Does anyone remember Spellbound, the 2002 documentary that follows eight kids through the 1999 national spelling bee? I found it entertaining at the time. https://m.imdb.com/title/tt0334405/
I love this story. Here is my own very embarrassing memory of spelling bees. I was in 4th grade in El Paso, Texas in 1962 ish. I was one of 2 still standing to see who would represent our class in the school wide Spelling Bee. I was a very shy kid but somehow this goal was very important to me. Unfortunately, I also had to use the bathroom desperately and kept waiting for a word so hard I could miss it without losing face. They were too easy! In those days, girls always wore dresses and ankle socks. As the clock ticked, I felt the horrible sensation of dribbling down my legs and into my socks. I will never know if anyone noticed but my teacher kindly sent me home to change. I won! My granddaughter often asks for a story about “when you got hurt; were embarrassed; got in trouble etc.” I shared this with her when she was about the same age and she was appropriately mortified. But the moral of the story was that I survived even as the memory is still so strong.
My childhood dream was to be on the Bozo the clown show. Somehow my mom made it happen. I told everyone I knew I would be on TV. Picked out my favorite outfit. As it turned out the Yankees baseball game ran into overtime and the show never aired. I was on the show but no one ever saw me. I cried a lot. Never got a do over.
Look at it this way: with Trump in office, we’re all on the Bozo show. It’s your do-over. And I’m crying,too. Every sane, thinking human is. (I was on the Bozo show in the 1960s. It was definitely more fun than this version.)
Wonderful! What a great way to start a Sunday morning! Love the customized photo. I saw Spelling Bee on Broadway long ago and, as I like to think of myself as an ace speller and puzzler, I was so envious of the audience members who were chosen. One of my pipe dreams was to star in Funny Girl, like maybe a community production someday, somehow. I have the nose for it but, sadly, I was never a belter (ouch!), so I never tried out. I stuck with choral singing (still at it) and that's good enough for me.
Thank you, Deborah. One thing I’ve learned over the years is that I’m only a decent speller. There are words I get wrong all the time. “Possessed” is not one.
One day my wife said, "Unfortunately, I can never spell." I nodded along and kept plugging away at my laptop. This wasn't new news. She piped up again, "How do you spell it?"
"What?"
"Unfortunately!"
I have to spell Machu Picchu wrong the first time to get it right the next.
Lol. I now have some potential passwords in my pocket! Never was in a spelling bee, but in a community drama school production of Heidi, where I played a minor character , I said the wrong lines and knocked out an entire scene from the play. Chastised and mortified I never followed That dream! 😂
Wow! It takes a most unusual talent for a minor character to knock an entire scene out of a play. Instead of a path to stardom, you got the makings of a story.
Oh my! You brought back memories with this delightful story. I was 16. Singing in a talent contest at school. My second place finish was the end of my singing career when my brother did what every ‘good’ big brother does - pulled me down a notch to keep me humble. (Harrumph) my second place was a pity win he told me. I really shouldn’t sing in public.
I quit singing in public.
But the memory kept singing its woeful warnings not to let anyone know I liked to sing.
Until just before my 70 th BDay when I decided I needed to clean up the memory mess. I did not want to carry that painful memory forward.
At a seminar I coach in I had the opportunity to stand on stage in front of 300 people and sing my heart, and the memory, out.
The song I sang? The same one that won me second place all those years ago. Joni Mitchell’s, ‘Both Sides Now’.
I used to be the spelling champ in my grade when I went to a small parochial school. Then I went to public school. One day they had a spelling bee and I thought to myself that now was the time to show the class my intellectual superiority, as up until then I was always the weird one, the odd girl out. I was supremely confident. I got my first word: scissors. I was ready: sissors I spelled. And then I was out. On my first word, over confident and too smug to actually answer correctly. This happened in 1976 and I vividly still remember this 49 years later.
Well, I wasn't exactly a child, but as an aspiring actress in Los Angeles I came up woth the idea of getting my family on Family Feud. I'd be seen on national television and be discovered.
We got on the show, played our hearts out, and lost. Broken-hearted, we slunk back home with our popcorn maker and years supply of popcorn. Then, the next year, we got the call. They wanted us back for a rare encore performance. We came, we played, we lost.
A family of hippie intellectuals was never fated to win a game whose point is to be typical. One example is the question of what you do to relax. My family came up with reading, meditating, sunbathing, and taking a bath. None of us thought of watching TV!
I won a pie eating contest, too! I was seven, too! At the YMCA! It was the same day I threw up in the pool and wept in the locker room. I just realized I probably didn’t win after all. Still, I remember the pool, the locker room, and the applause.
It was our first winter in New Hampshire, I was six. Donned in my red and white checkered snowsuit, we attended festivities at Sargent Camp. (Rona, maybe you know it?) The blueberry pie looked delicious! How hard would it be to eat half a pie? My eyes were bigger than my stomach, since I, too threw up shortly after the contest. I wouldn't touch blueberry pie again until I was an adult!
Later in Grade 4, I had aspirations to be a spelling bee champ. Tripped on "engine"--a disaster!
I could never have entered a pie-eating contest because my mother’s pies surpassed all others (until my sister got into pies). There’s something so brain-scrambling about spelling bees that we word nerds blow the easy stuff. Engine! Well, another commenter here flubbed “little.” So it goes. Thank you for joining the conversation.
Looking back, Tracy, I’m pretty impressed myself. I’d take that Broadway appearance over any number of bylines but must admit to a secret hankering to lead a memoir group on a cruise ship.
I had many childhood dreams, most of them involving my marrying David Cassidy, Sean Cassidy, Bobby Sherman or Donny Osmond. I did meet Sean and Donny- when I interviewed them as a summer reporter at the Cape Cod Times. By then I dreamed of becoming a newspaper reporter. That happened! (I wonder how many college kids have that dream now?) (More like a nightmare, I fear.)
Smiles are hard to come by these days, so I’m delighted to send one your way. Or a few (even better). Aren’t you glad you married a different David instead of Mr. Cassidy?
Does anyone remember Spellbound, the 2002 documentary that follows eight kids through the 1999 national spelling bee? I found it entertaining at the time. https://m.imdb.com/title/tt0334405/
I love this story. Here is my own very embarrassing memory of spelling bees. I was in 4th grade in El Paso, Texas in 1962 ish. I was one of 2 still standing to see who would represent our class in the school wide Spelling Bee. I was a very shy kid but somehow this goal was very important to me. Unfortunately, I also had to use the bathroom desperately and kept waiting for a word so hard I could miss it without losing face. They were too easy! In those days, girls always wore dresses and ankle socks. As the clock ticked, I felt the horrible sensation of dribbling down my legs and into my socks. I will never know if anyone noticed but my teacher kindly sent me home to change. I won! My granddaughter often asks for a story about “when you got hurt; were embarrassed; got in trouble etc.” I shared this with her when she was about the same age and she was appropriately mortified. But the moral of the story was that I survived even as the memory is still so strong.
Debra, what a wonderful story. It proves that for young word nerds, misspelling in public and blowing a victory is even worse than wetting your pants.
My childhood dream was to be on the Bozo the clown show. Somehow my mom made it happen. I told everyone I knew I would be on TV. Picked out my favorite outfit. As it turned out the Yankees baseball game ran into overtime and the show never aired. I was on the show but no one ever saw me. I cried a lot. Never got a do over.
Helaine, this memory made me laugh and ache for you. Bozo the clown! You have to be a certain age to remember.
Look at it this way: with Trump in office, we’re all on the Bozo show. It’s your do-over. And I’m crying,too. Every sane, thinking human is. (I was on the Bozo show in the 1960s. It was definitely more fun than this version.)
Oh, I don’t doubt it.
Wonderful! What a great way to start a Sunday morning! Love the customized photo. I saw Spelling Bee on Broadway long ago and, as I like to think of myself as an ace speller and puzzler, I was so envious of the audience members who were chosen. One of my pipe dreams was to star in Funny Girl, like maybe a community production someday, somehow. I have the nose for it but, sadly, I was never a belter (ouch!), so I never tried out. I stuck with choral singing (still at it) and that's good enough for me.
Thank you, Deborah. One thing I’ve learned over the years is that I’m only a decent speller. There are words I get wrong all the time. “Possessed” is not one.
Ha ha! Understood. I struggle with Cincinnati. Every time. And, yes, onomatopoeia. Come on!
Ha! Deborah, you need to know the song “C-I-N-C-I-N-N-A-T-I, Cincinnati!”from Babes in Toyland.
Loved your story, Rona!
https://youtu.be/62DGe9i9lGQ?si=D8lZQ-PnmhIuL4EJ
That’s a new one! Thank you, Paulette.
Oh! I need to learn that to be able to remember! Thanks.
One day my wife said, "Unfortunately, I can never spell." I nodded along and kept plugging away at my laptop. This wasn't new news. She piped up again, "How do you spell it?"
"What?"
"Unfortunately!"
I have to spell Machu Picchu wrong the first time to get it right the next.
Looks like you nailed it this time, Jules.
Lol. I now have some potential passwords in my pocket! Never was in a spelling bee, but in a community drama school production of Heidi, where I played a minor character , I said the wrong lines and knocked out an entire scene from the play. Chastised and mortified I never followed That dream! 😂
Wow! It takes a most unusual talent for a minor character to knock an entire scene out of a play. Instead of a path to stardom, you got the makings of a story.
It was along the lines of "Here come the goat-herds!"
The goat-herds had no choice but to come on stage. Wiping out what was supposed to go before!
Oops! Okay, I get it. Great story.
This is so so so so funny. You have left me posssessied.
That was the idea. I’m honored.
That was hilarious. And that jubilant shot of you with the cast behind is priceless.
Thank you, Pam. That’s my favorite layout in many, many years of magazine writing.
Oh my! You brought back memories with this delightful story. I was 16. Singing in a talent contest at school. My second place finish was the end of my singing career when my brother did what every ‘good’ big brother does - pulled me down a notch to keep me humble. (Harrumph) my second place was a pity win he told me. I really shouldn’t sing in public.
I quit singing in public.
But the memory kept singing its woeful warnings not to let anyone know I liked to sing.
Until just before my 70 th BDay when I decided I needed to clean up the memory mess. I did not want to carry that painful memory forward.
At a seminar I coach in I had the opportunity to stand on stage in front of 300 people and sing my heart, and the memory, out.
The song I sang? The same one that won me second place all those years ago. Joni Mitchell’s, ‘Both Sides Now’.
Louise, how appropriate. Hurray for second chances to be your true joyful self.
I used to be the spelling champ in my grade when I went to a small parochial school. Then I went to public school. One day they had a spelling bee and I thought to myself that now was the time to show the class my intellectual superiority, as up until then I was always the weird one, the odd girl out. I was supremely confident. I got my first word: scissors. I was ready: sissors I spelled. And then I was out. On my first word, over confident and too smug to actually answer correctly. This happened in 1976 and I vividly still remember this 49 years later.
Don’t we all remember the words that shattered our hopes and humiliated us? Spelling bees: what exquisite torture. Thank you for your story, Lily.
Just wanted to add this happened in NH, as a frame of reference for others from NH!
Yes, we have at least one other NH native here.
I look forward to Sundays with Rona. And now the week is now off to a fine start. Thanks for such a delightful story.
Thank you, Dan. Delight can be hard to come by, and I like to deliver when I can.
Well, I wasn't exactly a child, but as an aspiring actress in Los Angeles I came up woth the idea of getting my family on Family Feud. I'd be seen on national television and be discovered.
We got on the show, played our hearts out, and lost. Broken-hearted, we slunk back home with our popcorn maker and years supply of popcorn. Then, the next year, we got the call. They wanted us back for a rare encore performance. We came, we played, we lost.
A family of hippie intellectuals was never fated to win a game whose point is to be typical. One example is the question of what you do to relax. My family came up with reading, meditating, sunbathing, and taking a bath. None of us thought of watching TV!
Well, you did watch Family Feud, didn’t you? Oh, the irony!
Actually we almost never watched TV except for old movies. Back when old movies were on TV!
I remember!
At seven, I won a pie-eating contest in the park. I entered because the pie was boysenberry.
You were one hungry kid with a big passion for boysenberry. Bet it was fun beating grownups.
My grandson’s first-birthday party today will feature five kinds of pie. I was thinking about ollalieberry when your post went up.
I won a pie eating contest, too! I was seven, too! At the YMCA! It was the same day I threw up in the pool and wept in the locker room. I just realized I probably didn’t win after all. Still, I remember the pool, the locker room, and the applause.
It was our first winter in New Hampshire, I was six. Donned in my red and white checkered snowsuit, we attended festivities at Sargent Camp. (Rona, maybe you know it?) The blueberry pie looked delicious! How hard would it be to eat half a pie? My eyes were bigger than my stomach, since I, too threw up shortly after the contest. I wouldn't touch blueberry pie again until I was an adult!
Later in Grade 4, I had aspirations to be a spelling bee champ. Tripped on "engine"--a disaster!
I could never have entered a pie-eating contest because my mother’s pies surpassed all others (until my sister got into pies). There’s something so brain-scrambling about spelling bees that we word nerds blow the easy stuff. Engine! Well, another commenter here flubbed “little.” So it goes. Thank you for joining the conversation.
I love that caterjeunes/catterjoons is always a winner for someone! great essay.
Thanks, June. It should be a real word and is real to me.
Delightful, Rona! I laughed out loud at "The leviathan was near, alright."
Jeffrey, it’s a pleasure to share this with one who has a finely honed appreciation for the leviathan.
As a former dancer who worked on cruise ships and on stages in Paris, I'm so impressed that you got to be on a Broadway stage! Wow!
Looking back, Tracy, I’m pretty impressed myself. I’d take that Broadway appearance over any number of bylines but must admit to a secret hankering to lead a memoir group on a cruise ship.
I love this essay. it really made me smile.
I had many childhood dreams, most of them involving my marrying David Cassidy, Sean Cassidy, Bobby Sherman or Donny Osmond. I did meet Sean and Donny- when I interviewed them as a summer reporter at the Cape Cod Times. By then I dreamed of becoming a newspaper reporter. That happened! (I wonder how many college kids have that dream now?) (More like a nightmare, I fear.)
Smiles are hard to come by these days, so I’m delighted to send one your way. Or a few (even better). Aren’t you glad you married a different David instead of Mr. Cassidy?