Weltschmerz

Congratulations to eighth-grader Katharine Close of Spring Lake, New Jersey, for her big victory in the National Spelling Bee last night. To win the title, Ms. Close correctly spelled "weltschmerz," which means "sadness over the evils of the world," and then she nailed "ursprache," which means something else that I'm too lazy to look up. She is the first female to win the NSB since 1999.

Now, this is not well-known, but I was quite the speller in grade school. I routinely won the spelling bees in my junior high school classes. But, much like the Buffalo Bills, I was never able to win the "big one," the school spelling bee, which took place once a year, and included the 6th, 7th, and 8th grade classes. The closest I came was second place in the 7th grade, when M. M., the whiz-smart older brother of one of my best friends, M.M. (they had the same initials, you do the math), beat me to win the whole thing.

But here's a big scoop for everyone that nobody knows: when it came down to the two of us, M.M. actually tried to throw the spelling bee and have me win. Why? The winner would have had to go to Nashua, N.H. for the state event, and he just didn't feel like going. M.M. was a strange bird. I think he's working for Lockheed Martin now.

Anyway, before he went to the podium during our first word showdown, M.M. whispered to me that he didn't feel like going to Nashua, and that he was going to misspell the next word on purpose. I didn't believe him, and I think I said to him something really profound, like "Yeah, right." Well, true to his word, M.M. went to the podium and intentionally misspelled the word "aspirin." The audience gasped because it was such an easy word. (I mean, we weren't talking "weltschmerz" here.)

Now, it was my turn. If I spelled "aspirin" right, I would only have to spell one more word correctly, and if I spelled that second word right, I would win the whole enchilada and bask in southern N.H. spelling glory forever.

My 37 year-old memory on this is admittedly a little hazy, but I remember that I went to the podium and intentionally misspelled "aspirin," which I definitely knew how to spell. I was really pissed that M.M. was trying to throw the contest, and I didn't want to win by default just because he was too damn lazy to take the hour bus ride to Nashua the following weekend. It was like he had come this far, proven his point, and was now trying to scrape dry dogshit off his shoe. I, who had loved and respected spelling and spelling bees since I watched the "Peanuts" cartoon where Charlie Brown goes to the spelling bee and loses, was having none of this. M.M. was disrepecting the forum and spelling in general, and I wasn't going to play his game.

When I returned to my seat after misspelling "aspirin," M.M. was incredulous. He was smiling and laughing to himself, and he said to me, "What are you doing?" I told him that I didn't want to win that way. He came to his senses then, because he got up and spelled the next word correctly. We then word-dueled for a little bit longer before I was thrown by a word that I can't remember for the life of me. M.M. ultimately won the contest fair and square and the integrity of the spelling bee was upheld. I think he went on to win in Nashua too, but I need to check my facts on that.

Anyway, congratulations to Katharine Close. Spelling is truly an art form and a sign of intelligence. There are too many lousy adult spellers to count in this world.

Oh, and the irony of the definition of "weltschmerz" is just beauteefull. I mean beautiful.