Now that half the faces on prime-time TV are real people taking part in game shows or reality series, there’s no doubt most of us have wondered aloud, in a moment of disbelief, &uot;Where do they find these people?&uot;&t;!—-&t;.

Saturday, September 01, 2001

Now that half the faces on prime-time TV are real people taking part in game shows or reality series, there’s no doubt most of us have wondered aloud, in a moment of disbelief, &uot;Where do they find these people?&uot;

Turns out the better question is how they find those people.

I found out for myself last weekend when, on a lark, my dad and I used a Saturday afternoon to audition for &uot;The Weakest Link,&uot; NBC’s game/reality show. It turns out there’s a reason half the contestants are dumb as a post – because your look, your style, your attitude and your demographics are what really matter to the show’s scouts.

When the day started, I had no idea I would be trying out for a game show. I was staying at my parents’ house in the Twin Cities. Before noon, I found out my dad had applied online to be a contestant, and the producers contacted him and told him to come to their open auditions in Minneapolis.

As I’ve written here before, I can’t resist a good game show. So I went along.

We showed up, took numbers (he was 279, I was 280) and proceeded to wait. Us and 600 other people, that is. When we arrived, the line extended down a hallway, around corners and all the way out into a skyway. Yikes.

I had plenty of time to think while we waited. I guessed that out of all those people, maybe 5 or 10 would actually get on the show. The odds weren’t good for me.

But I spent more time thinking about what they were going to do to us when it was our turn. Would they give us a lot of tests? Would they interview us? Would we play a version of the game? Would they have a saucy British lady insult us to see if we could stand it?

After a couple hours of waiting, somebody ahead of us in line couldn’t stand it. He went to the front and asked what the procedure was. He came back to tell his friends, and my ears perked up.

&uot;They said it takes an hour and a half,&uot; he said. &uot;And if you pass that part of it, they take you upstairs to do a mock version of the show.&uot;

Well, I had some answers. But it wasn’t until a half-hour later when the line began moving, and we, along with 148 others, entered a meeting room for the audition.

They had us file into rows of chairs, seated behind long tables that stretched across the room. The man and woman who were going to be evaluating us passed out a packet to fill out and addressed the crowd.

Right off the bat, they made it clear what they were looking for. &uot;This is not about how ‘Jeopardy’ smart you are,&uot; the man said. He told us they were looking for certain demographics, and that this was entertainment, so they’d be evaluating how we’d perform on camera.

They had us fill out an application. They asked about hobbies, interests and experiences – but specifically told us we wouldn’t have a chance if we put down &uot;boring&uot; things like bowling or reading paperbacks. I guess they wanted skydivers and underwater demolition experts and people who chase tornadoes for fun. I tried to think of something exciting, but I was drawing a blank.

Then, they spent a good 45 minutes going around the room and having each person stand and tell their name, age, where they lived and what they did. We were given ten seconds to speak.

Some people went overboard, trying to sound way more exciting than they probably were, making wild hand motions, cracking half-baked jokes and just trying to make an impression. Others stoically stood, stated their vital info, and sat down.

I didn’t know what to do. When my turn came, I tried to speak loudly, but not too fast; I tried to sound and look enthusiastic and animated; but I didn’t have a good one-liner or something to get their attention.

Finally, they gave us a test. There were 20 questions, ranging from &uot;What baseball stadium is known as the House that Ruth Built?&uot; to &uot;What family of flower is the vanilla bean from?&uot; Some were easy, but there were at least 4 or 5 I’m sure I got wrong.

That was it. They collected the packets and recessed for about 20 minutes to pick the cream of the crop while we all waited in anticipation.

Finally, they came back and read off the numbers of those who would advance to the next round. They picked 26 of us out of 150, which they said was more than normal.

279 and 280 were not among the numbers called.

Nobody who didn’t make the cut seemed too surprised. Some had apparently tried out for game shows before. &uot;This is Card Sharks all over again,&uot; I heard one man tell his friend.

But I wondered: Where did I go wrong? Was it the test? Did I not capitalize on my ten seconds in the spotlight? Or am I just not part of the right demographic?

I’ll probably never know. But one day, on the Weakest Link, I might see somebody I recognize. And when they get kicked off, I’ll say, &uot;See? They should have picked me instead.&uot;

Dylan Belden is the Tribune’s managing editor. His column appears Sundays. E-mail him at dylan.belden@albertleatribune.com.