Category: Uncategorized

Eddie Guerrero–a wrestler I enjoyed watching when I got back into rasslin’ from 1999-2002 (or thereabouts)–died yesterday in his hotel room. He was 38, and my immediate guess is that he had a heart attack probably related to his steroid-fueled massivity.

Eddie used to do a great frog splash from the top of the ropes. This move unfortunately led to his dislocating his elbow one time, which was awfully grotesque. He came back from that injury with an absolutely massive physique.

I tuned into the beginning of WWE Raw tonight to see how they’d pay tribute to him (it’s a live show). I felt like I was in Crisis on Infinite Earths, as massive men in vinyl masks stood crying on stage. Ric Flair, in a purple-and-silver feathered robe, tries to look stoic, but lip quivering. A 7-foot-tall (?) monster walks to the ring trying to smile, but his eyes are red and puffy. Vince McMahon stutters at the beginning, about to cry, but recovers.

They’re trying to perform, but the crowd’s completely quiet. Time for Monday Night Football…

If only a Representative from the West Coast proposed this legislation. Oh, well.

Alternate joke: Maybe this Record Collection Act means that they’ll stop putting out new Tupac CDs!

Of course, you’d have a hard time proving that if you read this page.

The official VM fiancee found this page while researching her OTHER fiancee, NFL referee Ed Hochuli. Seriously, we click through all the games each Sunday on League Pass just to see which one he’s reffing. She’s obsessed. SIGH…

Sometimes this blog writes itself. Othertimes, the official VM brother and the official VM fiancee team up and take care of it for me. To wit:

Here’s some contradictory advice from some WWI vets on how to live a long and happy life!

Thanks for all service you’ve done (or are currently doing) for our country!

I forgot to mention: I had a run of plane trips in which I bumped into second (or third) tier athletes or retired guys. Hasn’t happened in a few years, but I may have started a new streak last night (or this morning, depending on your pov): Neil O’Donnell, quarterback for the Superbowl-losing Pittsburgh Steelers of 1996, was a few seats behind me on Flight of the Damned.

When I saw him in the terminal at Nashville (6’3″ white guy, talking with his wife/girlfriend about an exec at CBS Sports), I figured he was somebody, but it turns out I was wrong.

The flight was insanely arduous. Delayed at the gate (plane couldn’t make it out of Newark for a while, due to weather). Delayed on the tarmac (landing windows weren’t available in Newark). Stacked in a holding pattern in awful crosswinds (hint: don’t put small, light airplanes in holding patterns during bad weather). Turbulence that had the stewardess talking in the shaky-voice over the intercom.

As a bonus, the monorail at Newark wasn’t functioning, so I got to walk over to the parking garage in the rain at 2:30 in the morning, more than four hours late. I’m gonna go to bed. Good to be home.

Bad-ass thunderstorms up in NJ/NY, so my flight back home is delayed. We’re waiting for the plane to come in from there, dump people, refuel, and get us home. It’s a little Embraer 145, one of those 50-seaters, so I’m not looking forward to the bumpy flight home. Which will land sometime way after midnight, instead of our scheduled 10pm.

Also, I realized during lunch today that I actually hadn’t set foot outside of Cracker Biodome in the 48 hours since I’d checked in on Monday. It was another 3 hours before I stepped outside, to get in a cab to the airport. So, not much Nashville-ing for me.

On the plus side, the gift area had a copy of that Sam Cooke biography I want, so I just picked that up. And the wireless hookup is $6.95 for 24 hours, so that ain’t bad.

Bwah-hah-hah!

Before I left for Nashville yesterday morning, I said to myself, “Don’t bring the camera. You’re not going out anywhere in the evening after the conference, and it’d just be one more thing to account for.”

Now it’s obvious that I was a jet-lagged wreck. How could I have failed to bring the one device that would provide irrefutable evidence that this resort/hotel/conference center is in fact Cracker Disney? Why hadn’t I looked at the site’s own description?

Under majestic, climate-controlled glass atriums, you’ll be surrounded by nine acres of lush indoor gardens, winding rivers and pathways, and sparkling waterfalls where you can unwind, explore, shop, dine, and be entertained to your heart’s content. Highlights include a 44-foot waterfall, laser-light and fountain shows, and tours aboard our Delta Flatboats – right inside the hotel.

and thought, “There needs to be a visual narrative for this”? You, dear reader, can only take my word for it that the entry gates to this majestic edifice are flanked by Cracker Barrel and Shoney’s.

Moreover, even my coworkers don’t believe that, while my hotel room does possesss a king-sized bed, that bed is actually a Murphy bed, mounted into the wall and made to look like an armoire! I’m not inclined to chalk that up to anything particularly “southron” so much as flat-out surreal. You’ll have to keep a picture in your mind’s eyes of that horrible realization that my bed was hidden away vertically, followed by a Poe-like scene in which I was nearly crushed by the descent of said bed.

Oh, with the regrets, dear reader. I’ll try to make it up to you with a field trip to Cracker Barrel before I leave.