How Silver Spoons Ruined My Life

So, I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about arcade video game cabinets, slot machines, etc. and somehow it made me think of the old 80's show, Silver Spoons starring (then) Ricky Schroeder as the spoiled rich kid, Alfonso Ribeiro as the token black friend and Erin Gray as the hot future step-mom. Anyway, if you're not familiar with the show, I'll try to jiggle your memory. It was about a rich kid and his dad, who ran some toy company and thusly had all kinds of badass toys and gadgetry in their home. One of their badass toys was this miniature train that ran through their house that they would ride from one room to the next, if that doesn't tip you off then you just have no clue what I'm talking about. (Here's some Youtube clips) It had an awesome theme song. Anyway, they had this kickass layout in their family room with arcade cabinets and pinball machines along the wall, he had a fucking racecar bed before they were made out of plastic and available at retailers everywhere, and of course the icing on the cake was that damn train.

So, how did that ruin my life you ask? Well, shit imagine a five or six year old me, or any boy for that matter. Who didn't want any of that stuff. Hell, I'm 31 now and I would give your left testicle for the stuff that kid had. So, now I still aspire to have this stuff and it's just not happening. The worst part was that they never (or rarely) even used those things on the show. If you're not going to use them, why even bother having them? Give them to some poor, young, deserving boy whose parents can't afford to buy him a decent pair of pants; someone like me.

So, yeah that show ruined my life because it set up all these false hopes and aspirations that could only be fulfilled by a handful of people. By default, if you ever watched that show and envied little Ricky Schroeder's spoiled lifestyle, you were destined for failure. Maybe it's the reason I am the way I am today. Refusing to grow up, videogame collection in the hundreds, toys all up in the den (in complete packaging mind you to preserve their minty freshness), and the overall maturity of an eleven year old. I mean, I still laugh when I hear people discussing history and how before paper it was all passed down orally. Or how about this inappropriate time, when I used to sit in my Administration of Justice class and they would discuss the penal code. Yeah, eleven year old, might be giving myself too much credit.