Lip Sync Battle + Music Quiz Ordeal

I will try to wrap up last night’s Lip Sync Battle + Music Quiz ordeal briefly so I can go to bed. Every moment since the ordeal ended has been precious and I really consider how I am spending my time, now. 

An old friend rang early in the afternoon yesterday and invited me and the family to a quiz night. Yeah, we love quiz nights, count us in. But also; this evening also included a lip sync battle - a kind of mime talent show. Of which one of the 3 judges was Miranda. So off we went. The friend that rang was Miranda's dad Simon; so our team was Simon, Mary, Marcus, Michael, Elf and I.

Elf was not aware it was a music quiz or that there would be performing when she signed up for it, so she was quietly furious. I am not going to mention the details of the battle or the venue because I don't want to upset the organisers if they were googling themselves and came across this. But here are some points of difficulty and exasperation.

• There were not enough chairs, so Marcus had to sit on a high stool and felt extremely exposed.
• The questions were very long and convoluted. They were often preceded by some editorial background that did not form part of the question but was just stuff the host wanted to get off her chest
• A friend of the host was trying to check people’s tickets which had QR codes etc; it was all very complicated and didn't work. She had had a few drinks. As the night wore on she continued to help but also to yell comments and occasional quiz answers. We appreciated very much the work of the host's other friends who managed to distract her and limit the damage.
• Simon had snaffled a "good table" which meant we were about 6 feet from the stage; and Michael and I were the ones who ended up on the stage side of it. This meant ladies and men dressed as ladies were miming at us from about a pool cue's length from our faces. We are both socially anxious and spent a lot of time looking at the ceiling and the very interesting curtains etc.
• The host was at times making effort to move things along, but at other times would go into a bit of a reverie. We started late so it soon became clear this was a marathon not a sprint. One of the host's team of friends and supporters did excellent work telling her to snap out of it, when she would drift into self doubt and start thinking aloud about what would have been a better way to do things.
• At the end, the merciful end, they collected all the answer sheets but could not add up the points. Drunk lady asked Marcus for help, while also clarifying unasked that she was "not retarded". He could not help because of the amount of numbers just written everywhere that no-one could explain to him.
• Quiz results were announced anyway. The team that was awarded first were gobsmacked and quite certain that they had not come anywhere near first. Host said "OK, I think this is right", as she handed out inexpensive prizes sourced from the Tip Shop, "but check our Facebook tomorrow for the final results and if you need to you can all meet for coffee and swap prizes or something".
• The lip sync 3rd prize winner was called to the stage and given the first prize, which was then removed again but she was very brave about it.
• This 3rd rate shemozzle ended with the host announcing that this was her first go organising an event but keep your eyes peeled for her new event management business called ___ (bad pun on her name). She was serious.

The lip syncing was mostly fun, people had put effort into costumes and practising. Thank you sincerely to the lady who played the parts of fox and hound for one song; you gave me and many others a reason to go on living. I seriously felt my soul leaving my body a few times during the night.

I will continue to support local events like this but I will insist on having a seat near an exit in future.

School Quiz Night

Some weeks back when it was announced we would be having a fund-raising quiz night, we were immediately snaffled by our friend The Fewst to be on her team. She even paid for us, as a gesture to say thanks to Elf for shuttling her son from school to her work once a week. We suspect she also thought we would shore up the team in some vital knowledge areas.

Mum and Dad were roped in to look after Marcus, Michael, Miah and Karri, as Imp and Ed were also quiz-bound, although in a different team. The kids were fed, pyjama'd and toothbrushed before we left. As Elf, Imp and Ed went out the door Michael said "Where are they going?" I said "We're going to the quiz night". Michael said "Great!" and scooted out the door. I put him straight quick smart, pointing out that he was wearing pyjamas for a reason.

We arrived at the school gym, and split off into our teams. I was expecting to be cold but there were about 170 people crammed in, and we were soon peeling off layers. We had to name our team, which task fell to me. Fewst's Flamingos. Harmless enough. By the time The Fewst heard the name it was in the hands of the scorers. "Oh NO, how embarrassing!!!" she wailed.

Off we went. We had a variety of people in the team, no-one that we knew very well. Everyone was very pleasant and mostly played nice. But we had to do that swap-answers-for-marking thing, and The Fewst seemed determined to mark hard. We had to keep chivvying her to be fair. Not only that, the very first tough question saw her fish out her iPhone. "Fewst, you can't do that!!!" "Why not?"

An early question was "How would you cut a circular cake into 8 equal pieces with 3 straight cuts?" I have heard this before, so I explained you cut down the middle, then right angles to that (4 pieces) then horizontally through the whole cake parallel to the table (8 pieces). Our captain tried to draw this, and didn't quite get it. Her 2nd attempt was going down the same track, so I offered to draw it. No big deal, took a few seconds, and the other less artistically inclined team members all said "ooh, look at that, lovely". The Fewst sulked for quite some time about me "criticising her drawing". When the time came to swap answers with the next table, she proposed marking theirs wrong when they had drawn something exactly the same as hers. Sheesh.

Anyway. The whole thing was terrifically well organised. Parents from the school had donated an amazing array of things, including this beautiful framed print by Maddy Goodwolf, worth over $1000. There was a silent auction for a wide range of stuff, and a proper auctioneer (hup 400 400 400 400 hup 450 450 do I have 5, do I have 5 thankyousir 500 hup etc) taking live bids (and even phone bids) for the big ticket items like the print (shown below). The whole thing appeared to be a roaring success in terms of raising funds for the school.

We were in front in the scoring about threequarters of the way through. We were getting good answers from all quarters, The Fewst coming through very nicely with the correct term for the white bumpy bits on southern right whales (callosities).

We were asked: what was the name of the actual dog who first played Lassie? I happened to have looked it up 3 days ago, and stunned the team by getting it right (Pal). All going well.

Then came the Trash and Treasure round. A list of things had to be found and presented to the scorers, including a bra, a tampon, a condom, a high-heeled shoe, a band-aid, lip balm, etc etc. We did very badly here, and we all agreed that it lowered the tone somewhat. Then again, we had already been given a list of place-names and had to find the one that was fake. The list included Middelfart, Fucking*, Anus, Bollocksberg, Crapstone, Wetwang and Penistone. So, yeah, the tone was low already. *It's real, and can be found in Austria.

In the end we came second, and won a motley swag of musk sticks, tiny Easter eggs, and bizarrely a large jar of satay sauce. As I was stressing about how late up we were keeping Mum and Dad, Imp approached with a large man she wanted me to meet. Turns out he is a more-or-less professional quizzer, who wants to add me to his roster of reliable team members. He even carries around a spreadsheet with his recent results to show prospective draftees.

I said he could give me a call - but I am starting to go off the idea a bit. The idea of a grim team of hand-picked specialists going around cleaning up at the expense of teams of actual fun-loving friends - it's not really cricket is it?

Quiz champs

Marcus, Michael, Arianne and Lana took out the Tasmanian Grade 4 Trivia championship yesterday, in Launceston - organised by Epilepsy Australia. Michael was asked to fill in when someone couldn't make it, and performed admirably. Apologies for photo quality - it was held in a large dim basketball centre.

Small world etc

Last night was the Amnesty International fundraising quiz night. I could not persuade any of my so-called friends to join my quiz team, so I turned up at the event alone. I felt obliged to go as I had helped with the promotions, and had assured everyone involved at the time that I'd be there with bells on, with all my mates, being quite a popular fellow y'know.

The thing was a sellout, despite clashing with a big footy match on TV, and I was only able to squeak in when some ticketholders didn't show. By necessity I joined their team, as there was just nowhere else to sit. I knew one of the team slightly but they were all very nice. Smart too - after three rounds we were leading the pack.

One of the team was a lively sixty-something chap called Pat. After one question ("Who was the last Tasmanian to win the Archibald Prize for Portraiture?" [A: Geoff Dyer]) - Pat asked "And whose brother did he paint?" I was a bit flummoxed. The sitter for the portrait was author Richard Flanagan. His brother Martin is quite well known, but I know he also has 3 or 4 other siblings. Anyway - turned out the answer Pat was looking for was himself - he's another brother.

I was very pleased with this, as although I think very highly of Richard, Martin is actually one of my very favourite writers. Richard is mates with my boss and pops up everywhere, while Martin is based in Melbourne and much more retiring. So I earbashed Pat for some time about how great Martin is and he said he would pass it on.

Martin's last book 'The Line' was written with and about their father Arch, a WW2 veteran in his nineties. I was pleased to hear that he's still with us, and going pretty well. He was a prisoner of war on the Burma Railway with Weary Dunlop.

So, I had a good night, was very pleased to meet Pat Flanagan and we even won the quiz, so I staggered home laden with bottles of wine, each with a big label spruiking the politician who donated it.