I am a huge fan of the WWE and all that comes with it. But wrestling has taken a dip over the years. The wrestling I grew to love started when I was around 6-7 years old. That is the time my mom and grandfather would bring me across the border into Canada to watch this sport live. The greats at the time were Andre the Giant, the Rougeau Brothers, and Emile Dupress to name a few. The hits were hard, the blood was real, the excitement in the arena was electric. I would remember eating popcorn as I sat between my mom and her father. All one had to do was look at either one of them to know they were having the best time of their lives. They would shout out loud as the good guys won while they would boo at the bad guys. The two of them sitting still was an issue. I mean this was wrestling. My grandfather would pound his fist in his other hand as he got all tense up when the bad guys would cheat in any way shape or form. Going to the bathroom or getting food was only done before or after the matches. The fact they included me into this world of theirs was magical. For a few hours the three of us bonded with our mutual love for wrestling.
Wrestling now is soap opera tv for men. While the athletes are conditioned well and practice hard at their craft- it is in my opinion a show for the fans. The mechanism behind it has been lost due to it being a business first. I still watch it, why stop now? I love it still. But I only watch it for I remember the times I had with my grandfather who is no longer with us. The memories are still as vivid for me now as if I have a video recorder in my head playing these scenes out. With my memory being a crap shoot- I am glad these times has not been washed away with the passage of time.
So while there are people who feel wrestling is fake and a waste of time, I will continue to watch and enjoy. For when I do, my grandfather is sitting next to me enjoying it as much as I am. Remembering his smiles and the pure joy on his face is something I don’t ever want to lose. If that means watching wrestling in the form it is as of today, so be it.
I saw a post on a writer’s group about blogs, how if it was not done right or if it was overpowering that people would not return. Silly me asked people to take a look at mine. I knew it was not the best but I felt it was decent. What I got back was that it was not personally engaging. Now I had just returned home from a four hour outing with a fellow writer. We had enjoyed the time together as we shared our present project, our future goals and also tips for each other. However, in that five minutes that it took for me to ask and get that reply, my inner joy crashed. It was like the band aid that held my creative juices together had been ripped off. It stung hard. My eyes filled up with tears which gently rolled down my face. I had to wipe my glasses clean, they were so streaked with water. The more questions I asked the more dejected I became. While the tips given were helpful, inside my brain went into overdrive. Did I need to redo all the posts on my blog? Did I need to start a new blog? Should I just make the next entry better? I decided to give the blog a face lift of sorts. I did not want to eliminate the information I had laid out for it was still part of me and who I am, even if I was not expressing it properly. I wanted this blog to be the good, the bad and the ugly. But while I waited for someone, anyone, to tell me one good point I was asked what do I write about. My reply was my life and the things that come across it. Did this make my life unengaging? No, absolutely not. It just meant I had to figure out how to place on paper what was in my head in a different way.
Still the words “not personally engaging” kept being replayed in my head like a broken record. The ranges of emotions were sadness, frustration and at one point anger. The people who have viewed my blog had not once mentioned this small fact. Did they not want to hurt my feelings? Perhaps they did enjoy the blog. Not everything I write about will be liked. This did give me a time to reflect on this aspect of my writing. For in that, I found a silver lining. Regardless how the criticism made me feel, it was something I needed to hear. I did not doubt myself in my abilities to put words on paper. Writing is in my blood and it consumes me. So I will sort through the tips given, keep what works and tosses what does not. At the end of the day, I will still write.
Author Martin King will be finishing his #100blogfest(Twitter hashtag) today for all of us to enjoy. The topic is Biology
Biology by Martin King
When I went to ‘the big school’ or High School as it is often referred too, one of my favourite lessons was Biology. Not because I loved learning about all those botanical names, but because the teacher was such a push over.
In the summer we used to get to go out along the old railway line looking at and learning about the flora and fauna. To be honest it was just an excuse to get out of class. Our teacher Mr. Gott would try and control us, but every lesson we would start chanting “we wanna go out,” and invariably he would always concede defeat and let us.
Across the back of his Biology classroom was a long table. We would dump all our bags and coats on there. Sometimes one or two of the kids would hide under all the coats so when Mr. Gott took us out for a walk in the countryside, they would have the freedom to do whatever they wanted. I tried it once but got claustrophobic.
Anyway one day I turned up for class and he wasn’t there. Apparently he had been out walking in the Lake District ( a fantastic beautiful location in northern England), and had a fall and got killed. You can imagine how bad we all felt after all the hard times we had given him.
From that moment onwards I made sure I learned as much as I could in Biology. It ended up being one of the only subjects I passed. So this memory is for you Mr. Gott.
These blogs are all about fun and sharing. Thank you for reading a ‘#100blogfest’ blog. Please follow this link to find the next blog in the series: http://martinkingauthor.com/blog/7094550076