BEE COOL

Once upon a time, I considered myself gifted among the "lettered." While others groaned, I foamed at the mouth whenever my grade school teacher said, "Line up into two groups. We're having a spell down." I even won the 8th grade gold spelling pin, which I still have and wear on occasions when I want to impress someone...which isn't often.

So, it was with great confidence that I volunteered to be one of four audience participants in Friday night's "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" at Cabaret Oldtown in Wichita. I think Big Bore was mortified that I would offer myself up for slaughter, but I bounded on stage like I was 10 years old again. "Let's do it! Bring it on!!"

Round One: The six actors all got hideously hard words...words I'd never heard of...but, of course, they zipped right through them. The girls were cocky and confident. One guy first spelled the words out on the floor, imaginary-style, with his right foot. Geez. Maybe this wasn't going to be so easy after all.

Much to my relief, however, the vounteers got easy words..."kitty," "Mexican," and "cow"...until it came my turn. After making a joke about my khaki fashion style, the pronouncer said something that sounded like "knockee."

"What?" I said, beginning to sweat under the lights. "Knockee? I've never heard of that word!"

"Knockee," she said again.

"May I have a definition? Would you use that in a sentence, please?" I thought maybe she was trying to make a play on words with "nooky" or something.

I can't remember what she said now, because all I was thinking was how in the heck I was going to spell this stupid word and not be the first one kicked out of the spelling bee in shame. Knockee. It had to be Italian in origin. Maybe it's "g-n-o-c-c-i" or "g-n-o-c-c-h-i-." I had to hurry up. None of the others gave it a second of thought. Here goes nothing: "G-n-o-c-c-i."

Buzz! "Oh, so close," the prounouncer said. "It's g-n-o-c-c-H-i."

Well, sonofabitch. Or is that sunovabich?

The actors all stood and sang a farewell swan song to me and I was escorted off the stage, shoulders slumped, lower lip sticking out, humiliated for life.

But the good news is, I received two "parting gifts" for being a volunteer: a little box of Hawaiian Punch (do you get the symbolism there?) AND free admission to the Cabaret show in December.

I can't wait to return. If they need any audience participants for the next show, I'll be the first to raise my hand. "Pick me!!!!"