Tomah Journal - Printable Version

Story originally printed in the Tomah Journal or online at www.tomahjournal.com

Published - Friday, June 13, 2008

Column: Spell 'khaki?' The pressure is on

Bob Kliebenstein

What kind of color is khaki?

Television that kept you glued to the screen?

Maybe not for some.

But you can bet family members for the 288 competitors at the Scripps National Spelling Bee in Washington, DC, a few weeks ago watched the final round from the first vowel to the last consonant when it aired on ABC.

According to news accounts, Kara Walls, 14, of Hales Corners, was the lone Wisconsin entrant in the bee. Only one Badger State competitor? On top of that, Walls, who exited in the second round, is home schooled. Bet that makes administrators at Wisconsin public and private schools squirm just a little bit.

The word that sealed Walls’ fate, paronymous, which means “derived from the same root.” Walls spelled it paranymous.

Come on judges, paranymous or paronymous. What is one vowel? In spelling bee competition one incorrect letter could be likened to letting the ball for the final out in the World Series dribble between your legs. Life changing? Just ask Bill Buckner. Baseball historians will know what I am talking about.

The winner of the bee this year was 13-year-old Sameer Mishra of West Lafayette, IN. His winning word guerdon, which means “a reward or recompense.” Feel free to correct me if mistaken, but isn’t that also the spelling of a first name?

No disrespect intended toward Kara or Sameer, but paronymous and guerdon? What ever happened to tongue-twisters like supercalifragilisticespiolodoshis (am I even close?) as words to knock out Scripps competitors.

Now back in the day of the local spelling bee at Belmont Junior high words seemed a bit more complicated. Yes, while I sucked at math - still do - I was not a bad speller. Every year when the Scripps bee rolls around it conjures up memories of my failed attempts to qualify for the Lafayette County spelling bee. So close on one occasion.

If memory serves me correct, I was one of the final four or five in my final year of competing in our school bee before I stumbled on the word khaki. Now I ask, who would have thought khaki would not begin with the letter “c”?

It took a while to recover from that setback. I mean the top two advanced to the county bee. The third place finisher was the alternate. All I would have needed is one of the top two to break an ankle or get really, really sick.

My disappointment was equal to my lone attempt at forensic competition. I nailed my version of “Casey at the Bat” and only received a B rating from my judge. It was A material all the way. But to be honest the only reason I tried forensics was an English teacher who defined curvature from head to toe.

Curvature? Could you please use that in a sentence? Our bee announcer would not have referred to bodily shape if she would have used curvature in a sentence. I can still see and hear Jeanette Lindholm pronounce each word with perfection. Jeanette was the bee announcer for years. She took great pride in speaking each word crisply.

My spelling ability comes from my Mom. She had a knack and it was passed down to many of my siblings. I can’t recall how they fared in bee competition. I do know some members of my family get fairly heated over a game of Scrabble when we get together. Looking back maybe it was we all had to master the name Kliebenstein at an early age.

I vaguely remember some of the other students in our local bee. Two were very good students through high school. Another ended up studying the art of rolling doobies more than hitting the books. There are no doubt words like marijuana and hallucination common in his vocabulary during high school.

Looking back maybe there was some subliminal connection with my inability to master the word khaki and my refusal to remotely consider military service after graduation. When I graduated high school serving in the military was the last thing on my mind.

Maybe it had nothing to do with growing up in an era when the Vietnam War was coming to a close. Maybe it was the fact that I would have had to don khaki fatigues for four or five years. If I could not spell khaki I sure as hell was not going to wear it.

Neither of our daughters followed in my footsteps to compete in local bee competition. Just as well. Imagine the pressure of filling those large shoes. Such tradition, it would have been m-o-n-u-m-e-n-t-o-u-s.

Bob Kliebenstein is a Tomah resident.