December 7, 2004 a day which will live in…..Ok, maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as the “other” December 7, but it was pretty cool for me. That was the date that I was a contestant on “Who Wants to be a Millionaire”. Although not as impressive as the storyline from “Slumdog Millionaire”, it was a memorable experience, full of surprises and refutations of assumptions I had made about the game show experience.

My Millionaire odyssey began two months earlier at the grand opening of a shopping mall in Carmel, Indiana. The Mall developer was able to partner with the show’s production company to hold a promotional tryout for the show. I was one of several thousand game show hopefuls who stood in line for up to 6 hours waiting for a chance. Standing in line with nothing to do gave me the opportunity to formulate a strategy for getting onto the show. I had to stand out from this crowd in order to win my chance at $1,000,000. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the odds were very long against my success. Only two contestants would be chosen from the crowd.

As the process had been explained to us, we would be taken inside in groups of 100 and given a written trivia test. The top ten finishers from each group would have a brief interview with a producer from the show. They didn’t go into detail, but I surmised that they were trying to determine how we would appear if we got to the “hot seat”. How did we look? Were we interesting to talk to? Did we appear poised and confident? Looks I couldn’t do much about; no plastic surgeons readily available. Interesting conversationalist? Yeah sometimes. I decided to concentrate on poise and confidence. After acing the written test, I was called to a side area for my interview. I pushed the curtain aside, smiled and waved as if an audience was present, and offered the producer my best shoulder height handshake. I answered his questions with enthusiasm and confidence, totally disregarding content.

“So Ron, why do you think you would make a good “Millionaire” contestant?”

“Man! It’s just really great to be here. Your show rocks! You gotta play’em one game at a time.”

It seemed to be what they were looking for.

A few weeks later I got the call and was on my way to New York- sort of. I had assumed that becoming a member of the big happy television appearance family came with perks and privileges like: pre-arranged travel and accommodations, chats with minor celebrities, a personal concierge… No, there was none of that. I had to arrange and pay for my own airfare, hotel, and transportation to the studio. This was somewhat of an issue; money was tight. I had to make a risk vs. reward assessment rather than just living the dream and going for my million. I made the cheapest arrangements possible including staying at a hostel. (later, I would see the film “Hostel” and realize just how lucky I was to survive the experience. The cheapest package I could put together was around $500, so I figured I would make at least something; I mean, every contestant wins at least a thousand dollars right?

After finding my way to the hostel and checking in, I made my way to the studio to let them know I had arrived for the next day’s taping. (I later learned that some contestants just blow the whole thing off at the last minute, deciding it’s not worth the hassle.) I proudly entered the front door of the studio, certain that I would be welcomed in a manner befitting my new status as game show contestant. I approached the studio’s one man welcoming committee and announced my business, expecting Meredith Vieira to be summoned to welcome me properly. Without looking up from his paper, the greeter replied, “round back”.

“Excuse me?”

Suddenly I had become worthy of eye contact.

“They don’t do that up here, you need to go ROUND-BACK.”

Not wanting to interrupt this man’s important business any further, I deduced that “round back” referred to a door in the back alley next to a dumpster. After arriving “round back” I entered the building and received additional copies of the rules, (I was reminded of the rules ad infinitum during my experience. Apparently, “don’t cheat” was insufficient) and was told to return at 6AM the following day. The actual taping would not start until twelve hours after my arrival.

After a full day of boredom in the green room, veiled threats from their lawyers, the famous commissary-rubber-chicken lunch, (all you can eat!!) and more from the lawyers, I was nearly ready. But there was one more test before I could take my place opposite Meredith. I had to practice sitting on the stool. I wondered why I had to practice this. I don’t have many skills, but stool sitting is something I have some expertise with. Every contestant wonders why they have to practice stool sitting, so you get a story along with the lesson. One of the early contestants wasn’t so good at stool sitting and actually fell over backward during his attempt. Much damage was done to his pride and some equipment which resulted in the cancellation of that day’s taping. After mastering the stool, I was ready to rumble.

I had to focus and stay calm. A screw-up on the show would be eternally immortalized on videotape. How could I possibly fight the nervousness of appearing on a nationally syndicated television show? Simple; I didn’t have any anxiety to fight. I was so overwhelmed by the boredom, fatigue, and challenge of digesting rubber chicken that I didn’t have time to be nervous. My quest was no longer for the million dollars; it was just to get the hell out of there. I flirted with the idea of blowing the first question intentionally, but I was worried they might see through my plan and make me come back later. I had to go through with it.

I walked out to Meredith’s warm and genuine welcome. We talked the requisite small talk and then got down to business. I breezed through the first few questions and got to the $1,000 level – my trip was paid for, now I was playing with house money. We went to commercial and Meredith asked me some background questions, trying to develop a story to tell when we came back from commercial. None of our dialogue produced a story for her to tell, so we just jumped back into it. The next question was about an orange stick, something I had never heard of. I used my first lifeline-ask the audience, and got the question right. The ask-the-audience process actually takes about 5 minutes; watching from home it seems to take 10 seconds. I got another question right and then had to use another lifeline; the phone-a-friend. My lifeline friend, Dan Gray, was standing by his computer with the ultra fast connection waiting on the call. The question was, “Rennet a product made from the lining of a cow’s stomach is used to make: a) ice cream b) chocolate c) cheese or d) bread.” I repeated the question to Dan, spelling rennet out twice, and just before the 30 second buzzer sounded he shouted, “cheese!” Another right answer and time for another commercial break.

During the break a very excited producer came on the set congratulating me and telling me what a great contestant I was being.

“I can’t believe how calm you are.”

“I’m bored and I’m trying not to spew rubber chicken on Meredith”

“Wow, that’s just great. Look, we need a story about you for when we come back from break. You were telling me something earlier about how you and your wife met at a speed dating thing?”

I re-told the story; Meredith listened intently and gave me the cues as to when I should jump in during her telling of it after the break.

“We’re back with Ron Montgomery. He’s going for $16,000 and doing just great. Ron you were telling me about how you and your wife met”

[Nods to me to pick up the story]

“Yes, it……..”

[She steps on my line]

“It was at a speed dating event”

[nods again]

“Yes, and….”

“And she paid $35 to get in”

[Deciding my sentences needed to be shorter if I was to have a prayer of finishing them]

“I was on the bargain table”

[Laughter from the audience]

“You also told me that at about the same time, she adopted a dog and a cat each costing about $90”

[Nods again]

“Yeah, so….”

“That makes you the cheapest of her recent acquisitions”

“Yeah, I guess if space gets tight and somebody has to go….”

[More laughter, on to the next question]

The next question had to do with surnames in the story “Lemony Snicket”. I had no clue and using my final lifeline, the 50/50 was of no help. I told Meredith I was taking my $8,000 and getting the hell out of there.

After signing some papers and receiving a lovely parting gift, (more threats from the lawyers) I was escorted back to the doorway leading to the back alley and the now -overflowing dumpster. Judging from the spillage from the dumpster, very few people actually ate the rubber chicken.

The experience was fun, though much less glamorous than I had anticipated. Meredith who is a warm and genuinely likable person, sent me a hand written note a week later telling me I was great xoxoxo. As I pointed out to my wife, she didn’t say I was great on the show... My wife had better stay on her toes. If she messes up, I may have a backup available in New York.