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Posts Tagged ‘Wrestling’

Dear Friends and Family,

This time last week, I was on a cruise. I didn’t pay the exorbitant fee for ship WiFi, and I was thus blissfully unaware of Leon and his band of Hitler youth interns hijacking the Treasury. Among other things. 🙄

Oh those halcyon days!

Anyway.

What kind of cruise?

Chris Jericho’s Rock ‘n’ Wrestling Rager at Sea.

Listen: I grew up in Georgia. Y’all know I’m a redneck.

Wrestling was a part of my childhood. Dusty Rhodes, the American Dream, was like kin. One of my first crushes was Robert Fuller, whose tag-team partner was Ted DiBiase, the Million Dollar Man.

All Elite Wrestling is the best. It’s far superior in storylines to World Wrestling Entertainment. It’s like a soap opera featuring sweaty men. And one of the best characters is Chris Jericho. He understands the assignment.

Jericho is on the right wearing a onesie featuring cats and tacos.

Jericho also fronts one of my favorite bands: Fozzy. Fozzy performed on the cruise, along with a bunch of other bands.

Wrestling AND rock music? It’s the perfect combo for me. I’ve been wanting to go on this cruise for years.

Pre-trip, people would ask where the ship was going. I answered, “I don’t know. I don’t care.” Turns out: Puerto Plata, DR. Fine. I was there for what was happening on the Norwegian Gem.

In addition to Fozzy, the lineup featured the return of Great White. Yes, THAT Great White. They have a new singer. He’s very talented and VERY young. Was DEF not alive during the band’s first go ‘round.

The singer bears a striking resemblance to 20-hour Tina’s daughter Elsa.

Others: Kuarantine (another Jericho-fronted band, this one focused on KISS covers of the no-makeup years), Guardians of the Jukebox (all covers), Excitable (a Def Leppard tribute band), Nocturnal Affair (a screamy metal band), and — another favorite of mine — The Hot Damn!

Love them. Listen to “I Didn’t Like You Anyway” or “Automatic.”

And then there was the wrestling.

Ricochet and Komander put on an acrobatic show. This isn’t your dad’s wrestling extravaganza.

There was at least one show per day along with photo opps, autograph sessions, podcasts and random other events — events like a belly-flop contest.

Here’s Will Ospreay with his stellar attempt.

As you are all on a boat together, you could find yourself riding the elevator with Toni Storm.

Or passing Turbo Floyd of the Outrunners in a hallway.

He’s right out of the ‘80s all the time!

Or standing in line at the bar with Jesus.

What was hilarious later is that Fozzy has a song called, “Drinking with Jesus.” The crowd was SO EXCITED and lifted this man up to the front. Sadly, Jericho didn’t even notice. Missed opportunity, I say.

As for drinking, I started the cruise still doing Dry January. Friends, that is a rough choice. ROUGH. Especially when I hear fellow passengers say things like this about their own drinks:

“I’m drunk, and I can tell that’s strong. Got DAMN, that’s strong!”*

But I made it.

And I didn’t get crazy on the trip, either. Unlike others. Look at Will Ospreay’s face after a night of drunken karaoke:

Let me tell you: Cruises are GREAT for people watching.

On the last day at sea, my traveling friend and I sat and watched people for hours. I asked him if he was going to get a chair massage like the dude next to us.

He said, “Absolutely not.”

I said, “Why not? You liked the last massage you got.”

He said, “That was in a nice relaxing cave. This is on a ship surrounded by weird people with Great White doing a sound check in the background.”

Fair enough.

Five days, four nights of events tailored to my interests? Yes, please.

I mean, JUST LOOK!

I’ll tell you this: It was the first time on this cruise, but it won’t be the last.

Who is coming with me next time?

Let’s go!
Beth

*Yes, “got damn” with a “t.”

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Dear Friends and Family,

Remember that promise I made to get out more? Well, sometimes that leads to questionable decisions. Like last night’s.

My neighbor Amy and I went to MicroMania in Salem.

I’m going to pause here to let you follow that link.

Yeah.

It seemed like a great idea, then I had regrets. So many regrets before the show started.

The merch made me cringe.

One of the biggest regrets was not reading the show poster correctly.

It CLEARLY says doors open at 7. But Amy and I got it in our heads that the show STARTED at 7. So we got there there 2.5 hours early.

As a result, we got second-row seats. But we also had to kill time. As I’m doing Dry January, drinking wasn’t it.

So we played homemade Bingo.

And listened to BAD jokes by the emcee.

What’s the difference between a dwarf and a midget?
Very little.

Terrible.

I seriously contemplated leaving. I was afraid I was participating in one of those awful shows from the late 19th century.

But then the show started. The performers were spectacular. In on and pushing the joke.

I mean, they came out to a medley of songs such as “It’s a Small World” and “Follow the Yellow Brick Road.”

And the crowd was loving it. Not in a mean, weird way.

I also did the math and realized how much the performers were potentially banking. It’s not a small amount. (Sorry. I got caught up.)

The ring was set up where the line dancing happens.

The man in front of us was LOSING HIS MIND with joy. He recorded every moment of every match.

This wrestler’s stage name is 25 Cent.

There also was a significant amount of audience interaction.

It had so many moments you would expect wrestling matches to have.

I know you know what will happen next.

A guy behind me shouted “Bring out the tables!”

So, you know, standard wrestling.

It turned out to be a fun night. Not sure I would go again, though. I need to find a new hobby to keep me occupied.

Don’t judge me.

With a little love from Oregon,
Beth

*Yes, they played that song too.

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Dear Savannah Friends,

Many of you expressed concern about my social well-being when I saw you over the holidays.

Fair.

I do need to get out more. Try to meet more non-work people.

So this week, I did two things in two different places with two different sets of people:

Line dancing in Salem and a drag show in Portland.

How is that for running the gamut?

Those of you who have known me a while know that I haunted Stetsons in Savannah for line-dancing nights back in the day.

Salem, Oregon, is apparently a hotspot for line dancing. (Who knew?)

The colleague who told me about this event did provide some additional information.

It was great! I had fun and got some exercise. People were very welcoming.

That was Thursday night. I went to Darcelle XV in Portland on Friday night.

It was not like any other drag show I’ve seen. I’m used to acrobatic, can-pass-as performers working the crowd. This show was more like a cabaret stocked with Joan Crawford/Bette Davis clones in evening gowns. To tip, you threw your money in a bowl at center stage.

It was a good evening with friends, but I probably wouldn’t go back to the regular show. There’s an “open mic”-style drag show on Tuesdays that looks more interesting.

Still, I could have had a terrible time at either or both of these places and been happy to be out.

My next big event out should be a doozy:

Stay tuned.

Love,
Beth

*Love me some Miley.

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Dear Gideon,

Thanks for hanging out with me at the AEW event Wednesday night. I know it won’t be long before the last thing you want to do is hang out with your mom.

To be honest, though, not many of the moms we know would want to watch professional wrestling. Er, RASSLIN’ (as it is known in the South).

(You know, if I knocked out some of my teeth, this and the taxidermy would give me the redneck trifecta. You would never know I had a doctoral degree. Yes, I know I’m stereotyping.)

But you and I have watched AEW since it started last year. We HAD to see it live.

Luckily, we like the same characters.

Jungle Boy (i.e., Luke Perry’s kid), Luchasaurus and Marko Stunt (Jurassic Express)? Yes.

Kenny Omega, whose hair looks like sea coral? No.

The Young Bucks, who look like they were coughed up by a Myrtle Beach T-shirt shop? Yes.

MJF, someone’s bratty prep-school little brother? No.

Orange Cassidy, who doesn’t wrestle but roams around looking like a cool knockoff of Macklemore? Sure.

Cody Rhodes, who started AEW, still wrestles and tries to be cool? Sorry, but no. (I know, I know. He’s homegrown. Still.)

Chris Jericho, with attitude to spare? Yes, please.

Sammy Guevara, who always has his tongue out? Hell no.

Our seats were decent, and we got to sit in a group of folks who were ALL IN for Moxley and Hangman Page, whose beer-grabbing is killing us (in a good way).

When they chanted, “This is AWESOME,” we did too.

When they chanted “Asshole” as Wardlow appeared for the cage match against Cody Rhodes (oh the cage match), we didn’t. You’re 13.

When one dude behind us shouted to Rhodes getting his butt whooped in the cage match,” Do less of that!,” we laughed.

We both marveled at Rhodes’ epic finish.

It was a great night watching men in panties fight each other.

I’m so glad we spent it together.

I’ll meet you on the couch for AEW Wednesday night, unless you have baseball practice.

Love,
Mama

At the Marta station, we spotted the lucky fan who scored the shirt Cody Rhodes ripped off his body.

 

 

 

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Dear Students,

I love many parts of my job, but I like teaching you the most. When the semester is over, I’m actually sad (not relieved as many academic types are).

Public Speaking may be my favorite course to teach for three reasons:

  1. I get to know you extremely well through the topics you choose.
  2. You show a large amount of growth in a short amount of time. Each of you improves.
  3. I end up learning plenty.

In fact, this semester, I learned about child labor in smartphone construction, conspiracy theories about Kurt Cobain’s death, the House of Chanel, Chris Jericho’s career, and why you should exercise 5-6 times a week for 30 minutes (as opposed to 3 times a week for an hour, which is my routine at the moment).

I’ve written about student evaluations before, but here’s a recap: It is a little scary for me. There’s always someone who hates me and/or the class. But then I get feedback like this, and it takes out the sting:

(And her heart grew three sizes that day.)

Remember that I’m here for you long after the class ends. Yes, you have to climb a few flights of stairs to see me, but I’m also just a quick email away.

Best wishes,
Dr. Beth

 

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Dear Chris Jericho,

I think …

I think I may be …

I think I may be a Jerichoholic.

It started out small (as addictions usually do).

I knew who you were.

Then I started listening to Fozzy.

Then I went to a Fozzy concert.

Then I started watching AEW: Dynamite every Wednesday night.

And just last night I caught myself wishing I had found out about the Chris Jericho Rock ‘N’ Rager at Sea: Part Deux before it sold out.

So now I think I have a problem.

I’m more surprised than you. I’m sure you think everyone should be a Jerichoholic.

But you’re not my usual type.

1. You’re blond.

2. You’re hairless.

3. You’re a little … stocky.

I know I should be booing you along with the AEW audience.

But I can’t.

I can’t stop smiling and laughing when you are on screen.

Just ask Gideon. He’s right there with me on the couch every Wednesday.

They say the first step in recovery is admitting you have a problem.

So.

My name is Beth, and I’m a Jerichoholic.

Hit me up if cruise slots open.

I’d be happy to experience the Judas Effect for myself.

Love,
Beth

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WrestleMania was glorious. GLORIOUS!

I laughed. I cried. It was better than “Cats.”*

It began with a bang: Edge, the R-rated Superstar, vs. Alberto Del Rio.

 

VS.

 

 

 

 

 

 





My first hearty laugh of the evening came when the announcer claimed that Edge, in his vise grip on Del Rio, was trying to “rip the pectoral from the bone.” Sure. Sure he was.

I enjoyed many more noteworthy moves:

There were tire irons, sledgehammers, folding chairs, ATVs, pyrotechnics, muscular men in small panties — everything a girl could want.

And Pee-wee Herman. What the heck was he doing there? Well, a little sketch with The Rock.

And Snooki. She wrestled with Trish Stratus and John Morrison against LayCool. And busted out some acrobatics. Who knew?

My favorite part was listening to the commentary from the announcers. Here’s a sample:

  • “I’m sure that knee doesn’t need any more punishment delivered to it.”
  • “Whatever is going through his mind is definitely diabolical.”
  • “That could have damaged his nervous system.”
  • “Is there an escape from hell’s gate?”
  • “We all smell what The Rock is cooking.”

Dominic and Gideon were fascinated. Dominic even felt the need to document the occasion.

Yes, more scarring.

I was scarred by the sight of John Cena’s jorts.

Despite that, plans are underway to watch WrestleMania XXVIII … in Miami!

*If anyone can find a video of the original Broadway show commercial that used this line, I will be eternally grateful.

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“What is this, Mama?”
“This, Honey, is WrestleMania.”

Oh yes, it is.

In a shocking metamorphosis that began with moving out to “The Country” in 2006, continued with burning trash in the backyard and attending the Redneck Games and Rattlesnake Roundup, I have become what I feared the most: a redneck.

Or at least I have begun to assimilate into the culture.

I’ve been excited all week because tonight is Wrestlemania XXVII.

Ed almost had me talked into going to Atlanta to witness it live. But there is that little matter of an 8 a.m. class I have to teach. So, thanks to Xfinity, I can enjoy The Rock in the comfort of my own home. Oh yes, I would like to smell what The Rock is cookin’.

Also a draw: The Miz, whom I remember from “The Real World: Back to New York.” He’s also the WWE World Champion. And he’s AWESOME!

Ed and Trish have arrived for the event. Ed is in the kitchen, making nachos. Trish is taking bets on who wins each match. The kids are engrossed. Eddie is amused, as he usually is, by what I get us into. I’m writing this confessional. All is right in the world.

Look for the recap tomorrow.

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