The fact that my older sister wanted to watch “Peyton Place” created some television-access tension. At its peak, the prime-time soap aired something like three nights a week. And it conflicted with programs I wanted to watch. I'm not sure how this was resolved. After all, it wasn't like recording shows was an option.
Maybe it was on after my bedtime some nights, at least during the school year. Or perhaps my sister grew weary of my running critique of the show's implausible narrative arc and went across the street to watch it with a friend.
Oddly enough, in subsequent years I found myself turning into a bit of a Barbara Parkins fan.