Oh my God - you missed me soooooooooooo much.
I'm back now, kittens. No need to freak out and go all "Chris Benoit" on me (What? Too soon?).
Things that happened in my absence from the journal:
- We played one of our funnest, most awesomest shows to date on Friday night. It didn't start out so great, as the band that preceded us was, shall we say, less than peppy. A few audience members got so depressed, they went home and immediately pulled a "Chris Benoit" (What? Too late?). Not exactly the ideal lead-in for an obnoxiously smiley power pop foursome.
Eventually, our sexy dance moves and gin-augmented enthusiasm won them over. Plus, it was Scamper's crazy summer sale: our merch was all half-price! And you missed it, you fucking jerks! God, sometimes I get so angry at you I want to go all "Chris Benoit" on you (What? Does lame comedy always have to come in threes?).
- I lost a hug contest to my drummer. I'm still reeling from it.
- The greatest pro wrestler in the world (sorry, Kurt) went nuts and killed his family and himself. Despite my earlier lame attempts at coping humor, this was probably the biggest gut punch I've felt as a 20+ year wrestling fan. While there has been no shortage of tragedies in the wrestling world (Owen Hart and Eddie Guerrero were particular toughies), there has been nothing on this level of brutality, confusion, and sadness. I don't know whether it was steroids, concussions, or just good old fashioned mental illness that made Benoit do what he did. But I'm sure the grind of the wrestling lifestyle didn't help.
As a fan of the sleazy business of wrestling, you always know in the back of your head that these men (and few women) are essentially mutilating their bodies and rotting their minds for your entertainment. You tell yourself that a) no one's making them choose this line of work and b) they must love what they do. Ultimately, they want to entertain me.
After this nightmare, I can't help but feel a little bit culpable. It's no one's fault but Benoit's, of course. He's a murderer. But I'm starting to feel weird about continuing to watch this form of entertainment that has shortened so many lives.
I've watched zero hours of wrestling since I heard about the Benoit incident. And I don't know when or if I'm going back.
I'm back now, kittens. No need to freak out and go all "Chris Benoit" on me (What? Too soon?).
Things that happened in my absence from the journal:
- We played one of our funnest, most awesomest shows to date on Friday night. It didn't start out so great, as the band that preceded us was, shall we say, less than peppy. A few audience members got so depressed, they went home and immediately pulled a "Chris Benoit" (What? Too late?). Not exactly the ideal lead-in for an obnoxiously smiley power pop foursome.
Eventually, our sexy dance moves and gin-augmented enthusiasm won them over. Plus, it was Scamper's crazy summer sale: our merch was all half-price! And you missed it, you fucking jerks! God, sometimes I get so angry at you I want to go all "Chris Benoit" on you (What? Does lame comedy always have to come in threes?).
- I lost a hug contest to my drummer. I'm still reeling from it.
- The greatest pro wrestler in the world (sorry, Kurt) went nuts and killed his family and himself. Despite my earlier lame attempts at coping humor, this was probably the biggest gut punch I've felt as a 20+ year wrestling fan. While there has been no shortage of tragedies in the wrestling world (Owen Hart and Eddie Guerrero were particular toughies), there has been nothing on this level of brutality, confusion, and sadness. I don't know whether it was steroids, concussions, or just good old fashioned mental illness that made Benoit do what he did. But I'm sure the grind of the wrestling lifestyle didn't help.
As a fan of the sleazy business of wrestling, you always know in the back of your head that these men (and few women) are essentially mutilating their bodies and rotting their minds for your entertainment. You tell yourself that a) no one's making them choose this line of work and b) they must love what they do. Ultimately, they want to entertain me.
After this nightmare, I can't help but feel a little bit culpable. It's no one's fault but Benoit's, of course. He's a murderer. But I'm starting to feel weird about continuing to watch this form of entertainment that has shortened so many lives.
I've watched zero hours of wrestling since I heard about the Benoit incident. And I don't know when or if I'm going back.
9 Comments:
The June 22nd show was my 20th Scamper show. (I'm a relative newcomer).
It was the best I think I've seen.
You guys sounded great and looked like you were having a grand old time without a care in the world.
Great show.
I don't know whether it was steroids, concussions, or just good old fashioned mental illness that made Benoit do what he did.
I blame the WWE. They knew he had rabies for years and did nothing about it...
I blame the WWE. They knew he had rabies for years and did nothing about it...
Oh, he was literally a rabid wolverine. I thought it was just a clever nickname.
You've been holding that joke for a week, waiting for an audience, haven't you?
You've been holding that joke for a week, waiting for an audience, haven't you?
Yessir. Almost emailed you right after, but decided it would be worth the wait for the journal. And, man, it was worth it....
Yessir. Almost emailed you right after, but decided it would be worth the wait for the journal. And, man, it was worth it....
America thanks you for your patience.
No tribute to Rod Beck?
Jeesh.
I continue to enjoy Scamper's transition into Fleetwood Mac. Well done!
---==> Ctbl
Believe it or not, when I first heard about this Benoit incident, the first thought that came to mind was: "I wonder what Brendan thinks about this".
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