2001-02-01 - 19:18 MST

February 1, 2001

Mike Fright

Sometimes I sift and scrabble through the gravel that is my shrinking memory, I can half remember things.

I guess I was in about the fifth grade, and being a good reader and the best speller in our class my ears perked up when I heard that there was going to be a spelling bee down town. On the big stage of one of the upscale movie theaters. I wish I could remember the radio personality who conducted it, he was near a kids ideal on our local radio station.

I put in for it, teetered and tottered wondering should I do it or should I back out ? I had never been on stage in front of an audience before, that worried me a bit. I was rather brash but wasn't sure if I was brassy enough to carry it off.

The day came, I dressed as neat as I could with Mom and Dad both on duty it was up to me to show the neighbors and the world that I could be clean, combed and dressed neatly. By golly I was, I did wear another shirt than the one Mom picked. Golly, a guy has to show his independence somehow. I also knew that I would be back home before Mom and Dad arrived and wouldn't be discovered in a shirt that Mom hadn't picked out.

The street car ride being a favorite joy of mine was great. I proudly walked up to the theater, went to the right entrance and went through the formality of registering (or something), they got my name anyway and steered me into the herd. They jockeyed us around until each name was given a number and told that when our turn came our number would be called, what a blessing that turned out to be -- anonymity.

Then they explained that two boys numbers would be called and words would be given until one goofed, then another boy would be called to replace him and go up to the microphone. MICROPHONE ? Holy katzenjammers I was terror stricken. I had thought this was going to be a nice, gentle competition as the spelling bees were that we took part in school, but man this was gonna be big time, noisy stuff.

When my turn came I walked out to the mike and was further embarrassed when the MC adjusted the mike down for me. Gosh, Shorty Mc Gee I was. I summoned up enough attention to hear the word given me, and shuddered as I could hear my voice come from the speakers loud enough for the world to hear it seemed.

I had four turns up there spelling down four kids and was becoming fairly comfortable and a bit confident. The next kid was called up and correctly spelled his word, as did I mine. This went on for about maybe three words and then my unseen nemesis hit me from behind - - - the MC gave me my word, "quietus," and not seeing my lips move or my my eyes blink he said it much louder. This profane little kid thought, "What in the blue damn hell is a kweyetus ?" A total unknown to me. In my consternation I made a trembly stab at it and was dropped out of the struggle.

I walked past the other kids who had been spelled down and were standing close to the stage and I kept on walking past the whole audience.

Back then boys didn't cry and a trickling tear was hidden at all costs. Out on the street I walked to my street car stop, waited a while and boarded my trolley when it came along.

There is no way I could describe the look on my face as I rode home because I was hidden back in the labyrinth of a crushed mind. I had failed myself and really didn't know how to cope with myself or my present condition. It wasn't so much that I had missed a word, I guess it was the audience, the lights, the microphone and all the hoopla that threw me for a loop -- but looped I was.

It would have been nice if Mom, Dad, Uncle or Aunt could have been there with me on the ride home. Even if nothing would have been said, I would have known a loving one was beside me.

I got off the street car and slouched and shuffled along home. Went in and took off my good clothes and put on my regular after school stuff and did my part of starting supper.

I guess that is what I needed, a breathing spell with my mind intent on a chore.

By the time Mom and Dad got home from work I was under control, not happy inside but in control on the outside and didn't give myself away when they asked me how I did at the bee. I told the truth and that I had encountered a word I didn't know and had been dropped.

As I was leaving the stage I heard my opponent spell the word correctly and looked it up in our dictionary when I got home. So I knew that "quietus" was a word from the Latin meaning final settlement of a debt. I was able to talk to Mom and Dad about it, and they clued me in on some of the usages of the word. I went to bed at the end of the evening and cogitated about the day just past. I was able to figure out my future reaction to embarrassment both outside and inside myself. I also learned to ask enough questions to learn the things I would encounter through school. and a good thing that I learned was how to also avoid embarrassing situations.

I even reached the stage where I could walk into the principals office and take my punishment calmly and respectfully knowing I deserved it and leaving when permitted and going my way.

In high school, in public speaking class I finally encountered and conquered an old enemy, and never again did I have Mike Fright . . . . . . .

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