McDreamy Could Never Take a Chair Shot..

I am a fan of professional wrestling.

                There.  I said it.  Publicly.  Over the interwebs.  It isn’t exactly a secret if you know me or you follow this blog.   I have been a fan since the mid 80s when I was just a wee little Licious in my hometown of Valders, Wisconsin.  The old school WWF was part of my childhood and teenage years.  It has been with me ever since and probably won’t ever go anywhere.

                Now I know there is a negative connotation associated with pro wrestling.  “It’s fake!” will be the first thing the ignorant people will blurt out when they just want to seem like they are better than you.  Okay.  You aren’t wrong.  However, if you are going to point out that it is fake, I will just point out the fact that professional wrestling is entertainment.  You know what else is fake and entertainment?  That Grey’s Anatomy that you’ve been watching.  So is Glee.  Law and Order?   That is fake and entertainment as well.   That stage play or ballet you just saw?   That ain’t real either.  Neither are the breasts on that stripper you are fawn at every Wednesday at amateur night.  

                The doubters then always like to throw out that wrestling is trying to make you think that it is real.  Hmmm.  Not really.  They call themselves “sports entertainment” for a reason.  Then again, when you are telling me how great this week’s episode of Community was, I don’t say “why do they try to make you think that stuff really happens at a community college?”  People accept it for what it is, a television show portraying a fictional story.  That is what pro wrestling is.  It is a fictional story with a live performance.   So, some of you need to stop insulting the intelligence of wrestling fans you associate with.  They know it isn’t real just like you know that a doctor couldn’t get away with all the shit that House does on a weekly basis.

                Last night I exercised my right to enjoy professional wrestling when WWE Monday Night RAW came to Green Bay.  I was able to snag a front row seat for the best view of a live show I ever had for anything.  It was going to be kick ass regardless, but being in the front row made it all the better.  I got some killer pictures which you may have seen on my facebook page.  It blows my mind when I go back and look at them.

                The pictures were a fantastic aspect of the experience, but another unique part of the pro wrestling experience is the potpourri of people that attend such events.  Seriously, it’s like a grab bag of personalities.  You will have the lifelong fans like me there.   Most of us are level headed and keep quiet.  Then you have the parents with their young kids.  They make up most of the audience.  The third main group of people are the ones who somehow got free tickets and don’t know what the hell they got themselves into.  Then there are the people who actually do think it is real.  They are the 40 year old mean/woman wearing wrestling shirts from 1996 and booing for all the bad guys and shameless pandering to the good guys, even if they are a little toolish.    Many of these guys still live with their mothers.   They also are the ones who may one day jump the security railing to attack a wrestler.   It is crazy, but you’d understand if you saw how rabid they can get.

                The most colorful of the pro wrestling fans are the ones I call “white trash” because there isn’t a better term to describe it.   Wrestling fans are on all ends of the socio-economical spectrum, but a good portion of them aren’t swimming in money.  They money they do have, they spend on Old Milwaukee when they should throw a few bucks toward the dental care for their four teeth.    They bring their bratty kids with them and then proceed to teach them how to be classless.  Want to hear a hateful slur?  These people will call the flamboyant stars the F word.  It is a walking freak show when they get riled up and into the show.  I am not sure if it is because of their general ugliness or because their shirts are one size too small.  A woman behind me fit this category.  She claimed to have driven two and a half hours just so she could make sexual advances towards John Morrison.  Her 80s hair and halter top may have given her a chance at a small independent show, but she wasn’t going to impress anyone on the current WWE roster.  I assume she did, however, manage to impress a truck driver on the way home.  Needless to say, this woman was just a minor portion of a large scale spectacle.

                All in all, WWE RAW was a hell of a time.  I got to see one of my favorite entertainment acts, get on national television, and people watch.  What more could I ask for? (Besides a Nexus shirt.  Damn them for not having any in my size!)

                Speaking of my signs, did anyone see them?   Here is what they read:

BRETT TEXTED ME

CENA NEEDS AN ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT

SHEAMUS > JARMOS

@wall2k4 is AWESOME

                That last one got me some tweets and new followers.  I am not sure if that is creepy or just AWESOME!!!!   

                I’ll let you decide.

Don't Ever Look Back.... well, except this one time :)

Seven years.  That is how long it had been since I had stepped foot in Valders, WI.  It is a typical Wisconsin village with a population of 948 people.  There is nothing special about it unless a shit ton of limestone gets you excited.   That might be the case for geologists and chalk companies, but not for anyone who grew up there.  So, in summation, Valders is a dinky little hole.

                Seriously, I didn’t ever realize just how empty Valders is.  Now that I have three years in Green Bay and seven in Whitewater under my belt, I can see just how bored I would be if I lived there.  This is especially alarming since I have often said that both Green Bay and Whitewater didn’t have much to offer as well.  It literally takes like 40 seconds to drive through town.  However, you do have to go 25 or the one cop in town will pull your ass over because he has nothing better to do.  Then again, if real crimes happened, he wouldn’t know how to deal with them.  Writing speeding tickets is easy.

                The local Piggly Wiggly in Valders turns out to be a lot smaller than I remember it being.  I must have become spoiled with the Super Wal-Marts and Woodman’s that I have had in my life since I went to college.  When I was a kid, the place seemed so damn big to me.  Hell, the entire town seemed big.  It is literally a 5-10 minute walk to anywhere you want to get.  The real laughable point about the grocery store is that it closes at 8 pm every night.  Holy crap!  I could not live in Valders at this point in my life.  I really appreciate the luxury of being able to get things when I want to.  The problem is that the gas stations aren’t even open past 11 pm.  There is just nothing there.   Now I know why most of the people at the reunion were living in other parts of the state.  

                On a side note, I am currently viewing the climactic ending of a SyFy Channel movie called Swamp Devil.  It is utterly exhilarating.  There is this giant man shaped creature made of plants chasing after some women played by actresses who aren’t good enough to be in real movies, but also not willing to run the train in the porno industry.  Everything I just told you makes it clear that this is not exactly “The Exorcist” that I am watching.  I am not exactly sure why I expect it to make any sense or to follow any code of logic, but I just found myself criticizing it as if I was let down.   All I understood of it is that for some reason this Swamp Devil couldn’t cross the county line.  In the 20 minutes I watched, they didn’t explain why this was.  There is a good chance that such a movie never bothered to explain it in the first place.  So, what is with the county line?  Was Swamp Devil released on bond before his day in court?   Is he wearing an ankle bracelet and is on house arrest?   Is there a restraining order?   Maybe a mystical curse doesn’t allow it?  Spoiler alert!  The monster jobs on a truck to attack a woman, but dies when it crosses the county line.  There.  Now you saved two hours.

                To get back on track, let me simplify this weekend’s events into one statement.  It was a relief.  There was a moment of enlightenment when I realized that we all were in the same boat.  Now, some people may have met their goals in life, but nobody from my class was living it large with a private jet with super models hanging from both arms.  Many of us were grinding out 40 hours a week in cubicles.  Others are busting their ass in a classroom.  Some are still furthering their education.  The thing we all seemed to have in common is that we are working hard for what we got.  Nobody suddenly fell into some money or found a career that has them immediately set for life.  The post college landscape was the same for all of us.  It was a relief to know that I was not alone.  However, I may be only one of two or three people to still own a Jon Waack Fan Club shirt.  Maybe I should get those reprinted and sell them on Ebay.