April 18, 2005: West Virginia Pyramid

I had a dream.

In my dream, I was a contestant on The 100,000 Pyramid with Dick Clark.

And in my dream, Governor Joe Manchin was my partner in the second round.

Dick Clark beckoned us into the “Winner’s Circle” to play the bonus game. Dick spoke:

“Ok. Who is going to give and who’s gonna receive?” Dick asked.

“Help is on the way!” Governor Manchin cackled.

I cast my eyes toward the floor and replied, “I’ll give.”

Dick then reminded us of the rules:

“You have 60 seconds to guess each of the correct answers to the six categories. Work your way to the top of the pyramid. If you get stuck on any category, pass it. Come back to it later if you have time. Remember, don’t use any of the words in the category as your clues, or any forms of the word or you’ll hear this (that’s when the “Coo-coo” noise sounded). Ok. Does anyone have any questions?”

“West Virginia is now open for business!” the Governor blurted.

“No,” I answered.

“I know you’ll both do great,” grinned Dick, as he patted me on my right shoulder. “Relax. The clock starts when you’re ready.”

“Ready,” I said, my pulse was now racing.

“First subject,” shouted Dick, “and the clock starts now!”

The first category is always the easiest, I thought, and I was not disappointed as I began giving the clues to the Governor:

“Well,” I began, “I think one of the more pressing issues this session is tongue-splitting, and I’m gonna introduce a bill to stop it. I also think we should sneak a provision into a bill that makes English our official language.”

“Things a West Virginia legislator says,” said Governor Manchin, and I heard the bright, loud “ding” that resulted in the next clue’s reveal.

“Stay cool,” I told myself, “You can do this.” I then rattled off three quick suggestions: “Invite Three Dog Night to play the inaugural,” “Get Pvt. Jessica Lynch’s cell phone number,” “Hand out giant, cardboard Powerball checks!”

“Oh,” a nonplussed Governor Manchin responded, “Perks of my job?” Did I hear that bell? Yes! his answer counted! The judge had accepted “perks” as correct for the second category. My dream was, indeed, going very, very well.

“Casino gambling, breastfeeding in public!” I continued as my heart pounded. Governor Manchin sat still and replied “West Virginia bills that go pffffftt!”

“Wow, he really nailed that one,” I said to myself, “Maybe ‘help’ is on the way.” But we didn’t have much time left, and although this was my dream, I still knew we would have to execute our game perfectly to nab my $100,000.

“Scarce Things” proved more challenging than the previous categories combined.

“Secure jobs with health benefits,” I began.

“What I’ll bring to West Virginia,” answered our Governor.

“Mountain Party members,” I next suggested.

“Things you find only in Kanawha County,” he stated. Warmer, but still no disco inferno.

“Federal buildings and roads not named for Senator Robert Byrd,” I offered.

“Things you rarely find in West Virginia,” replied the Governor. Ding!

“Lessons from Bob Wise,” the fifth category, was a “softball” with several possibilities: Those personal e-mails, angering the teacher’s union, nasty shotgun recoils. But “Don’t clog in public” was all I needed to say before Governor Manchin interrupted me with “Things I learned not to do from Governor Wise!” I noticed that when he guessed this category that his voice displayed a trace of emotion. But he maintained his same composure in his seat.

We had burned substantial time on the “Scarce Things” category, and I sensed trouble when the final category, which was “Things You Eliminate” appeared above in the 1970s orange-colored box. Even in my dream, the producers managed to select an impossibly abstract category for the final test. We had fewer than 20 seconds now. And I was worried. I began with what I thought was the most obvious suggestion:

“Third-party, bad-faith lawsuits against insurance firms,” I blurted.

“Things you prevent,” said Joe.

Uh-oh. My mind went momentarily blank, and all I could muster was the clue “The word ‘can’ from a state worker’s vocabulary.”

“Executive decisions I’ve made,” replied West Virginia’s Governor.

I could hear the ticking of the clock, as the game’s remaining seconds dwindled. “He’s on the wrong track, now,” I thought, “I need to suggest something different--fast.”

“Tie-dyed clothes from a state worker’s wardrobe,” I said. My voice was urgent. How many seconds were left? Ten? Eight?

“Ugly things. . . nasty things. . . horrible things for West Virginia” guessed the Governor. He continued to sit still, but his cool exterior could not mask his frustration. I would have to try yet another suggestion.

“Charlotte Pritt!” I stammered.

“Things you defeat?” questioned Joe. He was really confused.

“Your opponent. . . your competition. . .” Now I was screaming. My hands had broken the seat straps that had held them down as required by the game’s rules. (Don’t ask me why the game continued, either, it was my dream.)

“Things you conquer. . .things you overcome. . .things. . . .” he kept guessing. And, finally, I think that there were only a couple seconds left when I finally resorted to the only clue that came to my mind:

“YOUR POOP!” I yelled, “YOUR POOP!”

“Things you eliminate?!?” responded West Virginia’s Governor.

Then the bells and music sounded, and I remember reaching toward Governor Manchin to hug him. But he didn’t rise from his seat, nor did he move to reciprocate my hug. And I was screaming, “Help IS on the way, Governor Manchin, help IS on the way!!!” because I knew that after taxes on my winnings--which would reduce my recovery to about $70,000--I could now afford to pay for my gasoline for at least the next couple years, as well as my family’s increasing gas and heating bills and living expenses.

Then I awoke. And apparently I had talked in my sleep because I had to explain to my wife who “Joe” was.