, and
all around funny dude. The process is then pretty simple: All of the audition
slips have been put in this big gold drum, Heidi spins the golden drum and pulls out
five names, Marty calls the names the best he can and the five people come up on
stage. Marty then interviews them, one by one. Then he spins a wheel to see
which parting gift they will win (things like caps, t-shirts, duffel bags), and then
adds an extra couple of trinkets, like a Wheel of Fortune deck of cards or Wheel
of Fortune blinky pen. And finally Marty directs the five folks through a speed
round, you know, the round at the end of "Wheel" when Pat gives the wheel a
final spin, the contestant picks a letter and tries to solve, the next
contestant picks a letter and tries to solve, etc., etc., and the same thing
happens on stage except there’s no giving a wheel a final spin. The five folks
pick a letter, try to solve, eventually one of them does solve the puzzle, and
then five more people get their shot at being on stage.
The weird part about being there is that for about 45 minutes it’s kind of
like part game show, where you are in the audience, but since you are there to
hopefully get on the show (at least most of the people are), there’s also that
anticipation part that maybe this time your name will be pulled from the golden
drum, there’s also that part where you are sitting in the audience knowing you would
be better during the interview than that person up on stage right now, there’s
also that part
that you can’t believe the person picked that letter, and there’s also that part when you
know the answer to the puzzle and can’t believe no one else on stage has solved
it yet.
Then the last 15 minutes come.
Now the realization and disappointment begins to hit because your name hasn’t
been called yet, you didn’t get your chance to show you would be the greatest
"Wheel of Fortune" contestant player ever, you wish they would go a little
quicker on stage so that maybe the golden drum will spin one last time and your
name will finally be called, and you start to get a little pissed as you look
back on the people who did get called to the stage and wonder what in the hell
they were actually doing there. During my little show there were two people that
stood out as "You took my spot!"-ers, and probably have no chance in hell of
getting on the show. One person was this little old lady who maybe enjoys
watching the show, but it sure hasn’t helped her command of the English language.
Her interview was exactly what you would imagine of a grandma, right off of the
boat, not really understanding the phrase "What do you do for fun?", and even
after she starts to figure out what you are asking, you can’t understand her
even if you wanted to. Part of the other thing about getting your chance at the
audition is that sure, maybe you are nervous, but if you let that inhibit your
having fun, I’m guessing the folks who pick the folks for the next round of
auditions skip right over you. This case in point came from a lady who wouldn’t
sing. At the beginning of the show Marty mentions that if you want to sing,
well, sing. If you want to dance, dance. If you want to tell a joke, go ahead,
just keep it clean, so as he’s doing his quick interview of the lady he asks
what she does for fun. She mentions she likes to hang out with her family and
sing karaoke. Marty sees the opening for her to maybe seal her spot to the next
round and asks her to sing, to which she shyly declines. He even prods her a
little more, but she still says no. A few contestants later a dude says he likes
to shoot pool, or something like that, and sing. Marty gives this dude his
opening, asking if he’ll sing, and he belts out a quick verse. I’m guessing he
had a really good shot to go on, while "no-singing lady who took my spot," not so much.
And so Marty announces the last five names are coming out of the golden drum,
my name isn’t called, and it’s time to make a choice: Stick around for the next
show (although from the line that snaked around the Rosemont Theatre at the time
I’m guessing it was already "Sold Out"), stick around even later for the 4PM, or
just head back to the Dude-Pad and get some things done. Sure, my dedication for
getting on the show maybe wasn’t as high as those who tried every show during
the weekend, but after going through the last 15 minutes portion of that first
show, the disappointment that I didn’t get my chance to shine, and the being
pissed off because I know I would have been better on stage than the old lady, I
felt ready to retire my interview speech: "My name’s The Dude on the Right. By
day I’m an consultant for the construction industry and by night I publish an
internet magazine. I love movies, music, and TV. I have 3 fish. Steve’s
about 6 years old, Ashley’s about 5, and Bam is about 3." Marty would say
something, because he wasn’t wasn’t paying that much attention like, "You don’t
know the age of your children?", to which I would retort, "I said ‘I have 3
fish.’", and the people would have laughed. Then, of course, not to split
the crowd like the Cub’s fan did, I would have yelled "Go Bears!" In my
head it worked perfectly, but sadly, Heidi never picked my name out of the
golden drum.
Not getting picked aside, though, it was actually a pretty enjoyable time.
I’ll give a ton of credit to Marty for his ability to keep things fun and deal
with people who are either nervous beyond belief or goofy beyond belief or have
no point having their name in the golden drum beyond belief, and I would say that even if you
don’t want to be on the show, and if the Wheelmobile comes to your town, head to
the auditions for an fun experience. Around me I heard a lot of husbands
and boyfriends saying they were there for their wives/girlfriends, and hoped
they wouldn’t get picked to go up on stage, to which I say, "Don’t fill out the
damn audition slip and take my spot!", but I’m guessing, in the bottom of their
stomachs, there was this little part of them hoping their name would be pulled
from that golden drum.
Even though I blew my chance at attending another "show" on Saturday, what
pissed me off more was that I wasted more chances by staying at home to watch
the Chicago Bears implode on Sunday when I could have been at another audition
or two during the crappy football game, and if, by chance, Heidi pulled my audition slip,
and Marty mispronounced my last name (because, for whatever reason, people can’t
pronounce "Right"), I could have been able to tell about how much I love my
fish and might have remembered that part about being able to wiggle my ears. Even, if in the end, after getting up on stage, I still didn’t make
it to the next audition round, I would have really liked to get that "Wheel of
Fortune" blinky pen.
Like the Chicago Cubs, I guess, maybe I’ll have to wait until next year,
unless, somehow, someway, my audition slip is pulled at random for another
chance at the "Wheel of Fortune" Chicago finals. I guess, right now, I
better hope I wrote my phone number or e-mail address in a legibly fashion when
I was transcribing it on my audition slip using my "Souvenir," "Wheel of
Fortune" computer CD as a clipboard, otherwise they might be trying to contact
who knows who. Such might be the life of a wannabe "Wheel of Fortune" contestant.
That’s it for this one!
I’m The Dude on the Right!! L8R!!!
