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Recently in Salon People

My Lunch With
Nick Tosches, the man in the leopard-skin loafers
The author of "Dino," "Hellfire" and the forthcoming "The Devil and Sonny Liston" talks about the Mysterious Pig Iron Man, Hollywood and snake wrangling in Florida.
By Rex Doane
[11/12/99]

Nothing Personal
Blood on the dance floor?
Michael Jackson IS Poe; MTV rocks vote, kids vote rock; and artist Mark Kostabi mortified over -- oops! -- premature communication. Plus: This is Newt on a budget.
By Amy Reiter
[11/11/99]

Column
I'd rather eat tacos with Daniel Johnston than swordfish with Damien Hirst
Spiritual squalor at an opening of chunky shock-pop for the rich, and a performance of melting honesty and sweetness by the musical equivalent of Joseph Cornell.
By Cintra Wilson
[11/11/99]

People Feature
A conversation with Holly Brubach
"Fashion is in fact architecture's feminine counterpart ... Buildings and clothes are the primary components of our everyday landscape."
By Janelle Brown
[11/11/99]

Nothing Personal
Model behavior
Cindy, Rebecca and Daisy on the trials and tribulations of being paid to stand; Bill and Hill moving in next door? There goes the fictional neighborhood; Venus on Mars: La Hurley makes the Red Planet blush. Plus: Seinfeld, bride-poacher.
By Amy Reiter
[11/10/99]

Complete archives for People

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I tried to get on the show in August, when it first aired. To become a contestant you had to call a 900 number and demonstrate your ordering prowess by correctly putting a few writers in order of birth, a few musicals in order of when they opened and a few rulers in order of when they ruled. The questions become more difficult as you progress, and my own difficulty factor was increased by the whimsical configuration of my push-button phone -- which is cunningly designed to resemble a rotary model. If, as you are attempting to qualify, you press a number other than 1 through 4 you are disqualified from the semifinals.

Back in August, it cost $1.50 per call to try out -- with a two-call-per-day maximum. Due to technical difficulties (see phone configuration), the best I could do was answer the three questions correctly, but not at the breakneck speed required to progress to the semifinal round. At the end of two weeks I was out about $21 for my efforts. The only ones getting rich were the 900-number people.

So now, smack in the middle of November sweeps, the highest rated show in recent television history is back. They have discontinued the $1.50 per call fee and enacted a fail-safe method to prevent overloading the system. This time I was determined. Who wants to be a millionaire? Me! Ooh! Me!

On my first day of calling I accidentally pressed 5 instead of 4. How cute is my phone now? On the second day of calling I made it through. The taped voice of Regis Philbin congratulated me on my correct answers, but warned that next time, I would have to order like the wind to advance to the semifinals. I also had to be near a phone from noon to 3 p.m. the following day to receive information about the next round. If they called and I was not home -- so long, Regis! There'd be no champagne wishes and caviar dreams for me.

At 12:03 the phone rang. A woman at the other end of the phone said she represented the "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" show. In exchange for my date of birth and the last four digits of my Social Security number, she would give me some important information: I had advanced to the final round. I was given a special phone number and a pin number and was told to call between 5 and 6 the next day to put more things in order.

The whole next day I spent in strategy. I borrowed a friend's speaker phone and hunkered down. At 5:07, I called in and answered the five questions. The voice of Regis came back to tell me that someone would call me between 6 and 10 that evening, if I had A) answered the questions correctly, and B) been among the 10 speediest respondents. The Regis voice reminded me that if I missed the call, I was SOL. These people were ruthless.

Next page | The first dilemma of pre-millionairedom ...