A few days ago, Cincinnati Magazinesent out an email touting their most popular stories of the year, with a three-pronged qualifier:
I’m not sure if they consider “pro wrasslin'” a sport. Doubtful. But I’m going to convince myself that they DO consider it a sport. How else could you explain the fact that the photo essay I wrote back in June didn’t make the list?
OK, I won’t delude myself any longer. Heck, I won’t even dupe myself into thinking that the “essay” part was the main event – Grant Moxley‘s photos were the real stars of the show.
But honestly, I wouldn’t care if the article was the least popular one of 2023. If you had told 10-year-old Dubbatrubba “in the future someone will pay you to attend a low-budget wrestling event, interview some wrestlers, and write a brief story about it” I’d have been so happy that I would’ve given you a celebratory Brainbuster. Or maybe a Camel Clutch. Or a Figure Four Leglock.
As a wee lad, the highlight of my rural Arkansas Saturday mornings was tuning in to professional wrestling on one of the two TV stations that we could get via our crappy rooftop antenna. (If you’re keeping score, they were the NBC and CBS stations out of Little Rock, a good 100 miles away. The ABC affiliate’s signal wasn’t as strong, thus I was denied a chance to see Happy Days in its prime. Talk about deprivation!)
I loved watching old-school pros like Dusty Rhodes, Andre the Giant, Ernie “Cat” Ladd, Sugar Ray Candy, and the Iron Sheik. I knew it was mostly an act, but it was a great escape from the challenges of everyday life. (And growing up poor in rural Arkansas, there were plenty of those!)
So when Cincinnati Magazine editor John Fox — an longtime friend of mine — asked me if I could write a photo essay about a minor-league wrestling organization based in town, I was ecstatic.
I loved the chance to connect my childhood avocation with my current vocation. It was an absolute blast!
I may never be a world champion in writing (or even win the “intercontinental belt” whatever that is), but at least I’m in the ring, taking my best shot.
P.S. having attended a Northern Wrestling Federation event where one wrestler did a backflip off the top rope and landed on another wrestler outside the ring, with only a thin piece of plywood protecting them from the concrete floor, here’s my response to anyone who tries to tell me that pro wrasslin’ is “fake.”
The pandemic may be over, but it created another scourge that’s spreading like wildfire in the business world: the superfluous “out” used with “share.”
“We’ll share out the PowerPoint deck after this meeting.”
“I can share my notes out with the rest of the team.”
Here, let me help you:
“We’ll share out the PowerPoint deck after this meeting.”
“I can share my notes out with the rest of the team.”
There, fixed them for you!
“Share” — in this sense — implies a distribution.
And there’s not a “share in”… right? So there’s no need for the “out.”
I don’t think I ever heard “share out” before the lockdown started. Maybe because everyone was cooped up IN their basement office, the “out” represented a desire to break down the new barriers… but hearing it is like nails on a chalkboard for me.
I won’t rest until “share out” has been eradicated. And the only known cure is raising awareness. If you hear someone using the term “share out”… ask them to restate the sentence without the “out.” (They’ll hate you for being a pedant, but such is the price we pay for better grammar.)
Remember, just “share” is enough…
(Unofficial spokesperson for the committee to stop the use of “share out”)
I like listening to the Smartless podcast, and understand that a lot of the commentary among co-hosts Jason Bateman, Sean Hayes and Will Arnett and their guest is just for laughs. But John McEnroe went too far when he started whining (a longtime specialty of his) about Pickleball. And Will Arnett just piled on. Here’s the clip (warning: contains salty language):
Yes, whiffle ball is not the same as baseball. And pickleball is not the same as tennis. And that’s partly the point. I used to love playing tennis… that was before my arthritic knees and feet betrayed me. Tennis turned into a game of “fetch.” And if you’re spending more time walking over to pick up a ball than you are hitting the ball, it’s really frustrating. Pickleball changed the equation. Yes, it’s a more compact area. And yes, it’s a plastic ball. But there’s still plenty of movement, plenty of strategy and it’s a ton of fun.
I AM serious, Johnny Mac. There’s no need to get your all-white shorts in a wad over “some college player who didn’t make it in tennis,” because:
That guy is making six figures playing a sport he loves, and definitely having fun doing so.
I’d rather watch him play pickleball than watch you play it.
It’s not really about Ben Johns, it’s about the millions of Bens, Johns, and Joans who are getting exercise, making friends, and having fun instead of sitting on their butts.
And I found it funny (but not the way he intended it) that Will Arnett was calling out pickleball for being “trash” and an activity that requires very little movement when, in almost every episode of Smartless, he talks about playing golf. If you want to start the “lazy person’s activity” argument, let’s start there, Willie. Because pickleball is legit.
In a 2016 study published in Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise, 12 middle-aged players burned 40% more calories during a 30-minute pickleball game than during 30 minutes of walking, increasing their heart rates to within the moderate-intensity exercise zone. A small six-week study of 15 people ages 40 to 85 who played an hour of pickleball three days a week showed improvements in cholesterol, blood pressure, and cardiorespiratory fitness.
Plus, regular practice can help improve balance, which is important in preventing falls as you age. Because pickleball requires both hand-eye and foot coordination, says Casper, “your balance, your movement, and your coordination all get better as you play more.”
Matthew Perry’s passing prompted the piece, but Dan’s thoughts could — and do — apply to anyone with a modicum of fame.
To achieve lasting self-esteem and a feeling of belonging in the world, we need a more intimate connectionwith others than fan worship can provide.
The post is well worth reading. Even if you’re not “famous” by the usual standards, this thought rings true:
I began to realize the most valuable things in life are not wealth and fame but relationships and community. I started paying more attention to the 3-dimensional people in my life than the number of followers on my social media accounts and have found it a much more satisfying use of my energy.
Nailed it! Who needs the A-list when we’ve got 3-D friends?
If you’re old enough to remember the 1990s, and if you’re even slightly into music, and you appreciate great writing, you really owe it to yourself to check out the 60 Songs That Explain the ’90s podcast.
Rob Harvilla, a senior staff writer for The Ringer, spends each episode breaking down a song from the ’90s. Actually, he spends about half of each episode on a series of digressions, often about his time growing up in northern Ohio in the 90s, before finally getting to the featured song. And the digressions are great – brilliantly written, completely engaging, and typically hilarious… and the humor is usually self-deprecating.
Writing about this podcast doesn’t do it justice… especially when it’s my writing. Just listen to the first three minutes of one of the episodes — pick any one, they’re all great — and you’ll be hooked.
Here’s the opening of the episode that covers Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like A Woman!”:
The series (which is well over 100 episodes/songs now… Rob himself calls it “the world’s most inaccurately named music podcast”) covers all sorts of tunes from the ’90s – from pop to country to R&B to hip-hop to indie rock. Some songs were monster hits… some have been mostly lost to the mists of our memory. It doesn’t really matter, as they all offer Rob a chance to wax eloquently about music and life (not necessarily in that order).
(Apparently this podcast is the #1 music podcast on Spotify, so I’m probably about three years late in touting it… sorry, I was busy.)
Rob Harvilla just released a book to accompany the podcast.
This book description does the podcast justice:
Ringer music critic Rob Harvilla reimagines all the earwormy, iconic hits Gen Xers pine for with vivid historical storytelling, sharp critical analysis, rampant loopiness, and wryly personal ruminations on the most bizarre, joyous, and inescapable songs from a decade we both regret entirely and miss desperately.
Yesterday, my friend Dave and I recorded a podcast episode. Just like we’ve done nearly 100 times over the past five years.
Never heard of our podcast? You’re not alone. 99.99% of the world has never heard of it, much less heard it. But for the few, the proud, the folks who remember a tiny “modern rock” station in Oxford, Ohio, the podcast was pretty darn cool. It helped them reconnect with the station, the music, and the people that meant a lot to them.
“I am not sure you guys realize just what impact having this modern rock format has had on my life… your podcast has brought about all of these thoughts, feelings, and memories of the soundtrack of 21 years on my life. I thank you for playing your part in it back then and I thank you for creating this podcast to help me process just what those 21 years have meant to me.”
“Thanks for the pod. It is like finally being able to talk with someone about the treasure that was WOXY.”
We found a niche — actually, it’s more like the niche found us, because we were horrible at promoting the podcast. But somehow, some way, the people who wanted to listen found us. And we had a ton of fun in the process.
But now we’ve exhausted the list of potential guests and topics. It’s been great, but it’s time to pull the plug on “Rumblings.”
I’m really proud of the work we did. Step 1 was figuring out how in the heck to do a podcast. Then came setting up the website, finding a hosting platform (Podbean has been great), scheduling the interviews, figuring out how to record them when we’re in different locations, doing the editing, and finally posting them. We put out a new episode nearly every two weeks for close to five years. It was a labor of love, but the accent was on “labor.”
I’ll miss it. It wasn’t just a chance for listeners to reconnect with a station they loved, it was also a chance for me to reconnect with my radio days. Guess I’ll have to find another outlet for my podcasting prowess (using that term extremely loosely). I have no idea what that’ll be. So you and I both will have to stay tuned…
Damian on Lost in a Cave: “Spend some time with his answers to fans’ questions on his Red Hand Files. You’ll enjoy it.” May 10, 19:25
impossibly4332b32374 on Lost in a Cave: “BTW, this is Chuck Wiggins…I guess I’m now known as impossibly4332b32374. That moniker has gone with me to a few…” May 10, 15:19
impossibly4332b32374 on Lost in a Cave: “I can resonate with that definition of prayer. I need to dig into him more. I’d love to hear how…” May 10, 15:18
LK on And they’re off!: “I feel this! I did the half with my son (mostly walking/cheating). It will rain as one of the happiest…” May 8, 06:47
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