(More) Frozen on the Wheel of Fortune

The other day my TV was frozen on the Wheel of Fortune.  There were so many other things it could have been: The Price is Right, Who Wants to Be A Millionaire, The Dating Game even.  But instead, I got endless Vanna.

The remote was stuck on mute, too, the final result of too many sticky fingers fondling the buttons.  So, I guess I shouldn’t complain about the Wheel of Fortune – at least I could follow along.  Except following requires some modicum of attention, some investment in whether your guess is wrong or right, whether the prize could have been yours.

I confess to having neither attention nor investment.  I’m not even sure I had any brain cells active at that point.

The house was stupidly quiet without the kids.  Tracey had bundled up every last Barbie doll for her overnight with Stacey.  Watching Vanna move across the stage I wondered how her proportions compared to Barbie’s.  There couldn’t be too much difference there.  Fortunately, Tracey would never have that problem – which only meant, of course, that she’d have a million others.

Steven was on an overnight as well, probably having similar thoughts about the ways women’s bodies curve, extend, and protrude.  Or, rather, variations on the theme.  The geeky contestant who was leading the game reminded me of Steven, giving me hope.  Yes, there really are boys who survive their teenage years.

Barbara had been gone three years now.  She hardly ever called now, her life so full of whatever it is young women fill it with these days.  Different than my college days.  So different.

The guy running the show – was it Bob Barker?  I think all the game show hosts are Bob Barker -  I realized he reminded me of Don.  No one had reminded me of Don in a long time.  No one and everyone.  I tried not to think of him since he ran off with the raccoon lady.  But that Bob Barker smile, the one that says everything is grand and simple and either you’re on top of the world or else you’re dog meat – Don had that smile.

The girl who was losing – yeah, that one was me.  Bright smile pasted over expectations that once seemed so possible, and now just seemed foolish.  That “I can stick this out” clench to her jaw, the too pale caste to her skin.  The willingness to keep playing the game you’ve already lost just for the sake of the ratings.  Yup, that’s me.