Sibling Rivalry: How'd You Torment Your Brothers & Sisters?
Every Friday, I post a series of unrelated questions meant to spark conversation in the comments. Answer one, answer all, respond to someone else's reply, whatever you want. Very casual. On to this week's topics of discussion...
1. My sister and I always seemed to get along. Sure, we had our moments—like the time I broke the gigantic candy cane our neighbor had given her (English Family Trivia: That neighbor would later go to jail for trying to kill his wife. Store it away.) But our childhood was nothing like the combative early years my wife spent with her brother. Soon after coming into the world, he had to put up with a two-year-old sister hurling books into his crib. She beat him with a wooden spoon and he punched holes in her wall. But through it all, they're extremely close. No harm, no foul. (Well, some harm. But wooden spoon welts eventually fade away.)
My wife is pregnant with our second child, which should sufficiently shake up the lives of Charlotte and Bailey (pictured). So I'm in the mood to hear about all the crazy things you did to your siblings, and vice versa. Did they forgive you?
These next few questions are from the archives. Because response to the Friday Happy Hour is way, way up in 2010 (thanks guys!), I'm hoping people haven't seen these questions, or that they weren't very memorable the first time around...
2. Back in middle school, I was rapid with the record button. Between 1991 and 1993—my definitive VCR days—I taped nearly every episode of Saturday Night Live, Cheers and Seinfeld, plus rare treasures like "A Concert for Life" and the 1992 NFL Pro Bowl. Sadly, I was unable to locate any episodes of The Magic Hour, which I distinctly remember recording in 1998.
Today's second topic: what's the most intriguing VHS tape you still own? [I'm not looking for movies you bought in VHS format. Rather, stuff you've taped from TV or shot yourself.]
3. A couple years ago, I wrote something called "Fictional Sitcom Employers For Which I'd Like To Work." The list included Spacely Sprockets (three-day work week/three-hour work day), the Malibu Sands Beach Club (or any Malibu establishment willing to also hire all my friends) and Mr. Drummond's company (they weren't the best corporate citizen, but I feel like I could have made a difference). What fictional sitcom employer would you like to work for?
4. Growing up, my town's intramural basketball program had one really intense referee. He fancied himself a professional, and wasn't above hitting eight-year-olds with technical fouls.
One time, in third grade, an errant shot bounced up onto the stage (the gym was an all-purpose room, provided those purposes were basketball, physical education classes and school assemblies). I hopped up to retrieve it and walked back toward the court. At that moment, the ref blew his whistle, spinning his arms in an exaggerated manner. "Traveling!" he exclaimed. I was not very good at basketball, but I could see the boundary line and knew the stage was beyond it. "I never stopped play," he barked, using every ounce of his limited power. "Only I decide what's out of bounds."
So today's last question is this: What's your best, worst or most absurd youth sports memory?
Have a great weekend, and Happy Easter!
[See all the previous Friday Happy Hour transcripts.]