Originally published March 24, 2013
As this interminable winter continues, Joyce and I have discovered a lifeline. There's this thing on television called the Game Show Network.
I don't know why network executives thought people would like to see reruns of game shows from decades past. Until last week, I scoffed at the idea. Game shows are stupid enough in the present day.
But somehow our TV found GSN last weekend, and we're hooked. We debate the various merits of the string of fellows who followed Richard Dawson on Family Feud (they're all lousy). We now know that we're not smarter than a fifth grader. We wonder why some sixth grader doesn't get on that show and win the million bucks. Or maybe a fifth grade teacher.
The really old game shows are fun because of the prizes. One lucky contestant last week answered a question and won a brand new compact disc player stereo rack system. Oh, the good old days.
It makes you wish TV had been invented a hundred years earlier so there would have been 1800s game shows that we could now watch on GSN.
"We surveyed 100 farmers, and the top four answers are on the board. We asked, 'What is the worst thing about a Comanche raid on your farm during the wintertime?'"
The female contestant, clad in a long dress, apron and starched white bonnet, would slap the little buzzer thing, which wouldn't go off because buzzers hadn't been invented yet. She would look to her husband for permission to speak and receive a gruff nod.
Then she would answer, "They take the dried venison."
"Survey says (ding) 'They take the meat!' Number one answer! Tell her what she's won, Johnny!"
A voice would holler from off-stage, "Are you tired of cutting through the tough sod every spring with a hoe and a shovel? Well, say hello to your (dramatic pause) brand new mule!"
At this point a blacksmith would lead a mule onto the stage.
It would have on a diaper (the mule, not the blacksmith), because even in the 1800s it was gross to watch a mule poop on TV. The mule would nip the blacksmith, who would slap its head, eliciting hundreds of angry letters from PETA viewers.
"Bred from the finest horse and donkey on the East Coast, this multifunction animal is capable of pulling a plow whenever it is in the mood! Then, after a long day in the fields, rub him down and hitch him to a cart for a ride through your local town! You'll be the envy of your neighbors!"
The game show would need to run a little disclaimer at the bottom of the screen, letting viewers know that mule technology is considered to be witchcraft in many areas.
Cart and plow not included.
The contestant would look to her husband for permission, receive another gruff nod, then jump around in hysterical glee, accidentally hugging the host, who then would be beaten by the husband with a riding crop.
On second thought, maybe people in the 1800s weren't ready for game shows. It might be more fun to hook your temporal scanner up to the TV via the HDMI interface and watch game shows from the future.
I'm sure in the future all game show hosts will be androids who look just like the 1980s Alex Trebec, only with chrome skin like that guy on Terminator 2.
"I'll take 'Ancient United States' for $100 billion, Alex231," would say the contestant, an androgynous creature with a whole-body tattoo of a human man.
"The answer is, 'Obamacare.'" The contestant's tattoo would look thoughtful, then stumped, and after a couple seconds a buzzer would sound. (Strangely, it would be the exact same buzzer that's in today's game shows, a device with no other known function.)
The android-Alex would look regretful and sympathetic. "Oh, I'm sorry. It was 'What evil monster arose from the sea and devoured everybody in the country in 2016, causing four Dark Ages and a zombie apocalypse?'"
The contestant would slap the tattoo of a head at the top of its body. "I knew that, darn it."
The show would cut away to a commercial during the penalty phase of the game as the losing contestant is dined upon by the show's crew. Even in the 2600s, it's gross to watch zombies eat somebody on TV.
Come on, spring, get here. I just wrote a column about the Game Show Network, for Pete's sake.
No comments:
Post a Comment