Everyone knows the standard first-year dorm initiation ““
the floor trip to “The Price is Right” taping. Usually
one dreams the night before of hearing Rod Roddy shout out to
“Come on down because you are the next contestant,”
only to wake up to reality knowing that the chances are slim to
none ““ actually 9 out of about 300 ““ of getting
picked.
Only, what if it really happened? You never thought it could be
you. And you never thought you’d act like an idiot the way
everyone else does when they get selected. But suddenly it’s
your name that gets called. After the initial two seconds of shock,
you spring out of your seat, slap a few friends high-fives and then
frantically run down, or more like jump-skip down, to contestants
row. Here, you bid on random, cheesy objects you never even knew
you needed.
At least that’s what happened to me. I wasn’t even
going to go. In the midst of annoyance at ditching class and
unpreparedness for the rainy weather, I almost passed up my chance
to come into close contact with the one and only Bob Barker. (How
old is he anyway?)
I have to admit, “The Price is Right” wasn’t
all I thought it would be. Though I never dreamt about one day
getting on the show and spinning a dollar, and actually winning
myself a quick thousand, I honored the show and its idea of free
money.
Besides overcoming the shock that Bob obviously still “had
it” (as indicated by the fact that a scantily clad young
woman got up during one of the commercials to ask him if he was
dating anyone), many other things proved to be more myth. Or
rather, they were heart-breaking ““ coming from a background
in which my sister and I religiously watched the show every day at
10 a.m. during our childhood summers.
Myth breaker #1: The set is super tiny and nothing like the
image on my TV screen. Not only did I feel like I was in a shoebox,
but I don’t think a single piece of it has been changed since
the show’s start. It was straight out of the ’70s,
including the outfits of the models, which were screaming fashion
faux pas. Greenish dress suits with loudly sized button? I
don’t think so.
Myth breaker #2: Bob was not very with friendly with me ““
someone who made it all the way to the showcase showdown only to
lose both of them to some chummy UCSD punk. He not only
didn’t ask me a single personal question, besides where I was
from, but I think I actually scared him when I ran onto the stage
to give him a hug. But I was only doing what everyone always does
and what Rod Roddy had encouraged us to do prior to the show.
I later found out Bob actually hates it when people hug him, as
he once suffered a few broken ribs after a supposedly large woman
rushed him onstage for an embrace.
And I have to admit, I was not impressed, especially when my
intermediate prize turned out to be a lawn mower, a washer and
dryer, and a poopy-brown couch. Oh well, I didn’t win those
anyway. (Who knew that a couch was more expensive then a washer and
dryer combined? I sure as hell didn’t.)
Myth breaker #3: “The Price is Right” really
isn’t all about fulfilling the dreams of mediocre people who
travel thousands of miles and arrive at 4 a.m. the day of the
taping just for a small, minute chance of winning big.
There is no Vegas anonymity here. Members of the studio audience
actually get “interviewed” by the producer and his
assistant prior to the show. They select who actually gets to
“come on down.” Maybe I’m naive, but I always
thought the names were chosen at random and that everyone had an
equal chance. I almost felt guilty getting selected, my name being
the first one called. Almost.
My group showed up nonchalantly late around noon, and I was
casually decked out in jeans and a UCLA shirt, something I almost
skipped. But I figured I had to show some type of alliance.
People who really deserved to be on the show (but who I really
don’t care about, being that I am now $1,000 richer and a bar
set ““ complete with stools ““ wealthier) not only came
prior to dawn and sat in the rain to get on the show, but also had
customized shirts with cutesy sayings for Barker made out just for
the trip. Wouldn’t you think they deserved to be on the show
more than some college student who didn’t really care one way
or the other, who in fact didn’t even want to get picked
prior to hearing her name called out?
Yet, none of these people got selected. Was it because they
looked like they belong on “Jerry Springer,” as in one
instance in which a woman had hickeys covering her entire neck? Who
knows? But all I know is they were the people who really wanted to
get on the show, who really dream about “winning big.”
I was someone who just thought it seems like a legit reason to miss
school.
Though my expectations could have been cut short by the fact
that my childhood naivete was ripped out of my hands, I got on the
show and I couldn’t care less about such expectations. I made
it all the way to the showcase showdown and I spun a dollar. What
kind of luck is that?
I had fun, I acted like a complete idiot for 45 minutes and I
got to hug Bob Barker. What more is there to life? Clearly I have
fulfilled my destiny.
You can watch McGuire’s embarrassing television debut this
Wednesday at 3 p.m., or e-mail her at sueko@ucla.edu for a free drink at her new bar.