This is the first in what may end up being a series of posts in which I recall a random experience which I will probably never do again.

Way back in the year 2000, I auditioned for the game show Win Ben Stein’s Money.

If you don’t remember the show, it was sort of like Jeopardy! except, after the first round (which eliminated one contestant), Ben Stein (who in past lives has been a presidential speechwriter, a lawyer, and the teacher who gets hung up on Ferris Bueller’s name) joins the game to prove to you that he’s smarter than you are. Here’s a random sample:

I was a fan of the show, but more important, I was young and cocky enough to believe that my ability to answer these questions in the comforts of my tiny dorm room meant that I would be a worthy adversary for Stein. I was certain that I would easily prove myself in whatever testing regimen they administered and the staffers, recognizing my brilliance, would quickly usher me onto the set to test my mettle against the man himself.

After a long bus ride with several transfers (I didn’t yet own a car), I found myself at Hollywood Center Studios and walked up to the security kiosk.

I gave my name and told the guard what I was there for, and he motioned, without looking, toward a large, warehouse-like soundstage.

“In there.”

I thanked him and walked toward the soundstage, noticing as I did that there was a steady stream of people filtering in and out, more than I might have anticipated.

The moment I stepped inside, I felt, for the first time, that I might have misjudged the proceedings.

Hundreds of people (well, probably 200) were filing about or sitting at the cafeteria-style benches within the otherwise empty stage, chatting or drinking coffee as they waited for the first round of testing. They looked like they were from all walks of life, some young, some old, but all of them older than me.

It doesn’t matter, I thought to myself. Just more people for me to beat on my way to Ben.

I sat at one of the benches and struck up a conversation with some of the people around me. Among them were a history professor, a screenwriter, and a housewife who had not only auditioned for, but been on Jeopardy!, although I didn’t get a chance to find out if she had won.

A few minutes later, staffers from the show began handing out exams and pencils, and everyone began to mentally prepare. The staffers warned that the exam process for this show was “tougher than Jeopardy,” because while Jeopardy! required a certain level of knowledge, what they were looking for were people who could beat Ben Stein.

That was the second time I felt that I might have misjudged the proceedings, as I thought back to all of the episodes of the show I had watched. I felt that I was capable of answering questions faster and more accurately than the people around me. But how many times would I have beaten Ben Stein in the final round? I began to doubt myself, ever briefly. Maybe I was not, in fact, smart enough for this.

It doesn’t matter, I thought. Just focus on the test.

The test began, and I flipped through, quickly scanning to see what questions I could answer immediately.

There weren’t many.

From that point on, the test itself remains a blur to me, although I recall spending much of that time going through my own version of the five stages of grief at my hubris for thinking that I was prepared for this. By the time the test was over, I had already reached acceptance, and figured that my chances of moving on were slim.

Mercifully, the process was over quickly, and we all sat around and discussed the test as we waited for the staff to grade our work and announce who would be moving on to the second round, a mock round of the actual show. All agreed that the test was challenging, including the housewife who acknowledged that yes, this test was much harder than the one administered on Jeopardy!

Eventually, the staffers returned and announced the names of the people who would be moving on. Out of the two hundred who had taken the test, they announced four names.

I, naturally, was not on the list. The professor was. The housewife was not.

We all filed out and said our goodbyes, never to see one another again, and I got back on the bus, beginning the long trek back to my dorm room. I was disappointed, to be sure, and somewhat humbled by the experience, although by the time I got back to campus I remembered that I had a party to go to that night, which cheered me up, and the experience was filed away and generally not thought of again, until now.

This is the second in what can now officially be called a multi-part series of short insights that occur to me when I take a look at my life from a statistical point of view.

The Statistic:  Of all the weddings/wedding receptions I have been invited to in my adult life, the percentage of divorces for the ones I have been unable to attend is over 80%.

How Weird Is That?  I guess with the divorce rate these days (Studies estimate that approx. 30% of first marriages end in divorce within the first ten years), it’s not that weird. The percentage of weddings I have attended, however, is much lower, as is my overall rate (which is under 15% in total).

What Does It Mean?  Again, probably not a whole lot. Thinking upon the individual weddings/receptions that I could not attend, the reasons were almost always financial or work-related as to why I could not attend. There was only one wedding that I did not attend because I explicitly didn’t want to go (that one, incidentally, ended in divorce).

Taking this evidence alongside Part 1 and something I may discuss in Part 3 (if there is a Part 3), there is a slight case to be made that I am, in fact, a harbinger of love/doom, and that my blessing upon ye can make or break your own marital bliss. But all of the evidence is generally circumstantial to this point, and should not be taken seriously until further evidence can be collected.

What Have I Learned? I have been to a LOT of weddings. Which makes me wonder where all my frequent flier miles have gone.

 

This is the first in a potentially multi-part series of short insights that occur to me when I take a look at my life from a statistical point of view.

The Statistic:  For about a five year period in my life, every woman I dated subsequently met/dated/married their husband immediately following our “relationship”.

How Weird Is That?  Weird enough that I still remember it several years later.

What Does It Mean?  Hard to say, exactly. First off, it’s important to point out that this isn’t an inherently large sample size, so there’s a pretty big chance of this being somewhat random.

It is important to point out, however, that the length of the relationship doesn’t seem to matter, since these “relationships” varied from a single date (which is why “relationship” is in quotes – that doesn’t really count as much of anything) to not quite a year.

It is probably more of an insight into the type of women I was meeting/dating at the time – or at least, where most of them tended to be in their lives – in all likelihood, they were starting to get to the point where they wanted to settle down, whereas I most certainly was not (a fact which directly led to the end of one of these aforementioned relationships). Verification of this theory, however, seems unlikely, as the women did not respond to requests for comment.

What Have I Learned?  Not much, probably. Besides understanding what this says about where my own emotional space was during this period of time (when marriage/settling down was not something I was particularly worried about), this statistical trend probably is more about my greater social circle at the time than anything else. For example, further analysis doesn’t suggest that my “type” has changed significantly, which means that the circumstances around me are more than likely responsible for the shift.

On that note, the end of this period in time also happened to coincide with moderate changes in living, financial, and social circumstances, so really all this does is point to a specific point in my life as a pivot moment for me.  But more on that later.

So Was This Exercise Worth It?  Maybe. It’s an interesting way to consider the past, I think. If I can identify other interesting trends I’ll continue.