If you get a chance, read Mike Butterworth's most recent post on his blog, The Agon. I'm not going to go on much more here because I think you can read much of what I might want to say from Mike's post.
I do, though, wish to add that, as an Michigan State University alumnus, I am not, despite what MSU Athletic Director Mark Hollis says, appreciative of the opportunity for the MSU men's basketball team to play in this game, in particular because I feel very strongly that it is inappropriate to stage a baseball game designed, in the words of Rear Admiral Dennis Moynihan, to be "a celebration of service to all veterans" on the U.S.S. Carl Vinson, which was the ship that transported the body of Osama bin Laden after he was killed during a U.S. military operation this past spring. Regardless of what any of us think or feel about bin Laden; the events of September 11, 2001; and/or U.S. military action over the past decade, the U.S.S. Carl Vinson is now inescapably associated with these things, and public events that use it for any kind of celebration of the U.S. military or U.S. foreign policy cannot be divorced from the cultural and political significance that the ship gained by becoming known as the ship that carried bin Laden's body. As such, its usage for this event strikes me as reflective of an arrogant insensitivity to the positions and practices of our fellow nations and cultures within the contemporary global environment at a time when reflective sensitivity to humane treatment of the various groups and cultures that make up the world would seem much more prudent.
Okay ... so I did end up adding a little bit to what Mike said, but I'll stop there and end by asking you to please join me in voicing concern about this event taking place on the U.S.S. Carl Vinson and requesting that the event be moved to an aircraft carrier that does not hold the kind of symbolic significance that the U.S.S. Carl Vinson does. I have called the MSU Athletics Department. I have emailed the Morale Entertainment Foundation, which helped organize this event. I will also be sending an email to MSU Athletic Director Mark Hollis. In each of these correspondences I have and will voice my concern about the ship being used and my request that the ship be changed. I ask you to do the same.
Contact information for Morale Entertainment, including phone number and email address, can be found here.
Contact information for the MSU Athletics Department, including phone numbers, a postal address, and an email link for AD Mark Hollis, can be found here.
Contact information for the UNC Chapel Hill Athletics Department, including phone numbers, a postal address, and an email address for UNC AD Dick Baddour, can be found here.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Charlie and Me
Today was going along rather uneventfully. I had just walked my dog and was getting ready to run a couple of errands when my wife came home. Upon entering the house, she said that there was an unknown black and white "foofoo" dog in our yard. I immediately went to the front window, only to see that the dog had crossed the road. My wife and I looked at the dog for a moment, wondering where the dog came from, and then decided we'd better go get it before it tried to cross again so that it wouldn't get hit, particularly because we live on a busy street. My wife quickly gathered a leash at our front door, while we both slipped on shoes, and we headed out ...
We were too late. As we opened our door, our neighbor was carrying the dog up to the yard from the street. The dog had been hit by a car.
We rushed forward to see how the dog was. He was still breathing, but he wasn't moving, and there was a little bit, though not a lot, of blood. We quickly learned, while my neighbor went to get his truck to take the dog to the vet, that the dog belonged to my neighbor's mother-in-law, and my neighbor was watching the dog for the day.
I sat with the dog in the bed of the pickup truck on the ride to the vet clinic, trying to comfort him and to make sure he stayed alert.
When we got to the vet clinic, he was still breathing, and upon checking him, the doctor said he was responsive, but the doctor was worried about internal bleeding. The doctor took him back to examine him more fully, while my neighbor and I waited.
I learned moments later that the dog's name is Charlie and that he was only about a year old. Moments after that, I learned he had died. The accident had ruptured his spleen, and he had bled out internally.
I drove my neighbor home a couple of minutes later, and I stayed with him until his wife and daughter came home. He was, understandably, very distraught, and his love for animals came through quite visibly. Indeed, the fact that he let Charlie run around came from a certain kind of love. He said he didn't feel right locking a dog up in a fenced yard, like it was abusive for the dog not to be able to be free. How, he asked, would people like it if they couldn't be free?
As I'm sure anyone who has seen how militant I am about safety and protection around my dogs can attest, I have a different view. I also, though, decided that this wasn't the time or place to go into that. My neighbor clearly felt the gravity of the situation, and some comment by me didn't seem like it would be appropriate or helpful.
I maintained composure as I gave support to my neighbor, but as soon as I left and walked back to my house, I could tell the sense of loss was hitting me significantly. All day, I have been haunted by the image of Charlie across the street, perfectly fine, just moments from the event that would so abruptly take his short life. I'm reminded, as I was three years ago when my wife and I came across a cat named Mocha who had been hit by a car, just how fragile life is.
I'm also reminded of how good it is to love animals. I only knew Charlie for about five minutes, and I hope I was at least somewhat of a comfort to him in his pain and shock during the journey to the vet. I deeply wish that the result had been better--that he had survived, not for my sake, not for my neighbor's sake, not for my neighbor's mother-in-law's sake, but for Charlie's sake.
Pets are wonderful companions. Take a moment to cherish your pet. Then, don't stop cherishing her or him. As I learned all too unexpectedly with the death of my dog Nellie Fox last October, and as I was reminded today by my brief time with Charlie, our dogs, cats, birds, hamsters, and other pets deserve everything we can do with and for them.
We were too late. As we opened our door, our neighbor was carrying the dog up to the yard from the street. The dog had been hit by a car.
We rushed forward to see how the dog was. He was still breathing, but he wasn't moving, and there was a little bit, though not a lot, of blood. We quickly learned, while my neighbor went to get his truck to take the dog to the vet, that the dog belonged to my neighbor's mother-in-law, and my neighbor was watching the dog for the day.
I sat with the dog in the bed of the pickup truck on the ride to the vet clinic, trying to comfort him and to make sure he stayed alert.
When we got to the vet clinic, he was still breathing, and upon checking him, the doctor said he was responsive, but the doctor was worried about internal bleeding. The doctor took him back to examine him more fully, while my neighbor and I waited.
I learned moments later that the dog's name is Charlie and that he was only about a year old. Moments after that, I learned he had died. The accident had ruptured his spleen, and he had bled out internally.
I drove my neighbor home a couple of minutes later, and I stayed with him until his wife and daughter came home. He was, understandably, very distraught, and his love for animals came through quite visibly. Indeed, the fact that he let Charlie run around came from a certain kind of love. He said he didn't feel right locking a dog up in a fenced yard, like it was abusive for the dog not to be able to be free. How, he asked, would people like it if they couldn't be free?
As I'm sure anyone who has seen how militant I am about safety and protection around my dogs can attest, I have a different view. I also, though, decided that this wasn't the time or place to go into that. My neighbor clearly felt the gravity of the situation, and some comment by me didn't seem like it would be appropriate or helpful.
I maintained composure as I gave support to my neighbor, but as soon as I left and walked back to my house, I could tell the sense of loss was hitting me significantly. All day, I have been haunted by the image of Charlie across the street, perfectly fine, just moments from the event that would so abruptly take his short life. I'm reminded, as I was three years ago when my wife and I came across a cat named Mocha who had been hit by a car, just how fragile life is.
I'm also reminded of how good it is to love animals. I only knew Charlie for about five minutes, and I hope I was at least somewhat of a comfort to him in his pain and shock during the journey to the vet. I deeply wish that the result had been better--that he had survived, not for my sake, not for my neighbor's sake, not for my neighbor's mother-in-law's sake, but for Charlie's sake.
Pets are wonderful companions. Take a moment to cherish your pet. Then, don't stop cherishing her or him. As I learned all too unexpectedly with the death of my dog Nellie Fox last October, and as I was reminded today by my brief time with Charlie, our dogs, cats, birds, hamsters, and other pets deserve everything we can do with and for them.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Even Better than the Real Thing
After years of claiming U2 as my favorite band, I finally saw them in concert in September 2009 at Soldier Field in Chicago (and promptly wrote about the experience both here and on Tunesmate). I enjoyed the experience enough to see them a second time, this time this past Sunday (June 26) at Spartan Stadium on the campus of one of my alma maters—Michigan State University in East Lansing, Michigan. It was well worth a second trip to see them during their 360 Tour, and I ended up liking this concert even better than the Chicago one. And that seems like an appropriate place to start this review, because “even better” is where the band started the show.
As the original recording of David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” played for the crowd to open the show, I’m sure I wasn’t alone in recognizing chords from U2’s “Even Better than the Real Thing” slowly making their way forward. Sure enough, within moments the band cracked into the song to lead off the concert with a set of four songs from Achtung Baby that also included “The Fly,” “Mysterious Ways,” and “Until the End of the World.” You can read more of my thoughts about how the show played out—and it was an outstanding show—in my other review, which I’ve posted today on Tunesmate. Here, though, in keeping with the spirit of this blog, I want to pick up the theme of “Even Better than the Real Thing” to analyze the show more in terms of the cultural and political contexts in which it works.
After going to the show in Chicago, I realized while heading to East Lansing how easy it would be to watch the band members as they are projected on the video screen rather than to watch them on stage. So, I initially tried to watch them on the actual stage, particularly since I was in good position to be able to see them all clearly on stage—to their right, maybe 80 yards from the front of the stage, nine rows from the field. Still, over and over again, the urge got the better of me throughout most of the concert, and I watched the video screen. Part of that had to do with the other images that the show projected onto the screen during songs, such as images of Aung San Suu Kyi during “Walk On” and of children’s artwork during “Miss Sarajevo.” Still, much of the time the video screen only showed the band … except that it didn’t only show the band. It showed the band in a way that looked more real than real—like high definition concert footage that brings out the vividness of colors and the movement within images to levels of intensity that my eye would not catch if I just looked at what was happening on stage. Thus, the experience of the show, mediated so largely through the video, was “even better than the real thing,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if the band and its promoters did that intentionally. After all, U2 did write the song “Even Better than the Real Thing,” and they have touched on that theme in other work as well. The visual experiences of the concert, then, are “even better than the real thing.” So, too, might be the political experiences.
As I mentioned on this blog after seeing U2 for the first time, U2 concerts clearly contain a number of elements designed to highlight political issues, including funding for AIDS research and relief, the work of Amnesty International, and, as Bono put it a couple of times in East Lansing, the general goals of “peace” and “love.” Yet, I could wonder the degree to which they even translate at the stadium. For instance, I consider “Walk On” to be a particularly poignant moment during the concert, as the band and the video screen bring attention to the story of Suu Kyi and, since her recent release from house arrest, the fact that more than 2000 people remain imprisoned in Burma under the same kinds of human rights violations as Suu Kyi was. Yet, much of the crowd around me took that song as a moment to sit for a break. Meanwhile, the tribute to E Street Band saxophonist Clarence Clemons that ended the show garnered significantly more crowd participation when Bono asked the audience to hold up cell phones in the dark in memory of him. I have no problem with the touching tribute to Clemons, but I have to wonder what’s happening when it receives a much great response than the tribute to Suu Kyi, other hostages, and the work of Amnesty International.
However, even if one isn’t so actively engaged in listening to the political messages embedded in the performance, it’s hard not to miss them, including a message from Desmond Tutu that we’re all “one” in the fight for freedom and human rights; a statement by Bono of how much he loves the “idea” of the United States of America; a dedication of the performance of “Beautiful Day” to Gabrielle Giffords, opened by a video recording of her husband, astronaut Mark Kelly, reciting some of the song’s lines; and Bono’s mention of prominent work on issues related to Africa that has been done at Michigan State University. So, it’s easy, to borrow a word featured prominently in the U2 song “Vertigo” (which was also part of the concert set), to feel socially and politically engaged during a U2 concert like the one in East Lansing.
Still, I wonder to what degree those experiences translate beyond simply cheering for them or listening to them at the concert. As I said in 2009, in the end I think that U2 bringing attention to these issues is a useful thing. I, for one, do leave the concert inspired to do more politically and socially, and I think to some degree I have followed through in that regard, even if indirectly. And, though the likes of Amnesty International probably deserve more credit for Suu Kyi’s release, I think it can be reasonably argued that almost a decade’s worth of U2 drawing attention to her situation probably helped. Yet, particularly given that the show still occurs within the context of the spectacle of the rock concert genre, and that it includes many elements that draw on the conventions of that genre, I can’t help but feel that the experience ends up providing for many an experience that they find “even better than the real thing.” One can pretty easily feel politically and socially engaged for a couple of hours, and leave thinking that experience made one a part of the larger struggle for issues like human rights, but in the end not really do anything other than feel that. To continue with the “Vertigo” reference, then, U2 concerts “give me something I can feel,” but I hope that for many of us it can translate into more than just that.
As the original recording of David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” played for the crowd to open the show, I’m sure I wasn’t alone in recognizing chords from U2’s “Even Better than the Real Thing” slowly making their way forward. Sure enough, within moments the band cracked into the song to lead off the concert with a set of four songs from Achtung Baby that also included “The Fly,” “Mysterious Ways,” and “Until the End of the World.” You can read more of my thoughts about how the show played out—and it was an outstanding show—in my other review, which I’ve posted today on Tunesmate. Here, though, in keeping with the spirit of this blog, I want to pick up the theme of “Even Better than the Real Thing” to analyze the show more in terms of the cultural and political contexts in which it works.
After going to the show in Chicago, I realized while heading to East Lansing how easy it would be to watch the band members as they are projected on the video screen rather than to watch them on stage. So, I initially tried to watch them on the actual stage, particularly since I was in good position to be able to see them all clearly on stage—to their right, maybe 80 yards from the front of the stage, nine rows from the field. Still, over and over again, the urge got the better of me throughout most of the concert, and I watched the video screen. Part of that had to do with the other images that the show projected onto the screen during songs, such as images of Aung San Suu Kyi during “Walk On” and of children’s artwork during “Miss Sarajevo.” Still, much of the time the video screen only showed the band … except that it didn’t only show the band. It showed the band in a way that looked more real than real—like high definition concert footage that brings out the vividness of colors and the movement within images to levels of intensity that my eye would not catch if I just looked at what was happening on stage. Thus, the experience of the show, mediated so largely through the video, was “even better than the real thing,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if the band and its promoters did that intentionally. After all, U2 did write the song “Even Better than the Real Thing,” and they have touched on that theme in other work as well. The visual experiences of the concert, then, are “even better than the real thing.” So, too, might be the political experiences.
As I mentioned on this blog after seeing U2 for the first time, U2 concerts clearly contain a number of elements designed to highlight political issues, including funding for AIDS research and relief, the work of Amnesty International, and, as Bono put it a couple of times in East Lansing, the general goals of “peace” and “love.” Yet, I could wonder the degree to which they even translate at the stadium. For instance, I consider “Walk On” to be a particularly poignant moment during the concert, as the band and the video screen bring attention to the story of Suu Kyi and, since her recent release from house arrest, the fact that more than 2000 people remain imprisoned in Burma under the same kinds of human rights violations as Suu Kyi was. Yet, much of the crowd around me took that song as a moment to sit for a break. Meanwhile, the tribute to E Street Band saxophonist Clarence Clemons that ended the show garnered significantly more crowd participation when Bono asked the audience to hold up cell phones in the dark in memory of him. I have no problem with the touching tribute to Clemons, but I have to wonder what’s happening when it receives a much great response than the tribute to Suu Kyi, other hostages, and the work of Amnesty International.
However, even if one isn’t so actively engaged in listening to the political messages embedded in the performance, it’s hard not to miss them, including a message from Desmond Tutu that we’re all “one” in the fight for freedom and human rights; a statement by Bono of how much he loves the “idea” of the United States of America; a dedication of the performance of “Beautiful Day” to Gabrielle Giffords, opened by a video recording of her husband, astronaut Mark Kelly, reciting some of the song’s lines; and Bono’s mention of prominent work on issues related to Africa that has been done at Michigan State University. So, it’s easy, to borrow a word featured prominently in the U2 song “Vertigo” (which was also part of the concert set), to feel socially and politically engaged during a U2 concert like the one in East Lansing.
Still, I wonder to what degree those experiences translate beyond simply cheering for them or listening to them at the concert. As I said in 2009, in the end I think that U2 bringing attention to these issues is a useful thing. I, for one, do leave the concert inspired to do more politically and socially, and I think to some degree I have followed through in that regard, even if indirectly. And, though the likes of Amnesty International probably deserve more credit for Suu Kyi’s release, I think it can be reasonably argued that almost a decade’s worth of U2 drawing attention to her situation probably helped. Yet, particularly given that the show still occurs within the context of the spectacle of the rock concert genre, and that it includes many elements that draw on the conventions of that genre, I can’t help but feel that the experience ends up providing for many an experience that they find “even better than the real thing.” One can pretty easily feel politically and socially engaged for a couple of hours, and leave thinking that experience made one a part of the larger struggle for issues like human rights, but in the end not really do anything other than feel that. To continue with the “Vertigo” reference, then, U2 concerts “give me something I can feel,” but I hope that for many of us it can translate into more than just that.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
A Three Season Ride
Two-and-a-half years ago, shortly after my wife and I started subscribing to Showtime, the network began to advertise a new show that was debuting in January 2009 called United States of Tara. Before the show even began, we looked forward to it. I can still distinctly remember during 2008-2009 winter break greatly anticipating the show's first episode before I even knew if I would like it, just based on my reaction to its previews.
That's typically a recipe for disappointment, since it's difficult for something to live up to that kind of expectation. However, the show did not let me down, and my wife and I have watched every episode over its three seasons.
The show isn't perfect. Its depiction of college experiences in the third season was seriously lacking. At times, some of the characters have felt a bit exaggerated. I'm sure people more qualified than I am could point out some critiques of the show's depiction of mental illness.
That said, I have enjoyed the show for its three seasons. I have laughed with much of the humor. I have often felt for the characters (well, a number of them, anyway ...). And, most of all (though, again, I'm sure there are some critiques of how it has represented mental illness), I thought that the show made at least a reasonably commendable attempt to address how people might work with mental illness rather than simply trying to bottle it up or stigmatize it.
Given all of that, I was disappointed when, a month ago, I found out that Showtime will not be renewing the show. I know that no show can last forever (though apparently The Simpsons is giving it a try), but three seasons just didn't seem like enough for the show. I felt there was more they could address with the characters and their experiences, and a couple more seasons would have allowed for that.
This past week the last episode aired, and perhaps the creators of the show realized that their future was in doubt when writing and filming the third season, since the final episode worked both as a season finale from which they could build a fourth season and as a series finale in the event of the series' cancellation. I felt a little sad when the episode ended. I won't be able to anticipate a new season next year the way I have looked forward to each of the first three seasons, and I suppose three seasons isn't enough when a show has met the high expectations I had before it even began. Still, to take a phrase from the show's theme song, I "love[d] the ride," and I'd recommend checking it out if you haven't already.
That's typically a recipe for disappointment, since it's difficult for something to live up to that kind of expectation. However, the show did not let me down, and my wife and I have watched every episode over its three seasons.
The show isn't perfect. Its depiction of college experiences in the third season was seriously lacking. At times, some of the characters have felt a bit exaggerated. I'm sure people more qualified than I am could point out some critiques of the show's depiction of mental illness.
That said, I have enjoyed the show for its three seasons. I have laughed with much of the humor. I have often felt for the characters (well, a number of them, anyway ...). And, most of all (though, again, I'm sure there are some critiques of how it has represented mental illness), I thought that the show made at least a reasonably commendable attempt to address how people might work with mental illness rather than simply trying to bottle it up or stigmatize it.
Given all of that, I was disappointed when, a month ago, I found out that Showtime will not be renewing the show. I know that no show can last forever (though apparently The Simpsons is giving it a try), but three seasons just didn't seem like enough for the show. I felt there was more they could address with the characters and their experiences, and a couple more seasons would have allowed for that.
This past week the last episode aired, and perhaps the creators of the show realized that their future was in doubt when writing and filming the third season, since the final episode worked both as a season finale from which they could build a fourth season and as a series finale in the event of the series' cancellation. I felt a little sad when the episode ended. I won't be able to anticipate a new season next year the way I have looked forward to each of the first three seasons, and I suppose three seasons isn't enough when a show has met the high expectations I had before it even began. Still, to take a phrase from the show's theme song, I "love[d] the ride," and I'd recommend checking it out if you haven't already.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the White Pearl
First, check out this picture of Penelope Cruz's character (Angelica Melon) from Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. Then, check out this picture of Johnny Depp's character (Captain Jack Sparrow). Now, if you didn't look at this part of each picture the first time, look again, and focus your attention on each person's teeth.
I saw the film yesterday, and while I found the film generally entertaining, I couldn't help but notice a difference in the teeth between the two lead characters. For Depp, it's kind of hard not to notice this, as the film introduces us to his character initially by his teeth. When we see the stained teeth and gold fillings, we're supposed to know it's Captain Jack Sparrow. And, while, in reality, the kind of lifestyle in the 1700s led by a character like Sparrow would have likely produced teeth even worse than these, at least some attempt is being made here to represent some lack of oral care. For Cruz, whose character I would assume has also led a lifestyle that would not be particularly conducive to effective dental hygiene, even that attempt is gone. Rather, her teeth look quite solid, quite intact, and quite white.
Immediately upon noticing this, I reacted through the lens of gender performance. There are certainly many types of masculine identities that call for a full set of solid, white teeth. (Just look, for instance, at Indy 500 winner Dan Wheldon's reconstructed mouth.) However, I would surmise that there is more room for embodying forms of attractive masculinity with broken, stained, or crooked teeth than there is for embodying forms of attractive femininity. The differences between Depp's teeth and Cruz's teeth in this film would appear to support that assertion. Both have been characterized routinely as attractive. (Indeed, Depp was chosen in 2009 as People's Sexiest Man Alive.) Both occupy the lead roles in the film (with Depp first and Cruz second). Yet, the dental differences between their characters are striking.
Among other things, the study of gender asks people to look at the many various everyday and specific practices that reinforce differences between men and women and that, in the process, reinforce male privilege. In this case, the film reflects more rigid standards for women's teeth than men. When women are held to more rigid standards in regard to their teeth than men, it means more time and money for women spent in the care and presentation of their teeth, along with more judgment being levelled against women for the appearance of their teeth. At the everyday level, while men are not free of this concern, they don't have to worry as much about the brightness, straightness, and fullness of their teeth as women do in order to gain acceptance and opportunity. It is, then, one more on the long list of gender differences that perpetuate male privilege--one that, among others, is reinforced in Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides.
I saw the film yesterday, and while I found the film generally entertaining, I couldn't help but notice a difference in the teeth between the two lead characters. For Depp, it's kind of hard not to notice this, as the film introduces us to his character initially by his teeth. When we see the stained teeth and gold fillings, we're supposed to know it's Captain Jack Sparrow. And, while, in reality, the kind of lifestyle in the 1700s led by a character like Sparrow would have likely produced teeth even worse than these, at least some attempt is being made here to represent some lack of oral care. For Cruz, whose character I would assume has also led a lifestyle that would not be particularly conducive to effective dental hygiene, even that attempt is gone. Rather, her teeth look quite solid, quite intact, and quite white.
Immediately upon noticing this, I reacted through the lens of gender performance. There are certainly many types of masculine identities that call for a full set of solid, white teeth. (Just look, for instance, at Indy 500 winner Dan Wheldon's reconstructed mouth.) However, I would surmise that there is more room for embodying forms of attractive masculinity with broken, stained, or crooked teeth than there is for embodying forms of attractive femininity. The differences between Depp's teeth and Cruz's teeth in this film would appear to support that assertion. Both have been characterized routinely as attractive. (Indeed, Depp was chosen in 2009 as People's Sexiest Man Alive.) Both occupy the lead roles in the film (with Depp first and Cruz second). Yet, the dental differences between their characters are striking.
Among other things, the study of gender asks people to look at the many various everyday and specific practices that reinforce differences between men and women and that, in the process, reinforce male privilege. In this case, the film reflects more rigid standards for women's teeth than men. When women are held to more rigid standards in regard to their teeth than men, it means more time and money for women spent in the care and presentation of their teeth, along with more judgment being levelled against women for the appearance of their teeth. At the everyday level, while men are not free of this concern, they don't have to worry as much about the brightness, straightness, and fullness of their teeth as women do in order to gain acceptance and opportunity. It is, then, one more on the long list of gender differences that perpetuate male privilege--one that, among others, is reinforced in Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
R.I.P. R.T.M.M.S.
Let's play a game. In this game, I'm going to give you a set of initials and you need to identify the wrestler whose name matches these initials.
Here's an easy one: ATG. And another easy one: HH (Note: There's actually two answers: one very easy, the other not so much). And now: BTHH Or: JSS. How about PMWO, or RRR, or CBO? ... I could go on ...
And in the mid- to late 1980s, my brothers and I would go on. We all watched professional wrestling, and we made up this game as a way of passing time on long car trips, weekend and summer afternoons, and any other time we might be bored. I even made a master list at one point--probably around 1987 or 1988--that has long since been long lost. The funny thing is, I could easily start making a new one, and occasionally one of my brothers and I talk about doing exactly that, after we've played a few minutes of the old wrestling initials game. We could even add newer wrestlers to the list and have more available choices for the game.
Of course, if we add newer wrestlers, I'm not going to know very many names since I don't watch anymore, and I haven't paid much attention in about two decades. But, at one time, I would have known most of the names because I was a WWF fan.
I don't remember when I became a WWF fan. It had to have been around 1984 or 1985 or so ... maybe as early as 1983. I joined a number of close friends as wrestling fans who, like many of the boys at school, talked about the latest developments we witnessed on USA coverage of WWF (now WWE) wrestling on Sunday mornings (before Kung Fu Theatre) and on Monday nights, or alternately on TBS coverage of WCW wrestling when that league rivalled the WWF. I watched the Saturday morning Hulk Hogan cartoon in the mid-1980s. I still pull out my Jesse "The Body" Ventura toy figure sometimes when we talk about his successful 1998 Minnesota gubernatorial campaign in my political communication class. I went with a friend and his dad to a pay-per-view screen in Lima, Ohio, to see Wrestlemania II. A year later, another friend hosted a party for a bunch of us at which we watched Wrestlemania III via pay per view at his house. Again, I could go on, just as I could with the wrestler initials game. (And, by the way, here are your answers to the initials above: ATG = Andre The Giant, HH = Hulk Hogan and Hercules Hernandez, BTHH = Bret "The Hitman" Hart, JSS = Jimmy "Supefly" Snuka, PMWO = Paul "Mr. Wonderful" Orndorff, RRR = "Ravishing" Rick Rude; and CBO = Cowboy Bob Orton).
And, so, I join numerous folks around the country and the world who were saddened to learn the news the other day that Randy "The Macho Man" Savage (that's RTMMS in the wrestler initials game) died in an automobile accident at the age of 58. I don't know that I have a lot to add to the many things I've heard and read in eulogizing The Macho Man over the last few days. Perhaps ESPN's Bill Simmons sums it up the best in a piece posted today, though I will note that, unlike Simmons, Macho Man was not my favorite wrestler. Rather, in what is probably a sign that I took everything way too seriously as a kid just as I do as an adult, my favorite wrestler was the other guy (the winner, I might add) in Macho Man's classic match from Wrestlemania III, which until the last few days I hadn't realized was more than just my favorite match of all time. My favorite wrestler was Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat ... or, alternately, RTDS, for those playing along.
The Macho Man and The Dragon shared more than just that epic match. They also shared a space in the wrestling game that my brothers and I created. You see, you could do variations on names, including names without nicknames, to create another layer to the game. And, so, "RS" could be given, with two possible answers: Randy Savage and Ricky Steamboat (unfortunately, my name didn't count ...).
And, as Simmons notes about Savage, The Macho Man and the Dragon also shared the good fortune of having the height of their success coinciding with the height of the WWF's popularity. The Macho Man was able to sustain and build upon that success more, even becoming known beyond wrestling audiences in later years for his Slim Jim advertisements, like the one featured above.
In that commercial, Savage asks, "Art thou bored?" and "Need a little excitement?" Indeed, I was, and I did, and for a while in the mid- to late 1980s, Randy "The Macho Man" Savage (or, RTMMS, that is ...) helped my brothers and I remedy that situation. For that, I remember him fondly.
Friday, April 15, 2011
MLB Integration at 64
Today marks 64 years since Jackie Robinson played his first game for the Brooklyn Dodgers, initiating the process of racial integration of Major League Baseball and, thus, opening the door for many African-American ballplayers to play in the majors in the time since. Still, within 15 years of that integration, the Negro Leagues were gone, and to this day Major League Baseball remains without African-American ownership. For more on this, please read my post on the subject from two years ago.
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