Name This Photo ~the backstory

The video above will give you an idea of how Jamie and I spent our ninth anniversary. That's not us in the video (thank goodness), but it is the same stage where we participated, and that event was one of the challenges we "enjoyed".

It started with a business trip to Los Angeles. We both had some work out there, and originally had planned to come home just as soon as we were done. At the last minute we decided to stick around for one more day and spend it together. It was our only day without work obligations. We rented a car. We bought sunscreen. We had so many options but only one day to complete them. After kicking around lots of fine culture ideas -- museums, theater, art galleries -- we finally settled on a choice. High culture lost. Pop culture won. We went to Universal Studios.

We did the typical things. Toured the backlot. Rode the new Simpsons ride. Watched the Shrek 3-D movie. In general we were having a pleasant enough time and feeling like teenagers again. While eating lunch we heard an announcement over the PA that casting calls for the Fear Factor -Live! show would begin in fifteen minutes.

"Let's do it," Jamie said to me through a wide-eyed smile.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. C'mon. It'll be fun"

"I dunno about the food part, Jamie. I don't think I can do that."

"Sure you can. C'mon. It'll be an adventure."

"OK. But we make a pinkie promise. Either they pick us both or they pick neither of us. Deal?"

"Deal."

We were picked. Me, Jamie, and four guys from California. It wasn't as tough as we thought it would be. There were six slots available. Six of us showed up. That's it. So we all were in. Who says Hollywood is tough to crack?

I won't go into the minutiae of the show. Those details are much better when Jamie and I act them out. But I can tell you this. It involved hanging from thirty feet in the air, reaching into a tank full of live eels, maneuvering across a spinning floor, struggling with American Gladiator-style opponents, flying around the stage tethered only to a very thin cable, an inverted bicycle-thingie, electricity (LOTS of electricity), and, of course, a smoothie. Ahhh, the smoothie.

No need to offend you with what was in the smoothie. I'm sure you've probably got some idea. Multiply that thought by a hundred. I still can taste it. Uggh.

But the worst part? Well, there's two things actually.

The first are those awful spandex outfits. I think I would have preferred to be naked. You know the dream where you walk into a room, then become horrified because you realize everyone is dressed and you're as nude as the day you were born? I have that dream several times a year. I lived it last week. I need therapy now.

And the second? This requires a short story from the show.

At the start of the show they had us lined up backstage. Our only instruction was to run out on stage "and show some energy. We've got a packed house of a little over two thousand." OK. Now I'm nervous. And naked.

We run out on stage. Five guys and Jamie. Four of them from California with family and friends rooting them on. Jamie is the only girl. And then me. And all I can think is, "just don't embarrass yourself." Too late. The spandex sold me out on that one.

The hosts start on Jamie's end with the introductory interviews. One of the California guys is first.

"Give it up for Mike everybody!" The host is working the crowd.

Mike gets a few cheers. Not overwhelming but certainly respectable. He says something, but I don't really remember what it was because all I could do was think about how ridiculous I must be looking. Next is Jamie.

I figured since she was the only female the crowd would pull for her. Boy did they ever.

"And how about a hand for Jamie," shouts the host.

Eruption. Yells. Whistles. Thunderous ovation. Two thousand people stand and cheer as if Jamie just hit the game winning homerun in Game 7 of the World Series. She was quite charming, and I was glad to see her finally get a chance to use her theater degree in Hollywood. I was very proud of her.

The other contestants are introduced, and while none received the ovation that Jamie got, they all had nice little fan clubs in the audience. I was happy for them as well.

Finally the judge came to me. "Be humble and witty and charming. Be humble and witty and charming. Be humble and witty and charming," I whispered to myself. I was definitely nervous and my mind was racing. Or perhaps the tight pants had just cut off circulation to my brain.

"And how about a big cheer for Jamie's husband Will !!!!!"

Here comes my moment. My time to shine. I'm going to be discovered now and my life will change forever!

I lift my head and step forward.

Crickets. Nada. Nothing. SILENCE. In a room full of people -- have I mentioned it was over two thousand? -- not a single person cheered for me. They did not clap. They did not whistle. They did not yell. They did nothing. I brought the show to a screeching halt before it ever really began. It was now quite obvious that I wasn't as witty and charming as I thought. But I couldn't quit, so I mumbled something stupid and got off the stage as quickly as I could.

Not only was I naked. I was insignificant. At least to this crowd. As I climbed the stairs to get to my platform where the first event would take place, I began repeating my mantra, "It's never as good as it seems. It's never as bad as it seems." Moments later the platform fell out from beneath me and I was left dangling from a bar, thirty feet in the air, with no choice but to hold on. I didn't know how long I could do it, or how the people beside me would fare. Only time would sort that out.

I guess it was an odd little metaphor for what had just happened, and for what was about to happen. Crazy stuff shows up in life, and it's usually not the way we expect it. Especially when we try things we're not accustomed to doing. We're cheered, revered, ridiculed, ignored -- often all in one day. But we keep moving forward. So that's what I did.

Oh, and the significance of the photo? That's me and Christian. We made it to the finals.

He won, and I was happy for him. Yeah, it would've been nice to win. It would've been nice to thumb my nose at that crowd, show them that I could succeed even without their affection. But who really cares. Nobody there would've remembered anything about that show the next day. Nor would they care. And the prize wasn't really that great anyway. But deep down, I knew I didn't quit, and that I did the best I could.

I got much more out of this adventure with my wife than potential victory on a live version of a show that is no longer on the air. I had a fun time with my best friend on our anniversary, and now I've -- we've -- got a pretty cool story to share at parties.

If you've read this far, thank you. I wish you the best. I hope you got a little chuckle out of this.

Now, go try something scary, then come back and tell me all about it!


~wj