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That’s the $1-Million Question?

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OK, here’s your big chance: Answer this question correctly and you’ll never have to worry about living out your sunset years in a charity ward: “What character sang the aria “Sempre libera” in the opera “La Traviata”?

What’s that, you say? It’s too hard? Too obscure? What do you mean, you expected something like “What color is an Oreo cookie?” Everyone knows the color of an Oreo cookie! Who wants to see some stammering nincompoop struggle with a question as simple as that? What kind of quiz show would resort to the Oreo-cookie question?

Oh.

The most popular quiz show in recent memory.

I’m not sure why “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” was so phenomenally successful. I do know that last week it accounted for seven of America’s nine most-watched programs. And that producers are talking about bringing it back in January. And that it surfaced at more Thanksgiving tables than even Nielsen can count:

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“More turkey, please.”

“White meat or dark?”

“Dark.”

“Dark, then. Is that your final answer?”

The diner shuts his eyes and frowns as if he has just been asked something utterly impossible, like Joan of Arc’s middle name.

“White, dark, white, dark, dark, white--gee, I dunno, I’ve never answered a question this difficult, but--well, I’m just going to go out on a limb here, Regis: It’s -- it’s, and please pray for me, Mama--it’s dark, and yes, yes, that’s my final answer!”

So you want to be a millionaire?

It’s a whole lot easier than it used to be.

“It’s laughably easy,” said Larry Jones, the history teacher who coached Moorpark High School to the top of the national Academic Decathlon. “My students keep telling me I ought to go on, but I’d probably miss the pop-culture questions like: ‘Which of these is not a Pokemon character?’ ”

Never before have so many mopped their foreheads over so little for so much. These days all you have to do for a cool million is answer 15 questions--multiple choice, at that. If you don’t know an answer, you get a couple of chances to call a friend or ask the audience.

The Oreo question might seem black-and-white to you, but it was an honest-to-God “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” puzzler.

Another was about what the emperor was wearing in “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” And the meaning of “as the crow flies.” And--the only million-dollar question to date--the president who appeared on the old TV show, “Laugh-In.”

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The answers are: nothing, straight and Nixon. Sweating contestants required outside help for the first two.

Back in 1958, a handsome young literature professor named Charles Van Doren had to appear on 14 weekly installments of “Twenty-One” before he waltzed off with $129,000, countless marriage proposals, a book contract and a job with NBC.

He didn’t get any Oreo questions. He got the question about who sang the aria ‘Sempre libera” in “La Traviata.” It was tough, but he closed his eyes, frowned and managed to stammer out the correct answer: “She sings it right at the end of the party given by--What’s her name! Soprano. Her name is--Violetta!”

Van Doren also astonished millions of fans with the breadth of his knowledge. Asked to name the only three baseball players with more than 3,500 hits, he replied: “Ty Cobb, Cap Anson--and Tris Speaker!”

And he was right!

Of course, the show was rigged.

But that’s not the point.

The point is that in mid-century, our parents were captivated by Van Doren’s cerebral high-wire act. They oohed and aahed at what appeared to be remarkable achievements of a highly disciplined intellect.

Today, we’re not oohing and aahing over intellectual acrobatics. Instead, we’re watching rapt as folks who are no smarter than the average bear answer questions a lot easier than those that were polished off so handily by the kids from Moorpark High School.

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Is this a sign of:

a)Our lust for a quick buck?

b)Armageddon?

c)Lead poisoning?

d)The dumbing-down of everything in general?

Is that your final answer?

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Steve Chawkins can be reached at 653-7561 or by e-mail at steve.chawkins@latimes.com.

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