FINAL JEOPARDY MEMORIES

FINAL JEOPARDY MEMORIES

By Mike Moffett

The Final Jeopardy Answer is “Alex Trebek.”

The Final Jeopardy Question is at the end of this column.

Suffering from pancreatic cancer, Trebek is transitioning away from the Jeopardy television game show he’s hosted for over 35 years. During that time the avuncular Trebek endeared himself to countless Americans who got smarter while watching regular people seek fame and fortune on his iconic show. Trebek’s nightly Jeopardy drama was and is a living room staple for many families. So Trebek’s health struggles impact millions of people who “know” him but have never met him—as well as those who HAVE met him.

Like me.

I was a Jeopardy contestant.

As a Marine Corps lieutenant stationed at Camp Pendleton, California, back in the eighties, I found myself watching Jeopardy and knowing many of the answers—or questions, actually, if you know how the game works. So I headed up to a Jeopardy tryout in Los Angeles, joining a big crowd of wannabes for a 50-question test. The tests were corrected and most people were sent home, but they kept a few of us for an audition, and then sent us home as well.

A few days later I received a call inviting me to be a Jeopardy contestant. As Jeopardy taped five shows a session I was encouraged to bring a change of clothes.

Dreaming of fame and fortune, I sped up I-5 to L.A., my Marine Corps dress blues hanging behind the driver's seat. At the studio, would-be contestants were sequestered during preparations for the first taping—for which I was invited to be a contestant. Apparently a New Englander/Marine officer combination was desirable to the show’s producers.

I asked if I could change into my dress blues and they said yes, but I’d then have to wait for a later taping. So I got into uniform and watched three tapings with growing angst. They had great categories and I would have won all three shows. Why did I ever ask to wear a uniform?

I got the call for the fourth taping and took my place between Rocky, the defending champion, and a woman who was a member of the Mensa (genius) Society. Trebek bantered with the crowd and had some lights adjusted as it dawned on me that I was now positioned to humiliate myself on national television. I had a panic attack, which changed to abject horror when I saw the first round of categories—obscure subjects about which I knew little. Rocky flew out to a big lead followed by the Mensa woman as I lamented passing on the first taping.

But then Trebek did his contestant interviews and we chatted about New Hampshire. His calming demeanor dissipated my panic and when I saw the next set of categories I figuratively licked my chops. The “Civil War” was very good to me and I made a charge and took the lead, with time for one more question. I chose “Golf” for $600.

“Of the Ryder, Curtis, and Walker Cups, the Trophy competed for by women.”

As a sports guy, I knew the Ryder Cup was a male competition so I buzzed in and said “What is the Curtis Cup?” But I immediately knew I should have said “Walker” and I lost $600. The Mensa lady buzzed in and said “What is the Ryder Cup” which was obviously wrong. So Rocky, by default, buzzed in and said “What is the Walker Cup?” thus winning $600. The $1200 swing gave him a slight lead going into Final Jeopardy, for which the category was “In the News.”

A news watcher, I bet all my thousands and waited for the answer, which was “The Year of a New Pope, a Test Tube Baby, and when Oscar turned 50.” I confidently wrote: “What is 1978?”

The Mensa lady got it wrong and Trebek then came to me and reviewed my answer.

“What is 1978? That is correct. And what did the lieutenant bet? He bet it all!”

The studio audience erupted with applause, apparently pulling for the Marine from New Hampshire who made the big comeback and then successfully bet it all.

“Wow!” exclaimed Trebek. “A lot of support here for the Marines!”

My heart was joyful. I’d done it! The only way I could lose was if Rocky bet all his money and if he also got it right.

Which he did.

The crushing defeat devastated me. The show ended and the lights went down and Trebek came over to chat with us and his generous comments eased my pain, and presumably that of the Mensa lady too. Trebek clearly had special empathy for the losers on his show who put themselves out there only to fail on national TV.

Rocky would keep all his money and return again as defending champ. I later learned that Trebek hired him as an assistant. My second place prize was a La-Z-Boy recliner, which still occupies a “reading nook” in my Loudon home.

I never watched Jeopardy again. Too painful.

Except once, when “60 Minutes” did a feature on the show, which interested me, as an erstwhile Jeopardy alum. They showed footage from a show, of course, and of all the thousands of shows from which to choose, they selected the one I’d been on. There I was, again on national TV, in my dress blues between Rocky and the Mensa lady.

While insisting on wearing my uniform probably cost me fame and fortune, I remain proud of those dress blues, which now hang in a closet not far from my Jeopardy chair.

C’est la vie.

Oh yeah. Our Final Jeopardy Question:

“What TV game show host will always be remembered for his kindness and empathy to a terrified Marine Corps lieutenant from New Hampshire?”

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Union Leader Story

https://www.unionleader.com/news/local/veterans-honored-in-state-s-memorial-day-ceremonies/article_785e0c73-7638-5a6f-966a-1f76b2a88616.html

Education Industrial Complex

My Turn: Beware the education-industrial complex

By MICHAEL MOFFETT

For the Monitor

Published: 4/29/2019 12:15:09 AM

President Dwight Eisenhower’s 1961 farewell address remains consequential. A five-star general, Ike warned of the dangers of the military-industrial complex – an informal alliance between our military and business establishments. This relationship between the government and “defense” corporations benefited both sides – one obtaining redundant and extravagant war weaponry while the other made huge profits from supplying it all. Taxpayers anteed up accordingly.

A soldier and patriot, Ike saw the military-industrial complex as a threat. Veterans who’d been in harm’s way echoed Ike’s sentiments. Those who committed their lives to our nation’s defense saw that pledge as sacred, and like Ike, had contempt for war profiteers safely seeking to get rich while paying lip service to national security.

Now in 2019 we must similarly shine a light on an education-industrial complex, which like the military-industrial complex involves special interest alliances seeking to materially and politically benefit from a supposed advocacy for youngsters and teaching – when in reality this alliance threatens education.

Consider Democratic presidential candidate Kamala Harris’s recent call for a $13,500 or a 23% increase in salary for each teacher nationwide. That’s good politics in that her proposal mobilizes countless educators for her candidacy.

Harris – a lawyer – has spent minimal time in the education trenches. So let’s see her proposal for what it is – a craven, cynical and unaffordable exploitation of teachers. But committing teachers’ unions to liberal causes worked well for California Democrats, while public school enrollments – and test scores – dropped. The sordid mess that California became under Democratic rule rates much attention – but that’s another column.

Consider the recent calls of Democratic presidential candidates Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren to refinance or forgive college student loan debt while making public colleges tuition-free.

The student debt debacle is of Democratic making. As college costs shot up – largely due to exorbitant salaries – Democrats were at the forefront to make money available for student loans. Students subsequently went deeply into debt. But the beneficiaries were college faculties and administrators, whose pay skyrocketed. The more loan money the government made available, the more colleges spent, while professors redirected much largesse back to Democratic politicians. Campaign contributions are public record. It’s a shameful shell game. And yet many proselytized college students pathetically voted for Democrats. But they’re finally figuring out that they’ve been fleeced by the folks they supported.

Having enriched their academic allies and advanced their political agendas while putting students deeply in debt, Sanders and Warren typically now want to leave taxpayers on the hook.

Ponder that Warren “earned” $429,981 as a part-time Harvard law professor during 2010-11. Or that Sanders’s wife, Jane, made hundreds of thousands of dollars while mismanaging Burlington College into bankruptcy. Or that many New Hampshire school superintendents make more than our governor.

Education-industrial complex indeed!

Like war profiteers who wrapped themselves in the flag to position themselves to make money, education profiteers cite “the children” as they seek to redirect public money to themselves.

The percentage of school budgets that actually go to classroom teachers is smaller than ever. Check out how much money now goes to administrators, bureaucrats, lawyers, lobbyists, consultants, accountants, “support” personnel and the like, not to mention numerous other budget line items that rate more attention. But rather than make tough choices to support education fundamentals or protect taxpayers, school boards err on the side of “the children” as property taxes go ever higher.

This plays into Democrat hands, as Dems call for broad-based taxes – ostensibly for “property tax relief.” The reality is that new taxes allow Democrats to expand government and hire countless more public-sector workers who then become Democratic voters.

Many of us who devoted our lives to education did so not to get rich or to advance political agendas, but rather to enjoy the intrinsic rewards associated with making differences in people’s lives. So it’s painful to see a liberal education-industrial complex convert our academic establishments into subsidiaries of the Democratic Party.

It may be good politics, but it’s not good for taxpayers or for traditional Granite State educational priorities and values.

Or for “the children.”

I’m sure Ike would agree.

(Michael Moffett of Loudon is a retired Marine Corps officer who also taught in public, parochial and military schools, as well as at the community college and university levels. He served on a school board as well as on the House Education Committee.)

White House Visit

A SPORTS TRIP TO THE WHITE HOUSE

by Mike Moffett

The e-mail from the White House naturally caught my eye when I reviewed the numerous messages that congregate daily in my electronic in-box. It was an invite to a May 21 Washington, D.C. event where President Trump would recognize 2017 NASCAR champion driver Martin Truex, as well as a NASCAR Nation that overwhelmingly voted for Trump to be president.

This was in contrast to the NBA Champion Golden State Warriors and their fans who overwhelmingly voted against Trump and who eschewed a White House visit.

Having never met the president, I pondered why I’d received the invitation. Perhaps he or his staff read the Weirs Times on-line. Or, more likely, it was related to the fact that I’m a sports columnist and a New Hampshire State Representative who lives about a mile from our wonderful NASCAR track—the New Hampshire Motor Speedway in Loudon.

I checked my calendar and then RSVP’d my appreciation for the invitation and replied that of course I’d come to the White House.

I shared the news with my spouse Beth—who is much smarter than me. She did not feel compelled to make the D.C. trip, but encouraged me to attend if I wanted to. Then she asked to see the invite, and noted that my name was misspelled.

“You didn’t send them any personal information did you?” she asked.

I stood slack-jawed.

“Please tell me you didn’t respond!”

I had to admit that I’d sent them all my personal contact information, date of birth, social security number, etc.

“That’s how identities are stolen! You’d better check with the White House or you’ll need to change all your credit cards and bank account numbers.”

Trusting soul that I am, I realized that I’d likely been snookered and would have to deal with the awful consequences of identity theft.

But then I got an acknowledgement and more information from the White House Social Office.

“If the Russians or whoever already have my identity, then why would they keep writing?”

“Are they still misspelling your name? Do they want more personal information?”

“No. They just told me about dress code, White House security measures, and which gate to go to.”

“Hmmmm.”

OFF TO D.C.

When the invitation proved to be real, I made travel plans. Greater D.C. is my old stomping ground from my days as a Marine in Quantico, Va. And as a former social studies teacher, I love the area’s history. I’d been by the White House many times, but never inside its grounds.

So on May 21 I found a great parking spot on Constitution Avenue in time to do some sight-seeing before the White House event. Washington can be deadly hot from May through September, and the 85 degree temps made traipsing around in my suitcoat a bit taxing, but I was happy to be there.

To some, Washington, D.C. personifies politics and power and many of our lesser angels. Indeed, many think of it as a corrupt swamp needing drainage. That those lesser angels are busy and active throughout the District of Columbia is oft-apparent. But a walk-about also reminds one of what Abraham Lincoln referred to as our “better angels.” Our national capital, with all its monuments, edifices, history, and spirit represents unparalleled achievement.

While many of the District’s permanent denizens may be oblivious to Washington’s mystique, its wide-eyed visitors always inspire me with their excitement and awe. Some Dutch tourists chatted me up while we walked along the ellipse. They were clearly delighted to be visiting our American capital and I hoped that our country, with all its imperfections, might always inspire the wonder that was so evident on their faces.

I briefly stopped by the White House Visitors Center at 1450 Pennsylvania Avenue to absorb some history and charge my cell phone. As a shameless Facebook devotee, I anticipating doing texts, photos, e-mails, tweets and live-streaming from the White House and wanted my Droid to be fully juiced!

GETTING INSIDE

Finally, I headed to the designated gate, along with other NASCAR invitees. I naturally expected tight security, but the measures surpassed my expectations. There were four check-points and search areas, with attendant metal detectors and the like. But my name was on every list and in I went.

I walked through part of the East Wing to a door that led out to the South Lawn for the NASCAR event. I thrilled to the sounds of the Marine Band, the “President’s Own,” the best band in the world. I mingled briefly with guests and then moved to the shade of a giant tree, beneath which the band played a medley of fabulous tunes. I live-streamed the awesome music while literally standing in the midst of the uniformed musicians, allowing my Facebook friends a chance to not only hear great music, but actually see the players—up close and personal.

The South Lawn grass was lush and extra-long, though not as long as the grass on the ellipse south of the South Lawn, which was almost a hayfield. (Mr. President, when you read this, please address the situation. In fact, I’d recommend you getting on a lawn tractor yourself and doing the mowing. Great optics!)

TRUMP SPEAKS

Finally the band played “Hail to the Chief” and the president emerged from the White House with Truex and the driver’s family members and race team.

President Trump is clearly an “alpha male” who draws energy from crowds and who relishes his job. Love him or hate him, he projects exuberance. He used notes but largely spoke extemporaneously. He praised NASCAR and the Truex team and also noted that NASCAR fans don’t take a knee during the national anthem—a thinly-veiled dig against last year’s NFL protesters.

Truex then offered a few gracious comments, and everyone got in line for photos with the Commander-in-Chief.

Given the heat and the length of the line, I demurred. I took a few more photos and headed out while the band played “Semper Fidelis.” I wanted to experience more of that wonderful D.C. history. Getting out was easy compared to getting in.

After flying back to New Hampshire I told Beth I was glad I went. My spouse—who is much smarter than me—said she was happy for me.

But she added that if I ended up a victim of identity theft, then at least she’d know who did it!

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