Today at 7 P.M., the glorious cultural phenomenon that is Jeopardy was on TV, just like it so reliably is every weekday on ABC. It always comes on right before Wheel of Fortune, which I think of as Jeopardy's semi-retarded, state-school attending cousin who wears Hawaiian shirts. And just like a steaming hot mug of soup on a blustery winter day, the always classy Alex Trebek and the good ol' Jeopardy theme song soothe my soul. Ahhh, trivia.
But why is this so? Am I jealous of the contestants and their vast knowledge? Sure, they can immediately figure out that KMQT is KUMQUAT without vowels ("What is KUMQUAT!???" Good. For. You.), but sometimes, I can too. And whenever I scream out the answer a little too loudly in my roommate's ear just to find I was wrong, I can shrink back in my seat and think "Whatever, at least I don't wear 2-inch-thick glasses and arrange my insect collection on a Friday night." No, it's not jealousy that lures me to Mr. Trebek and his glittering blue boxes. Jeopardy gives me a chance to get on my high horse. When I'm right, I feel like a super genius. When I'm wrong, I just get a chance to look down my nose at the Nerd Brigade. Ha ha ha.
And that is why, on any given weeknight, regardless of what kind of day I've had, I'm happy to settle down in front of our postage-stamp-sized television and judge people. And that is truly Mmm Mmm good.
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