The Ithaca Journal (New York), November 15, 2005, Tuesday

Copyright 2005 The Ithaca Journal (Ithaca, NY)
All Rights Reserved
The Ithaca Journal (New York)

November 15, 2005 Tuesday 1 Edition

SECTION: LOCAL; Pg. 1B

HEADLINE: 'Word nerds' get buzzed on spelling bee

BYLINE: Roger Dupuis II

BODY:
I knew this much: The stakes were high. The potential for embarrassment was great. No less than our collective honor as an institution was at stake.
A woman standing nearby at the registration table soon disabused me of all such notions of grandeur.
"Oh, you're from The Ithaca Journal? You guys can't spell, anyway," she chortled. I think the best I could manage in return was a bemused, slightly sneering guffaw.
Like I said, the stakes were high for Sunday's seventh annual Ithaca Public Education Initiative Adult Spelling Bee.
This is, after all, a town where education and the pursuit of knowledge are more than just buzzwords, but our chief industry, our very way of life. Ithaca is said to be one of the most - if not the most - highly educated of Gannett newspaper markets in America, a fact we're proud of.
And reminded of. Daily. Many times.
So it was naturally humbling when we, representing the wordsmiths, went down for the count after only three words.
Our team consisted of me; Buzz editor, former copy editor and IPEI bee second-year veteran Mary Ciaramello; and Scott Winner from The Journal's circulation department, a former teacher.
Following a painfully pregnant pause, we pulled the correct spelling of pettifog, our first challenge, out of the air. The second, word, menorah, we dished up as smooth as butter.
Then, like a bolt of lightning, ceraunograph struck, and we were done for. The disqualification bell rang, and one could almost hear the thunderclap: "Thus spake Casey Stevens!"
(With apologies to Stevens, the announcer and local radio host. And to Zarathustra. But I digress.)
A ceraunograph, for those who may not know, is an instrument used for recording thunder and lightning. We didn't know that. I'll never forget it now. I'll probably never use it again, either.
Enter the bees. Two very nice little girls, dressed in apian garb - complete with golden wings, no less - buzzed over to each departing team to present the members with little bee pins.
Some teams headed home after their elimination. Not us. Pride aside, this was contest to be relished, and the action was, well, exciting. We stayed until the bitter end.
"It's great to see so many people in the community who value education and who are 'word nerds' like me," my teammate Ciaramello observed.
This being Ithaca, we're hardly the only word nerds.
Participants really got into the spirit, from team names to get-up. The South Hill Spellicans - among the crowd's favorites - brought a stuffed pelican as their mascot. Cornell University's School of Industrial and Labor Relations fielded the aptly named Worker Bees. Hospicare's Bee-U-Ties came decked out in glam-fabulous wigs and tiaras.
It was gratifying, too, to be in such good company. The participants included a cross-section of local folks: Writers and doctors, professors and teachers, parent groups and accountants, real estate agents, school administrators, bankers and youth workers, an assemblywoman and a former county Legislature chairwoman.
A true family event, the audience drew spectators of all ages, and all for a good cause. It was a particularly classy gesture that the audience applauded each eliminated team as a mark of respect A- and for some pretty remarkable saves as well.
But in the end, the devil was in the details, you might say.
The final word was energumen, referring to one believed to be possessed by an evil spirit or demon. Being possessed by a few evil spirits myself, you'll notice I've made you wait this long to learn who the winners were.
Bee Cider Selves A- Michael Cuddy, Lisa Harris and Melina Carnicelli from the Ithaca City School District Executive Team - took home the big stuffed bee trophy, presented by "Queen Bee" and Ithaca Alderwoman Michelle Berry.
Congratulations to all on a truly Palladian event.
Roger DuPuis is The Journal's metro editor.