Peter Buffa -- COMMENTS & CURIOSITIES

o7 “The beginning of eternity, the end of time and space, the beginning

of every end, and the end of every place.” What am I?

f7 Is that your final answer?

Right you are. The answer to last week’s riddle is indeed the letter ‘e.’

The first correct answer to land in my e-mail box was from longtime

Newport Beach resident Dee Turner, a retired nurse and proud mother of

four children and nine grandchildren.

After much thought about a fitting tribute to Dee’s impressive powers of

discernment, I offered her a two-week, first cabin cruise to Cancun and

Belize.

She graciously declined, and suggested I donate a gift certificate as a

prize for this year’s Spirit Run, which is being chaired by her

daughter-in-law, Nadine Turner.

Reluctantly, I agreed.

Very honorable mentions also go to these code crackers: Marylane Graham

(wife of the unabridged Bob Graham); Dudley Johnson of Newport Beach;

Mary Fewel (community newsletter celeb); Mike Lawler of Newport Beach;

Costa Mesa’s cop at the top, Dave Snowden; and her former mayoress, Mary

Ruth Hornbuckle.

Congratulations to all. You have represented yourself, your families and

your country well -- even those of you who told me the riddle was so easy

it was dumb. And don’t think I’ll forget that.

Speaking of riddles and “final answers,” what about these new game shows?

Geez Louise.

“Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” and “Twenty-One” have become what is

known in the vid biz as “monsters.”

Almost overnight, the two shows are racking up audience numbers usually

reserved for the Oscars and major sporting events. Interesting, no?

Game shows have been a staple of commercial television since it began

more than 50 years ago. They are alive and well today. “The Price is

Right,” “Jeopardy,” “Wheel of Fortune,” et al, and they will always be

with us.

So why the big buzz about these two new shows? It’s certainly not the

hosts, both of whom are household names. Regis Philbin is very

entertaining on “Millionaire.” And “Twenty-One’s” Maury Povich is

pleasant enough.

And it’s definitely not the content. Most of the questions are pretty

routine. The real answer is that these aren’t just any game shows. Big

money game shows can ignite a firestorm because they plug into a

universal fantasy -- the same compelling attraction, however foolish,

that drives the Lottery: “If only I could hit the big one!”

Winning a dishwasher or a trip to wherever is fine, but what these shows

offer is a whole new life. We all know that’s nonsense, of course, but

it’s fun to pretend.

There’s another twist to these things, however, which is particularly

interesting to aging, couch-ridden television junkies like myself.

They are revivals of a specific type of game show that ruled the airwaves

in the mid-50s, then disappeared in 1959 as abruptly as the dinosaurs --

the “Big Money” game show.

To 50-and-ups like me, there is a very familiar ring to these things.

Four “Big Money” shows took America by storm in the 1950s: “The $64,000

Question” and a spinoff called “The $64,000 Challenge;” “The $100,000 Big

Surprise,” emceed by a young man named Mike Wallace; and “Twenty-One,” of

which the current incarnation is an exact replica -- isolation booths and

all.

Keep in mind, these shows were throwing around huge dollar amounts for

the 1950s. A luxury car cost about $6,000 and $25,000 was an outrageous

sum to spend on a house.

Audiences loved the shows and sponsors loved the size of the audiences.

The big winners, and big losers, became national celebrities. It was

near-rapture for all, until a little man with big glasses named Herbert

Stempel showed up.

Stempel had been a contestant on “Twenty-One.” His name may not ring a

bell, but the name of the man who toppled him from the top slot on

“Twenty-One” rings a Chinese gong with a sledgehammer for people my age:

Charles Van Doren.

In 1958, Stempel went public with a detailed account of how winners, and

losers, had not only been given the questions and answers in advance, but

had been carefully rehearsed in how to agonize over their answers.

Ouch. Before long, Stempel was warbling like Mario Lanza to the New York

district attorney, a grand jury and, finally, a Congressional inquiry.

By the time it was over, careers and lives were destroyed, with

indictments, prison terms and at least one suicide.

“Let’s see, I’ll take ‘Get Me Out of Here!’ for two hundred, Bob.”

If Charles Van Doren was ethically challenged, he was also one of the

best actors in the history of television. Hippos deliver babies with less

effort than he gave answers. He mumbled and grimaced and beaded sweat

like a light rain on Turtle Wax.

By 1959, big money game shows had vanished. Standards like “I’ve Got a

Secret,” “What’s My Line?,” “Name that Tune,” and “To Tell the Truth,”

would go on for years and years, but the big money shows were no more --

until, that is, this very year.

So for TV junkies like me, when it comes to the new “Twenty-One” and

“Millionaire,” it’s deja vu all over again -- to borrow a line from Yogi

Berra.

The bells and whistles are far more high-tech, as one would expect, but

the look and feel are very familiar. The questions have been dumbed down

considerably, but that’s as much a reflection of the times as the shows.

Being a fountainhead of utterly useless information, I can’t tell you how

many people have urged me over the years to try my hand at a game show.

But knowing a little about how television works, I try to caution others,

and myself, about being a little too smug.

Knowing which ocean thing is a fish and which is a mammal may be easy

from the warm nest of your recliner. But once you’re trapped in a strange

environment, under glaring lights with 40 or 50 million people watching,

it’s amazing how quickly you can forget what kind of car you drive.

Game shows are a test of nerves, not knowledge. So the next time you see

someone blow this question -- “Which of the following was a U.S.

president: Steven Tyler, John Tyler, Mary Tyler Moore or Liv Tyler?” --

go easy on them.

And please, don’t send me the right answer.

I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs Fridays. He

can be reached via e-mail at o7 [email protected] .