My childhood was just full of amazingness and craziness all wrapped up in one silly package. The other day, as I was getting coffee with my older brother and we were talking about the good ol’ days when we all were young and foolish. Indeed, for him, I emphasized the latter quality. WWF–for those Philistines who are oh-so ignorant to this phenomenon that plagued a whole demographic–stood for the World Wrestling Federation and also once stood for my brother’s crushed dreams, and our crushed buffet furniture!
When he was 13, making me about 10 years old, he and his friends would watch the newest installment of the WWF matches. On this particular day, Hulk Hogan and Randy "The Macho Man" Savage were set to "square off" in their "fight". Within the first few minutes, the tanned Hogan put The Macho Man into a choke-hold and slammed him into a large fold-out table. The crowd cheered. My brother knocked on the living room table with his fist in excitement.
My brother and his gang of scrawny friends immediately found inspiration during the match and in between when the commercials were running, they would wildly throw each other around using the pillows as cushions. Again, thirteen year olds. Well, unfortunately for them, they failed to set up perimeters of the ring. Instead, the whole house was to be used as a ring. That’s when I heard a loud "THWAP!". Turns out, someone had thrown my brother onto our Cherry Finished Sideboard thinking that it would fold like the table on TV but alas, this sideboard was much too sturdy. He came out OK; he just had to lie on his back for a week-straight and live to tell the embarassing story or at least sit there mortified while I re-told the story of the day my brother fell on a sideboard.
