High school = Ric Flair
03/23/09 20:19
My child
just came screeching to find me: “Chris Jericho is
being a butthead. He’s beating up Ric Flair, in the
spot where his head got opened a million times, and
he hit him with a camera!” Then he races away to
watch more.
Please, no comments about what kind of a mother I am for letting my child watch Raw. I don’t judge, you don’t judge.
When I was in high school, I had the same boyfriend for four years, more or less. A guy who wanted to marry me so I could live in my home town for the rest of my life. As much as I loved him (and I did, more than just the “omg this is love” situation), I knew I couldn’t live in my hometown when I graduated from high school (he wasn’t intending to go to college). So we broke up, and the essence of that breakup is in THE SKY ALWAYS HEARS ME.
That was not a digression. It was just to say that this high school boyfriend was pretty serious, and since we were serious, we did lots of stuff together, and he LOVED LOVED LOVED wrestling: Ric Flair, Steve Austin, Dusty Rhodes, Andre the Giant, Rowdy Roddy Piper, Stunning Steve Austin, back when there were three titles, maybe, instead of thirty-three. It’s just gotten stupider over the ages, though my child doesn’t believe me. But that’s OK.
Sometimes it’s surprising how high school returns to say hello. Ric Flair wakes up from a long siesta, and dang, there he is, bugging my kid instead of my high school boyfriend. ZING goes the rubber band world, and everything snaps back on itself.
Please, no comments about what kind of a mother I am for letting my child watch Raw. I don’t judge, you don’t judge.
When I was in high school, I had the same boyfriend for four years, more or less. A guy who wanted to marry me so I could live in my home town for the rest of my life. As much as I loved him (and I did, more than just the “omg this is love” situation), I knew I couldn’t live in my hometown when I graduated from high school (he wasn’t intending to go to college). So we broke up, and the essence of that breakup is in THE SKY ALWAYS HEARS ME.
That was not a digression. It was just to say that this high school boyfriend was pretty serious, and since we were serious, we did lots of stuff together, and he LOVED LOVED LOVED wrestling: Ric Flair, Steve Austin, Dusty Rhodes, Andre the Giant, Rowdy Roddy Piper, Stunning Steve Austin, back when there were three titles, maybe, instead of thirty-three. It’s just gotten stupider over the ages, though my child doesn’t believe me. But that’s OK.
Sometimes it’s surprising how high school returns to say hello. Ric Flair wakes up from a long siesta, and dang, there he is, bugging my kid instead of my high school boyfriend. ZING goes the rubber band world, and everything snaps back on itself.