Hacienda

Alright, it's high time for King Fun to dig out his velcro-clad blue fabric triptych wallet (circa 1988) and flash his nerd credentials: The National Spelling Bee is currently broadcasting its early rounds LIVE on ESPN, and outside my office I can hear those English language cruelties foisted upon the kiddies, along with their accompanying appeals for pronunciation, definitions, parts-of-speech clarifications, etc. etc., before plunging headlong into awful public silence as the flotsam of letters stream through their prepubescent brains like falling, acid green Matrix code and the desparate prayers of everyone that somehow it all works out fine on the other end of things and they live to see another ten-dollar word. The Triumph of Victory! The Agony of Defeat (signaled by, no less, the awful mincing *ping* of a hotel reception desk bell)!

It's high drama indeed (No wonder it's being broadcast in primetime tonight on ABC. Holla!), and I am HOOKED. The celebration of competition, of poignant memories of our own gawky youth, of the indelible effect that misspelled words have on us in that nerve-shredding moment--it's all there and more.

Why do you think I'll remember "hacienda" for the rest of my life? Why do you think there's that one word that haunts you in your sleep?