Would you rather have one free trip to space or free international travel for life?
This one is easy for me, I would take free international travel for life. There's an odd allure to travel to space but I just don't feel like the experience would be as fulfilling as knowing I can go everywhere in the world I have thought about. Among the places on my wish list: Australia, Italy, France, Germany, Amsterdam, Ireland, England, Greece, Fiji.
What's your middle name? Do you like it?
I o not have a middle name. I don't know why, perhaps it wasn't as trendy in the mid 1960's when I was born or my parents didn't think that far ahead.
Name a time when you got into big trouble with your parents.
This was during the wild and crazy party years and was a time when I got drunker than ever before (and since). I was probably around 21ish when it happened and it's almost embarrassing to recall, but it happened. I was hanging out on the corner with my friends Dave and Mike.
We had Southern Comfort (it was the last time I ever touched that stuff) mixed with Coca-Cola. Mike was taking it very easy that night but Dave and I were putting it away pretty good. It was odd because it seemed like we were pretty deep in and while I recall a pretty good buzz, perhaps a little tilt beyond, but not as bad as I thought - this is dangerous to a young idiot (which was me on that night).
Some time after, Dave began to get way less coherent, which I recall made me laugh really hard. Then, Dave started chucking with reckless abandon and I laughed harder. Mike looked at me and said, you might want to ease up on the laughter, you're not far behind. Almost on cue, I too began to chuck something fierce (and it was the very last time I ever vomited - more than a quarter of a century ago); whole strands of spaghetti were shooting out of my mouth and dare I say it, my nose - it was grotesque.
Mike told me to stay put as he lifted Dave and assisted him to his front door, a good block away. I was out like a light when Mike returned to fetch me, lifted me from the ground then dragged me up the block to my house (which was right next to his). He pretty much literally dropped me at my doorstep then rang the bell. I don't recall what happened after that but here's the story I got the next day...my dad told me he carried me up to my room and when he asked for my key (I kept my room door locked) I gave him my watch (which rightfully pissed him off). I guess he found the key and dropped me on my bed. I came down the next morning joining everyone else at the table and it was not pretty.
Show and Tell. What comes to mind first when you see this picture? Or, tell a story if it reminds you of one.
Part of my brain sees balloons and part of it sees jelly beans. I love balloons, I always have. They always evoke a festive spirit to me and jelly beans, come on, it was the one thing about Ronald Reagan I respected (his love for jelly beans).