It all happened pretty innocently. I was sitting at my Grandmother's house, reading the comics. My Aunt Alice came over to me with a news clipping. She does that a lot. "I'm sure you've seen this," she said, "but they're having tryouts for 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire' in Cleveland on Tuesday."

I hadn't. I tried out for the show before, and got to the point that I was on the short list of contestants to appear on the show, but didn't go any farther than that. Open tryouts sounded promising, and one of the benefits of being a freelance artist is that my boss would let me take the afternoon off to go downtown for this.

Ah, I love not working for The Man.

So on a rainy, dreary Tuesday in May, I went to Downtown Cleveland and sat in a huge line for afternoon tryouts. What were all these people doing here, I wondered. Don't they have jobs?

I sat next to a man I can only describe as odd. Well, I can describe him as all sorts of things, but odd is probably the kindest. He was the kind of guy who thought shorts, a fedora, and a bushy Jeff Foxworthy moustache was a fashionable look, especially on his scrawny frame. During the wait, he'd amuse himself by singing "Poisoning Pigeons in the Park."

We talked. Well, he talked, and I nodded occasionally. He told me that he had flown out in the middle of the winter to Minneapolis to try out for Jeopardy. "They flew you out?" I asked.

"No, I flew out."

"On your dime?"

"Yeah." Okay, I'll do a lot of things, including fly out to San Diego every year to hope that DC Comics will hire me at the convention, but flying out to Minneapolis on the chance that I might be picked to go on a game show with no telling if I'd win. I don't think so.

Which is not to say everyone I met was so, um, touched. There were a lot of nice people. But more on them later.

Eventually, they ushered us in to a large ballroom and gave us a number two pencil and a Scantron-type computer test. You know, fill in these little bubbles. Like the SATs. One of the Millionaire Minions got up and said "This is for the syndicated version of 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire,' with Meredith Viera, not the one with Regis."

I wondered why they said this. I mean, who was going to get up and say "No, I will only take a million dollars if it comes directly from the hand of Regis!" Hell, give me a million and you don't even have to air the episode.

"Please turn your cell phones off," the lady continued. Why? What if I want to phone a friend.

I made friends with the people next to me. Hey, I'm a friendly guy. And we chatted and joked until the test began.

It was a fifty question test, and we had maybe twelve minutes to complete it. I thought I did well (don't get ahead of me now) and there were only three questions I thought I didn't know the answer to and guessed at.

It's amazing how much stuff you know, and where you know it from. One was a question about where the Vice-President's residence was. "U.S. Naval Observatory," I answered. Thank you Tom Clancy and "Clear and Present Danger."

They took our tests and made us wait as they processed and graded them. When the Millionaire People came back in, they called out the numbers of those who had made the cut. There were fifteen or so who made it and I was one of them.

They moved us to another room where we had to answer a bunch of personality questions. Game shows, heck, TV shows in general, want interesting, fun to watch people. Generally I'm pretty witty and charming, but I wanted to make sure I was especially so. Hey, I'm not just a pretty face.

We had to answer questions like "What's your dream job?"

A brief aside: This was a very poignant moment for me. No one had asked me since I had left the salt mines of the ad agency to go into the freefall that is freelancing. I thought about the question and realized I have my dream job. That's just cool. Not a lot of people get to say that.

So I said "I have my dream job, I'm a cartoonist." That wasn't going to be funny enough. "But, if I wasn't doing that, I'd love to be the guest villain on 'Buffy: The Vampire Slayer.'"

I interviewed in person after filling out my questionnaire. I told stories that many of you have heard. Me and the snake from when I did animal caricatures. Several jokes about my Mom.

"And you'd like to be a villain on 'Buffy?'"

"Absolutely. Thirteen episodes, my own action figure and the cover of 'Tiger Beat' magazine. That's all I want."

"They don't publish 'Tiger Beat' anymore, do they?"

I smiled and said "I don't know, I'm not a thirteen year-old girl." But what I wanted to say was "You're missing the point entirely." However, I'm smart enough to be politic and not tick off my interviewer.

"Would you say that on the air?"

"I dunno, would you like me to? 'Buffy' airs on UPN and your show is not necessarily on a UPN network since it's syndicated."

I'd like to think my grasp of network structures pushed me over the top.

While in line to be interviewed I was chatting with those around me and made a joke about spelling my name with a "H." The guy next to me said "Your name is Thom?"

"Yes," I responded wittily. Trust me, it's all in the delivery.

"Thom Zahler?"

For other people this would be an odd moment. For me it was a Tuesday. Turns out standing next to me was Tom Condosta, a fellow comics fan and we shared a mutual friend in the person of Star Trek novelist and Comics Buyers Guide columnist Bob Ingersoll.

It's a small world, especially so when you're as tall as I am, I guess.

A couple of months later I got a card in the mail saying I was in the talent pool. Now all I had to wait for was a random drawing and a call.

Then, in October of 2002, I got a call from Heather at 'Millionaire' asking if I wanted to be a millionaire. Oddly, I said "yes."

So, I got a call from Heather at 'Millionaire' asking if I wanted to be a millionaire...

This version of the show, unlike the Regis version, would only fly you, and not you and your companion, out to tape in New York City. They warned me I might have to be there for up to five days. What they do is bring in 5-10 people per day. Not everyone gets in the first day and have to play the next. That way they're always assured of having contestants.

I suppose you could hit a stretch of done-in-one players. It's good to be prepared.

So I made arrangements and called my friend Jill, my frequent traveling companion and good friend. I didn't want to be in the Big Apple alone just worrying about the show. I'd need someone to talk, keep me from getting to crazy, and just to hang out with.

She also has the advantage of having a job that's almost as flexible as mine, and could maybe swing a five day trip to NYC. Fortunately, she could.

We decided to drive. If I wound up having to stay over, Millionaire would rebook my tickets, but not Jill's. And since they wanted me up there in two weeks, tickets were pricey enough. If we drove the nine hours (on a route almost identical to my frequent trips to Jersey when I attended art school there) then she could leave whenever I was done. Besides, it was cheaper.

For the first of many occasions, I decided not to assume I'd win the million, and not make purchases based on that. I did buy new tires for my car for the trip, and a new suit, since I was led to believe my traditional John Cusack/Grosse Point Blank black suit-wine shirt look might not look good on TV.

I had to fill out a questionnaire with more personality-type questions. I decided to make this the funniest response they'd ever gotten. You can see my questionnaire and answers here, if you'd like.

Also, about the same time, my friends Mike and Colleen were expecting their first child, and my first Godchild. I had already made arrangements to take might out for a guy's night, largely involving Dave and Busters, on a Saturday two weeks before her due date.

Why, I'm even such a sensitive guy that I checked with her first, lest she worry that I had taken everyone she knew on her side of town out partying. A first-time Mom shouldn't have to be concerned about who to call if she went into labor early. Fortunately, that didn't happen.

This will be important later, too, so make a note of it.

What did happen, though, is that because of when I had to be in NYC, I wound up going out until 1am or so, driving to Kent, where Jill lives, and getting a quality four hours sleep so that we could leave at 5am and head to the Empire State and be there in time for my Sunday meeting.

I can't tell you how worried I was that I'd oversleep, or blow out a tire, or get caught in traffic. This was a big opportunity, and I was worried about blowing it.

We made it to New York just fine. Jill quizzed me with a bunch of questions off of some little electronic quiz gadget. I was off my game, missing a lot of questions. Moreover, I'd overthink a bunch of them.

"Go with your gut,"Jill said.

The show gave us a lovely hotel at the Lucerne, paid for my parking as well as my gas and tolls, too. I attended the Millionaire Meeting just fine and everyone there could not have been nicer. I also met the crew that I'd be spending the next few days with. Chrissy, Gary, Fernando, Tom and Joanna.

What Heather had told me, and not them apparently, was that while they taped four episodes a day, Tuesday was Election Day and they would not be taping that day. Chances are none of us would make it into the Hot Seat on Monday, so we'd be going on Wednesday. Moreover, Wednesday they were doing a special "New York Week" theme show, so they'd only be taping one episode on Wednesday. There was a good chance we'd all be there until Thursday.

See why I drove? A lot of people wound up having to send their companions home before they taped.

I slept fitfully that night, nervous as I'd ever been. I'd made jokes about going on the show before, but now I had to actually do it.

I'd been playing the CD version of the game. I had gotten to a million once, which I really wanted to to before going on the show. What it did teach me was strategy. There's a real pull to save your lifelines for the end, but if that causes you to guess on an easy question, you might be booted before you get to that point.

It's the brilliance of the game, I think. By virtue of what you do to get in that chair, you think you're smart. The question is, can you check your ego at the door to ask for help when you need to.

My strategy was to play for $32,000, the second safe level. That seemed respectable. I'd probably walk with anything more that $125,000, but that was kind of up in the air, depending on what questions if I got that far, and how I felt when it happened.

But $32K is a pretty respectable amount. It's more than I made in a year when I was at the Ad Agency. Now, well, I do a little better. The advantages of working for yourself and being a consummate businessman, I guess.

I woke up the next morning and grabbed a shower. I had to be downstairs at nine to go over to ABC and receive orientation. Jill and the other companions would have to get themselves over around noon. What I had forgotten to do, though, was iron my dress shirt.

When I got out of the shower, though, Jill had remembered and was ironing my shirt. She looked at me, glowered, and said "Don't say a word."

That more than anything made me want to make some smack comment about doing housework or something. But the desire not to have an iron shaped mark on my face during my national television debut kept me silent.

Orientation began for us with a litany of rules and questions and answers. The biggest one was that we couldn't discuss our winnings, what our questions were, or specifics about our episode with anyone.

"What about my wife?" asked Gary.

Joanna then uttered my favorite line of the whole week. "Make her work for it."

Actually, without saying so explicitly, they told us that there were no Millionaire Police, checking to make sure we didn't reveal anything. Moreover, our companions didn't sign any confidentiality agreements, so they were free to say whatever they'd like. But they, and I understand this completely, asked that we keep it as mum as possible. After all, they want people to watch, and if we blab the outcome, less people are likely to.

Plus, you don't receive your money until thirty days after your episode airs, so they've got that to hold over you.

That's why I haven't been able to post this report before.

We were taken onto the set and met the producer who gave us some advice. "Remember it's real money," he said. "Talk it out, thinking is non-linear but talking it out would help. Take your time, there's no time limit. You'd be surprised what you remember. Use your lifelines. It's a terrible feeling to miss a question and still have one on the table."

They also showed us how to enter the set and sit down. Not as easy as you'd think. The crowd is cheering when you're in the alcove, and you're told to come on in even though you can't hear Meredith introduce you. And then, the chairs are like bar stools on the bottom, and are delicately balanced. If you were to get in and push yourself up by putting your feet on the footrail, you'd knock the chair over. So watch everyone push themselves into the chair.

Also, the LCD monitors are set low, about lap level, for most people. They warned me that I'd probably have to lower my legs to slide them under the monitor. At a commercial break, they'd lower my chair for me if I needed them to.

The set's really nice. Very splashy, and kind of a half circle. All the people are behind you, so you can't see them or take cues from the audience. It was a little intimidating to be honest.

They also went over our stories, talking about which ones Meredith might ask us about, streamlining them so that our witty banter wouldn't stretch into a monologue. I figured that we'd talk about me being a cartoonist. But remember when I said that I tried to be funny? Well, the second question was "marital status" to which I replied "tragically single."

Apparently, Meredith was going to be fixated on that.

They gave us to lunch at the ABC commissary. Very nice. But at this point we were in what is called Contestant Isolation. There are rules to what you can do, what you can have, while waiting to be on the show. You can't bring anything to read, anything to work on, no Palm pilots, no CD players, no cell phones. Nothing.

I was afraid this'd be like Michael Weisman on the brilliant and cancelled-too-quickly "Now and Again." Hours of boredom. Tom Condosta, the lawyer friend I mentioned earlier had been a contestant a couple months beforehand. He described it as boring as sin, with all the contestants quizzing each other with trivia.

Blissfully, this wasn't my experience.

I genuinely liked everyone I was with. There was Tom from Omaha, who had adopted a couple of Korean children. He was funny and smart. The oh-so-cute Chrissy, the Super Senior from Penn State. ("Super" because she was in her fifth year.) I'm drawn to anything with "super" in front of it and we started hanging out a lot. Joanna, a computer tech from Atlanta. And Gary, the man all doctors should be like. I made a joke about doctors scheduling four patients for the same time and he said he didn't do that. "I figure if I haven't read the paper by noon at work, I'm having a bad day." Last was Fernando, who kept to himself a bit. And of course, wisecracking charming me.

When we went back to the dressing rooms (one for the guys, one for the girls) we met the held over contestants. That's when I met Steve, a doctor from... you know what, I dunno where. A lot of stuff was going on. But upon meeting him, I realized he was the me of his group.

"Hey, newbies," he said, "just a little tip for you. Meredith loves it when you call her 'babe.'"

I knew what this meant. "You're trying to sell us a hall pass, aren't you?"

We were locked in, literally, in the Green Room, which was, of course, an off-white. There were sodas and drinks and veggie trays and cookies. Some weird cookies, too, as Chrissy and I discovered. Some cookies shouldn't taste like that.

We weren't even allowed to go to the bathroom without an escort. I tried to go with them every chance we had. I read an old military proverb somewhere that said "Never pass up a chance to eat, sleep or use the head. You never know when you'll get another chance."

There was a TV in the room, broadcasting the closed circuit Millionaire broadcast. They tape four a day, causing Meredith to change clothes and pretend it was the next day. It was pretty nerve-wracking, just waiting for the TV to snap to life and play the theme to Millionaire.

That theme. Even today, it still gives me chills. When you heard it, you knew that the next show was about to start. We didn't know the order we'd go in, just that the holdovers went first. They'd announce the one in the hot seat, the one waiting in the wings, and the on-deck contestant. You didn't know when you'd go more than a handful of minutes beforehand.

We had to wear makeup, too, which was a new experience for me. In talking with my fellow contestants, I mentioned that I'd love to see a Broadway show, prompting any number of "Isn't that a lavish Broadway Musical, you strangely unmarried artist-type?" So when the makeup lady called for someone to get painted up, and I hopped up, Tom laughed and said "You seem pretty eager to get makeup on, Thom."

Ah, that Tom.

We contestants had a saying, "It's all in your stack." We figured you get a stack of questions, and you just had to hope you got the right ones. So when someone would get the call, you'd wish them luck, do all sorts of high-fives, and hope for the right stack.

Random musings from the tapings on Monday...

I saw a lot of people get questions I thought were impossibly easy and they needed a lifeline. But we all have blind spots in our trivia knowledge. Like I said, all in the stack.

Jeremiah got this question:

The Tennessee Williams play "A Streetcar Named Desire" takes place in which American city?
a. Boston	b. New Orleans
c. San Francisco	a. New York

A college student and English major, Jeremiah hadn't read it. So he fifty in, paranoid that they'd take away the two that he knew it wasn't. Sure enough it did and he was left with San Francisco and New Orleans. (Michael Davies, the producer, told us that the 50/50 was completely random, a change from the nighttime show. A lot of people don't believe that, but he said he couldn't say it if it wasn't true.) So after mulling it over for five minutes, he called his dad. His dad said he was "fifty percent sure it was New Orleans." Jeremiah mulled it over for another five minutes at least.

In the green room, Chrissy asked if they'd edit the interminable staring contest. "Heck, no," I said. "This is ratings gold!"

I just watched his episode broadcast as I write this, and the whole question took about 30 seconds of airtime.

Jeremiah walked with $8,000.

Steve was doing pretty well, until he got his $32,000 question.

In the movie "Rocky," what were the names of Rocky's pet turtles?
a. Fred and Ginger	b. Chip and Dale
c. Cuff and Link	d. One and Two

"Rocky had turtles?" Steve said. (Cut from the broadcast.) "I remember him hitting large slabs of meat, I don't remember him having a sensitive pet-caring side."

Steve called a friend, who was of no help. Then he 50/50ed it to "Cuff and Link" and "Fred and Ginger." Not thinking Rocky was clever enough to go for "Cuff and Link," he picked "Fred and Ginger."

He was, unfortunately, wrong. He went home with $1000.

You'd be surprised at how many people only leave with $1000. Jill confidently told me "You'll win at least $32,000, Thom. It's only only a question of how much more."

By the time of the fourth episode, our team was up. Joanna went first. Gary was on deck. And I was third up.

We'd be hanging out all day and figured we knew each other pretty well. So when Joanna got in the Hot Seat and Meredith asked "So, you were up for a Grammy against Pat Benatar?" I was pretty surprised.

How does that not come up in introductory conversation. Have you ever heard the song "Love Bites" by Cinderella and some other chick singer. She was the chick singer.

Then Joanna went out on at $1000. One of her questions, though, would become an icon of my time there:

Dentin, a substance found in human teeth, is also found in this:
a. Chalk	b. Ivory
c. Mother-of-Pearl	a. Ebony

I thought about this as I watched the closed circuit. "Chalk," I said. I remembered all those seventies mouthwash commercials and dipping the chalk in the mouthwash, watching it penetrate, just like human teeth. It had to be chalk.

It was ivory.

I would have been out quickly. That was kinda scary to think about.

Gary went on and I got to wait in the wings. By wait, I mean pace relentlessly and drink bottled water, hoping Gary did well. Since the show had no Fastest Finger, you really could root for everyone. Moreover, I was wearing my new suit, and if I was even shown on camera doing the wave thing, I'd have to change into my other suit for the next show. Dammit, I liked this suit, and I wanted to wear it.

Eventually that irritating horn noise went of and Gary was up to $8,000. We were done for the day. It was almost seven.

Chrissy and Jill and I went out do dinner, walked around the city, just had fun. We took a carriage ride in Central Park and did whatever we could to distract ourselves. Mostly me. Even if Gary ran up to a million, I'd be on Wednesday's show. That thought terrified me on a regular basis, and here I had two days (with no Tuesday taping) to dwell on it.

Believe me, it's not the kind of thing you can just put away.

Jill told me later that I was much calmer than she though. Apparently, I just hide it well.

Tuesday Jill and I went to hang out in Greenwich Village, and to do some more sightseeing. We had a real, honest to God New York bagel. For those of you who haven't: There is a difference. Man, I still have flashbacks to that thing.

That night we were going to see a Broadway show. We didn't know which one. All we knew is that Tom would make fun of my sexual orientation because of it. "Hey, dude, I was with two pretty girls. Top that."

(Tom wasn't serious, but this was a running joke between us. I promised him I'd give him some digital ink in my review. Now he's regretting it, I bet.)

Y'see, there's this cool thing in Times Square called TKTS. They offer half-price tickets to most Broadway shows. The catch is, it's first come, first serve, and there's no guarantee what shows will be available.

There was one show I really wanted to see. "Dance of the Vampires." It starred Michael Crawford, of "Phantom of the Opera" fame and, more importantly to me, all the music was by Jim Steinman. Jim wrote most of Meatloaf's good stuff... "Paradise by the Dashboard Light," "Took the Words Right Out of my Mouth," "Anything For Love" as well as "Holdin' Out for a Hero" my personal favorite "Original Sin" used the "The Shadow" movie, and a bunch of other seven-minute long rock anthems with absurdly clever lyrics. The show had played in England, and was now in previews in NYC.

I so wanted to see this show I was willing to pay full price. I called our concierge at the hotel, Gunter, and asked for tickets. He responded that "Vampires" was in previews, so there weren't any tickets to be had. He doubted that there would be any at TKTS. Moreover, it was Tuesday, and most theatres are dark (closed) on Tuesdays.

The three of us, as Chrissy had now rejoined us, waiting in the TKTS line figuring anything would be fine. We were all live theatre fans. "Lion King," "Chicago," heck, there were a ton of good shows.

While you wait in line, people are paid to try to sell you on things. Restaurants, other shows, etc. Most of them were very nice and not at all obnoxious. Our favorite, though, was a lady who came up to us asking: "Do you want tickets to go see 'Millionaire' with Meredith Viera?"

We all laughed, confusing the poor lady. "We already have seats," I said, "and trust us, they're much better than yours."

When we got up to the counter, guess what? Plenty of tickets for "Dance of the Vampires."

We bummed around Times Square a little. Things were crowded, as any number of live TV shows were filming. In the second floor of the MTV Studios they were filming Total Request Live, and...

Okay, a moment here. Yeah, sometimes in these con reports I tell jokes. Maybe even exaggerate for effect. The following paragraph, however, is completely true. ...in one of the full length window panes we could see Justin Timberlake and Jennifer Lopez. In the next, her ass. I am not making that up.

We went to the Times Square Toys R Us, too, which featured a full-size ferris wheel in the center. Of course, we had to ride. Each car had a theme: Spider-Man, Monopoly, Barbie, Cap page Patch, Toy Story...All of us, but especially my two companions, were fans of "Toy Story." Guess which one we got?

I was afraid I was burning all my luck up. The right car and "Dance of the Vampires." I needed some of this for tomorrow.

We ate that night at a restaurant that my friend Kate had taken me to before on one of my previous New York jaunts, called Mars 2112. This was a cheesily-themed sci-fi restaurant with theme restaurant food and costumed aliens and Space Captains instead of waitresses and waiters.

It's hokey. It's goofy. But, darn it, it's just so much fun!

Then we walked to the theatre to see "Vampires." It's based on a Roman Polanski (everyone's favorite Academy Award winning child molester) film, a hokey vampire story from the seventies. The ushers all wore Dracula capes. That kind of set the theme for the night.

The play isn't great. It kind of fluctuates between being an angst-ridden vampire story and a wacky Broadway musical, heavy on the wacky. The program book said that there was only one song that Steinman lifted for the play, putting the Bonnie Tyler "Total Eclipse of the Heart" as the love theme.

Strange, but I also recognized "Objects in the Rear View Mirror" and "Original Sin" which was broken into two songs from earlier Steinman albums. Maybe Jim had these written for the musical fifteen years ago, but I doubt it.

Silly as it was, I enjoyed it. Rene Aberjonous, "Clayton" from "Benson," and "Odo" from "Deep Space Nine" was there, too as the Van Helsing-esque character. His song, a modern riff on "Modern Major General" was really fun.

There's one song, too, where Michael Crawford, the lead vampire, sings about how he's killed everything he's ever loved. It stands out as the serious and most Steinman-like song in the group. This was the kind of song I expected more of. Steinman is supposedly writing the music for the inevitable train wreck that will be the Batman musical. I don't think it's a good idea, but he's the perfect choice for it.

We had some Lindy's New York Cheesecake (also very good) after the show, and headed back to the hotel for me to attempt to sleep before tomorrow.

Gary gets his $16,000 question. It's one before a safe haven.

Which of these is not a sacrament in the Catholic Church:
a. Reconciliation	b. Marriage
c. Communion	d. Redemption

Gary's not Catholic, and has already burned his phone-a-friend and ask-the-audience. So he 50/50s the question and he's left with Marriage and Renewal. He reasons it out and finally says "Marriage." Wrong.

It's another telling tale. You see, Gary knew the answer. He had gotten it. what had happened, though, was that he'd been staring at the question for so long, he forgot the wording said "not." And as a 50/50, he only had the right and wrong to look at. He didn't go back and read the question, displayed on his screen. The pressure got him, and he went out at $1000.

The crowd applauded as Gary walked off and they pushed me on to the stage. Meredith was saying something, but I'll be damned if I know what. I couldn't hear. I walked up to Meredith, who took my hand, kissed me, and pulled me onto the platform. I sat down and we chatted a little bit.

I'm an inveterate self-promoter. Always have been. I was hoping we'd talk about my comic book, which would allow me to plug it and hopefully spike the sales of my first graphic novel. But remember how I tried to write the funniest questionnaire answers ever? Here's where it came back to bite me a bit.

"So," Meredith says, "it says here you're 'tragically single.'" The exact words I used on the questionnaire. Meredith wanted to talk about me being sans-girlfriend. She was pimping me on TV.

Let me say this, too, about Meredith. She's a very pretty, sweet, and remarkably calming woman. She does everything she can to make you feel comfortable, given the fact that you're in the middle of a TV studio, surrounded by people watching your every move, trying to play for a million dollars, and hoping not to screw up in front of America.

That can't be an easy job, and she does it well. I'll be the first to admit she doesn't have the presence of Regis, but right then, she was perfect.

She even wrote all the contestants a handwritten note saying how much she enjoyed meeting us. She probably wrote from a form letter, I realize, but she wrote it by hand. And she didn't have to. They put me up in a hotel for five days, paid my way, paid me a per diem, and let me play for big money. I didn't expect a note.

I also learned one of the Truths of Millionaire. It's different when you're in the chair.

My first question was:

1. According to legend, what supernatural being uses a broom to fly
a. Witch	b. Werewolf
c. Vampire	d. Magical Janitor

Broom, right? No big deal, right? Yeah, you say that now, but everything you've ever known is flooding into your head and it's an easy question but are you sure? I mean really, you're on national TV being watched by everyone. Do you want to screw up and go home with nothing in front of God, your third grade teacher, your five ex-girlfriends and Estella Warren, who just heard Meredith say you were single and was thinking that maybe she'd give you a call.

We like to call that pressure, my friend.

Plus, I wanted to be witty and charming. I'm only half joking when I've said I hope this is my big break. I love the TV show "Angel" and have friends on it. For all I know, the producer is a "Millionaire" fanatic as is thinking "Hey, there's my new mucous demon."

So what joke was I thinking of? Well, my Mom loves to say that she'll get on her broomstick and fly away. Was I supposed to say that? First of all, what if I was wrong at it wasn't "witch." Moreover, do you want your first major TV appearance to be comparing the woman who gave you life to Margaret Hamilton in "Wizard of Oz."

I just said "A. Witch. Final answer."

In the Green Room, my friends and the newbies were watching. The newbies, I'm told, said "Goodness, look at him. He's so calm." My friends said "You don't understand. He should be cracking a joke right now. He's scared."

2. Diana Ross was the lead singer of what 1960s pop group
a. The Chiffons	b. The Ronettes
c. The Supremes	d. The Vandellas

I'll be honest. I have no memory of this question whatsoever.

3. St. Louis, Missouri is commonly nicknamed the "Gateway to the" what?
a. Future	b. Heavens
c. River	d. The West

Sure, St. Louis is the Gateway to the West. And you want to say something funny. But are you sure it's not the Future?

4. In 1984, who became the first woman to run for U.S. Vice President on a major party ticket?
a. Geraldine Ferraro	b. Barbara Boxer
c. Dianne Feinstein	d. Pat Schroeder

That's right, A. Geraldine Ferarro

5. What sign of the Zodiac gets its name from a Latin word meaning "water carrier?"
a. Virgo	b. Aquarius
c. Gemini	d. Capricorn

Okay, Aquarius was the obvious choice, but in my mind, I had this crystal clear picture of Virgo carrying jugs of water. I didn't think this'd be a hard question, but it seemed like there were occasionally these "spike" questions which were much harder that the level they were at.

I had the same paranoia as Jeremiah. I didn't want to say "I think it's Aquarius but maybe it's Virgo" for fear those would be the only two left when I 50/50'd. I was playing for $32K, so I figured, burn the lifeline.

50/50, and all that was left was Virgo and Aquarius.

I bit the bullet and said Aquarius. That was my first guess, my gut reaction, and I couldn't bring myself to use so many lifelines on this seemingly simple question. I got it right.

Months later I relate this question to my brother Mike who, by virtue of being my brother, had much the same childhood as me. When he answered he said "Virgo. She was always carrying those jugs of water."

6. In 1981, who replaced Water Cronkite as the anchor of the CBS Evening News?
a. Tom Brokaw	b. Mike Wallace
c. Peter Jennings	d. Dan Rather

D. Dan Rather. Again, I don't even remember the question.

7. According to legend, Dr. Faustus sells what to the devil?
a. His soul	b. His knowledge
c. His children	d. His hands

Did you know James Taylor is the voice of God in the Randy Newman rock opera of this? I did, and I also knew that it was a., his soul.

The producers warned me that Meredith might ask about my singlehood. I was a little worried the first day because I brought Jill, who I sometimes refer to as My Completely Platonic Friend Jill Just So We're Clear. I thought she might question us on the topic, asking why we never dated. Jill and I worked out our answers that night:

"Jill is too much a woman of class and breeding to have ever gone out with me."

"Thom is like the Taller Brother I never wanted."

So when we came back from the break, Meredith threw me a curve and asked about my last girlfriend, trying to figure out was I was still solo. I went deer in the headlights. My social life was, shall we say, complicated at the moment. And while I wasn't formally dating anyone, there were messy issues all around. I didn't go into them there, I ain't going into them here. But out of all the questions I got, this was the toughest.

Finally I recovered and said "Let's talk about that after I win the million." Being rich would cover a bunch of sins, I figured.

Still, that was the toughest question of the show.

8. In 1885, what world leader commissioned Peter Carl Fabergé to create his famed jeweled eggs?
a. Otto Von Bismarck	b. Czar Alexander III
c. Queen Victoria	d. Napoleon

Okay, so I know that Faberge eggs are made in Russia. But French Fries aren't French and the American staple Hamburger came from Germany. I really wanted to save a lifeline, and there was only one Russian name on the list. Went with my gut again and was right, again.

I was living on borrowed time.

9. In the 1981 movie "On Golden Pond" Norman is obsessed with catching a giant fish named what?
a. Walter	b. El Capitan
c. Sherman	d. The Kaiser

Yeah, I'm a theatre guy. Even seen "On Golden Pond" live. I had no idea what the name of that fish was. No clue. But it was pop culture, a perfect question for the audience. Plus, you had to figure demographics.

The movie version came out in the early 80s. Most people in the studio were New Yorkers or people on vacation. By virtue of the fact it was an afternoon show, they were generally older with vacation time so they could be here. They would have seen it in its heyday. They said it was A. Walter.

Thank God they were right.

10. What comic strip is the origin of Sadie Hawkins Day, a day when women as men out on dates?
a. Li'l Abner	b. Gasoline Alley
c. Blondie	d. Pogo

A comic book question! Can you believe it? A comic book, well, strip question! Not only did I know the answer, but I could tell you what page of the Ken Muse "Cartooning" book I remember reading it on. Except..

...man, it was a comic book question. How lame would it to be to be a comics guy and go out on a comic question. I'd never live that down. And a lot of stuff came out of Gasoline Alley. Still, I knew I knew it, and with the appropriate amount of fear, I answered "Lila Banner."

The fear, however, kept me from being to cocky. When I was right, though, I relaxed and said "My mom always said I'd never make money in cartooning. Guess she was wrong." Then quickly added, "But she's very supportive now." (That part was cut from the aired episode.)

My mom's a difficult, trying, tornado of a woman, with whom I've clashed any number of times. She told me there was no money in comics, yet sacrificed to send me to art school. And, now that I've proven her wrong by being a successful comic book artist, something as rare as a four-leaf clover, she gleefully eats her words.

11. In 1936, Charles Goren left his law practice to become one of the world's leading experts in what game?
a. Poker	b. Billiards
c. Chess	d. Bridge

Who the hell is Charles Goren?

My gut said poker. He was probably like Gabe Kaplan, who quit his job as an actor to become a gambler. I mean, you're a lawyer. This question seemed to say that he was successful. How do you quit a law job to become an expert in pool?

But fine, I had a lifeline. The question was who? I had it down to two. My friend Bob was a lawyer, and maybe this was some bit of lawyer trivia they're taught. But it was a game/sports question, and my friend Mike's friend Mike was a backstop guy. He knew a lot about what I didn't know. Hooking on "sport" in the question, I called Mike.

Several things went wrong.

I apparently hadn't told Mike to make sure he was on the internet. I thought I had, but no. I knew he was at work with a DSL connection. And he was by himself, so no one else was around to help him. You're only supposed to have one person on every call, but as long as everyone's quiet they don't care.

I didn't spell Gorman's name until halfway through my thirty seconds, when he did type it in to Google. A screen full of the right answer came up the second after the line went dead.

So Mike says "I think it's bridge. But that's just a guess."

Not the most resounding confident answer I had ever heard. It was a free guess. If I was wrong, I essentially lost nothing and walked with $32K, which is what I said I'd play for anyway. So I figured, if you're going to go out on a guess, go out on your guess. "Having called my lifeline, I'm now going to go with my own guess." And then I said "poker."

Somewhere in the building, all my friends in the Green Room were screaming "Nooooooo." They knew.

It was bridge.

My game was over.

I've had six months to relive that moment, particularly vividly as I write this paragraph on the day before my episode airs. But you know what? I did the right thing.

Should I have called Bob, who I found out knew the answer cold? Yeah. And then what, would I have gotten the next question right? Would I have been brave enough to walk away if I hadn't? What if I got a "chalk" question and thought I was right and was wrong anyway. What if I pulled a Gary and read the question wrong? There are no guarantees that I would have had more.

But as I drove home the next day, with plenty of quiet time to obsess about zigging when I should have zagged, to quote, for probably the last time in my life, "Star Trek V: The Mistake" I had the confidence of going with my gut.

Sure I was wrong. But what if it had been poker and I'd gone with Mike's anyway? Then I'd have to live with not trusting myself and losing out too. I still think I made the best decision possible with the information I had. And that's saying a lot.

It was the wrong choice, but it wasn't a bad choice.

That night, Chrissy and Tom (who were up to play the next day) and Jill and I went out to dinner. I tried to pay, but Tom wouldn't let me.

We went to a comedy club, then, where we saw a bunch of comics. Some good, some bad, some Colin Quinn, who is a contradiction. He's a funny guy with crappy delivery. I love "Tough Crowd" with Colin Quinn. I think it's great, even if he isn't.

We also saw an Iranian comic named "Hood," which he says is Arabic for "the covering of your car's engine." He's hysterical. You ever get a chance to see him, you go. You won't regret it.

I wished Chrissy and Tom luck, and Jill and I left for home.

I'm happy with what I did. Hey, I'm still $32,000 up. Heck, I earned more in five minutes talking to Meredith than I had working for a year at an ad agency. I've got enough to go to Australia (a dream trip of mine) in style, take someone if I have someone to take, bought a 22" monitor for my computer (which is tax-deductable, too) and still have a good chunk to save. I didn't embarrass myself. And, from what I'm told, the audience was mystified when I said I was single. Who knows what'll happen when this airs? Maybe Estella Warren will call.

The capper of the trip was the weekend I got home. Colleen, it seems, decided to go into labor a week early. She never was very patient. That Saturday, I was at the hospital when she gave birth to their first child, and more importantly, my first Godchild, Erin Faye. (I wasn't in the delivery room, mind you, just hanging out in the waiting room with Colleen's father.) I got to hold her within a couple hours of her birth. I was the seventh person or so to touch her.

And I realized that I had a great trip and a wonderful time. I met some great people, new friends, many of whom I'm still in touch with.

More importantly, that I had a beautiful new girl in my life. One who would hopefully start thinking of me as her Cool Uncle Thom, one that I could use for bait at malls to meet women, one that I could feed too much sugar and hand off to her parents while I went home, one who was just the epitome of cute and adorable.

She'd just have to pay for college herself