Archive for September, 2018
Most of what I post on this blog happened years ago, but today I’m posting about something from the present. Yesterday was the first time I watched a wrestling match with my son.
One of my favourite things about being a parent is taking my son Tiny Dog (obviously not his real name) to different places and events. We have seen museums, theme parks, playgrounds, the circus, and live music, but I’m really looking forward to the day when I take him to his first wrestling show. I’m planning to take him when he’s a bit older (he’s only 4 now), but thanks to the wonder of Youtube, I decided to give him a bit of a sample of what pro-wrestling is all about.
I was lucky enough to grow up during the Hulkamania era of pro wrestling. The show was cheesy, over the top, and something that the family could watch. At the time I suspected, but didn’t know for sure that I wasn’t watching a legitimate athletic contest. It was a fun time to be a wrestling fan! My parents took my sister and I to see WWF (now WWE) every time they came to Winnipeg.
The good memories from my youth influenced the match choice for my son. I decided on a Hulk Hogan vs. Randy Savage match from 1985. This is during the second year of Hogan’s title reign; it was so old that he was still using Eye of the Tiger as his entrance music! The match itself is a textbook example of a cowardly, cheating heel vs. a superhero babyface. There were probably about 20 moves in total performed in 20 minutes and the crowd went nuclear for each one of them.
Tiny Dog’s reactions to the match were hilarious. He was upset that Hogan tore off his shirt and threw it at the start of the match. Why would he rip his shirt? He thought Macho Man was the good guy because he had a sparkly cape and a pretty girlfriend. He kept asking me where Hogan’s girlfriend was. There were some kids in Hulkamania gear in the front row – Tiny Dog wanted to invite them to our house for a play date. When I asked him who he thought would win, he picked Macho Man. What a mark – Savage never beats Hogan!!
I loved Tiny Dog’s reactions, but my favourite part was Randy Savage’s changing name. During the match, Tiny Dog referred to him as Macho Man, Macho Guy, and Macho Friend. Macho Friend was pretty cool, but I’m not sure that it would sell a lot of t-shirts.
After our viewing experience, I’m even more excited for the day that I can take my son to his first wrestling show. If we are still in Winnipeg, I expect we will see Canadian Wrestling’s Elite, a modern take on the classic wrestling territory operated by wrestler and booker “Hotshot” Danny Duggan. I’m looking forward to an afternoon of cheering the faces and booing the heels with my kid. Hopefully this will not be followed by any chairshots to daddy at home.
Long Live the Macho Friend!
Our wedding ceremony was held at St. Theresa’s Roman Catholic Church in West St. Paul, just north of Winnipeg. We picked the location because of the priest, the fantastic Father Mike. The small town prairie church also fit with our modest, sensibly sized wedding. Neither one of us wanted a lavish, fairy tale ceremony with hundreds of people. We ended up with a humble, intimate gathering of about 100.
Father Mike had known me for years, and when he learned that I was engaged, he insisted that he perform our wedding. I was raised Catholic, but I’m not what anyone would consider “active” in the church. The Penpal was not raised anything close to being Catholic. I brought this up with Father Mike, but he was not deterred at all. He even promised to learn Japanese if we asked!
During our marriage prep Father Mike contacted Catholic priests in Japan to get recommended readings and suggestions for a good bilingual bible. BTW – bible translation is a subject big enough for its own blog post. We didn’t end up making him learn Japanese, but we did teach him how to say “stand”, “sit”, “kneel”, and “pray” in Japanese to help The Penpal’s parents through the ceremony.
The ceremony itself was short and meaningful. We had readings in English and Japanese, and then Father Mike gave a brief speech about how The Penpal and I could share love with the world by being a good example for others. A common criticism of Catholic weddings or funerals is that the ceremony can be more about church and not enough about the people. Father Mike is an excellent speaker, and his sermon was just right for the occasion.
Other than being surrounded by family and friends, one of my favourite things about the wedding ceremony is that our photographer managed to capture what is possibly the only picture in existence of my father-in-law smiling. We obviously did something right 🙂
After an eventful start to my day which included communication problems and property crime, I returned home to start getting myself mentally and physically prepared for my wedding. The bride’s side of the family went to my sister’s house to get ready, while I was joined by Best Men Hippie and Triple D at my apartment.
We played video games and enjoyed a beer while slowly getting ourselves presentable for the wedding. (No, I don’t usually drink in the morning). Hanging out with my friends was a great way to keep me calm. Eventually we were all dressed and looking good, happy that our rented tuxes still fit despite getting measured a few months earlier. Right before we went out the door, Triple D decided to show us how comfortable and well fitting his pants were by jumping around. He assured us that there was no way the pants would possibly rip.
With an hour before the wedding, 30 minutes by car to the venue, one of my best men had completely ripped the crotch out of his rented tuxedo pants. We surveyed the damage which one of us accurately and inelegantly described as a “pants vagina”. The place we rented the tux was completely in the wrong direction from the church. I didn’t own a sewing kit, so Triple D suggested that we should try to buy one at the nearby Shopper’s Drug Mart.
Osborne Village Shopper’s Drug mart is always very busy. Hippie circled the parking lot while Triple D ran into the store, pants ripped wide open, to find a sewing kit. By the time we finally found a parking spot he had returned with purchase in hand. We were starting to seriously run out of time, so Triple D decided to make his repairs while we drove.
For anyone who hasn’t had the “pleasure” of driving in Winnipeg, the roads are generally in terrible shape. The temperature ranges from -30 in the winter to +35 in the summer, which is not easy on the road surface. On any other day, the cracks and potholes are merely an inconvenience. For Triple D, who was trying to stitch up the pants he was wearing while jammed in the front seat of a 2 door Toyota Echo, it presented a bit more of a challenge. Hippie, being a good friend, drove as fast as possible, suddenly swerving around the biggest holes. Somehow, despite the additional difficulty, Triple D successfully repaired the giant, gaping hole in his clothing just before we arrived at the church.
With a few minutes remaining before the ceremony started, Hippie pulled out a small football. Inspired by the cinematic classic “The Room”, we spent our last few minutes before the ceremony throwing the football very short distances to each other while wearing tuxes. Success!