August 04, 2002

Break a Leg, In

Break a Leg, In Ten Easy Lessons!

Yeah, we're out in the boonies. But how far is it from where YOU live to the nearest PRO WRESTLING CAMP!? Boogies is about 3 miles from us, as the crow flies. Driving down a most beautiful road along the Roanoke River, the appearance of Boogies takes one quite by surprise. Today, my son and a friend decided to go pay Boogie a visit, as Sundays are Match Days from 1 to 4:00.

Jimmy Valiant, the Boogey Woogey Man (WWF Hall-of-Famer) takes in all types under his ample arms, to train them in the gentle art of the Ring Rope Clotheshanger, the Flying Head Scissors, and of course, the Powerbomb (Reverse Crucifix, Face First). Turns out, my son says, that ol' Boogie is nice guy, quite the gentleman, and a father-figure to no small number of young men for whom wrestling is a way out of boredom, purposelessness, and (they hope) poverty. It was an extremely poignant visit for Nate, and after five years of college, today after visiting Boogies, he has finally decided what he wants to do with his life. I hope I am kidding here.

Now I might as weel tell you, I was compelled to move from North Carolina because I did not fit in. It was because of a male-linked genetic defect whereby I was born not the least bit interested in either A) kawr racin' or B) Pro Wrastlin'. I am, however, attempting to come up to masculine speed by studying the terminology of the various WWF holds, kicks, gouges and insults so as to be able to carry on a conversation at the barber shop.

And of course, for general self-defense purposes, should I ever be attacked by a former highschool football lineman and part-time truck driver in a turquoise Spandex body suit, with a pink feather boa.

Posted by fred1st at August 4, 2002 07:32 PM
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