Post by PhD on Jul 19, 2017 17:54:21 GMT
They said I could never attain this.
They said that professional wrestling was the lowest form of theater.
They told me to become a professional, acquire things, live the American Dream.
What a boring and meaningless life that became.
They disowned me because I didn't want the boring life they know.
Yet here I am, on the verge of breaking into the biggest wrestling company on the planet!
Shows just how much they know, don't they?
Paul's Story
I always had an infatuation with professional wrestling. Ever since I had caught our live-in au pair watching it on her television in the cupboard my family gave her to live in, I became infatuated with these real and lively super-heroes and super-villains doing battle on the television. Of course, when I reported my findings to my parents, they were appalled that I found such interest in such a barbaric show of theater. Shortly after that, the au pair was fired, but what I saw that night could not be undone.
I had managed to make friends who shared that love and infatuation with professional wrestling. Sure, I met some derision for my love of the show, but it never stopped me from being a willing mark. While the storylines were obviously fake, there was no doubt that the slams and gravity were real. Like this was where stuntmen come to become stars and household names.
So when I left for Syracuse to go to college, I got curious and looked around. I had actually found a wrestling school and spent some of my living allowance from my parents to go to school. At least until they cut me off. You'd think that they'd be thrilled I wasn't spending this money on booze, dope and hookers, but instead they insisted that I stop this infatuation with such a low art form.
I got a job and continued to pay my way through wrestling school. I even did a few local and out of state shows, but continued to pursue my education. I eventually attained my Ph.D Clinical Psychology and Counseling while still performing on the side.
While being a counselor was somewhat fulfilling, I felt like there was something missing from my life. Life had gotten boring, stale. Somewhere between trading in one Mercedes for another before driving to my near half-million dollar home, I finally cracked.
I couldn't take living this double life anymore.
So I quit my job, sold my house at less than market price, and traded my Mercedes in for van to travel and sleep in style on my first serious foray into professional wrestling. I carpooled fellow wrestlers across the country, slept in my van to save money, and sustained myself on stale bread and tuna fish for days on end. Grateful if I was to ever get a hot meal somewhere in between. I worked from the bottom to the where I am now and paid my dues.
My family was not only baffled by my change, but rather unsupportive of my choice to pursue this "low art form". God, how I hate hearing them call pro wrestling "low class". They disowned me, saying they didn't know who I was anymore. However, I refuse to apologize for not being what they want me to be. Happy isn't obviously what they want for me, though. I guess that is one unhealthy relationship I no longer have to worry about.
But three years later, and I'm on the verge of stepping into the biggest wrestling show on Planet Earth. About to be broadcast, pending contract negotiations, worldwide. My silly little low-class dream is about to come true. Of course, as it has always been from my humble beginnings until now, I will NOT be the hero of this story, but rather the antagonist. As it should and always will be. But it could be worse, I could play the hero and say all the lame stuff they have to say in response to the witty and cutting remarks the villains get to say.
Maybe someday I'll play the hero, but not today. Rather, I will forever and always be grateful to have made into the biggest show on Earth while proving everyone wrong after telling me what a "crazy dream" I'm pursuing. I may not be worth millions when my career is over, but at least I'll be happy...
Afterwards, I'll have one hell of a client list!
They said that professional wrestling was the lowest form of theater.
They told me to become a professional, acquire things, live the American Dream.
What a boring and meaningless life that became.
They disowned me because I didn't want the boring life they know.
Yet here I am, on the verge of breaking into the biggest wrestling company on the planet!
Shows just how much they know, don't they?
Paul's Story
I always had an infatuation with professional wrestling. Ever since I had caught our live-in au pair watching it on her television in the cupboard my family gave her to live in, I became infatuated with these real and lively super-heroes and super-villains doing battle on the television. Of course, when I reported my findings to my parents, they were appalled that I found such interest in such a barbaric show of theater. Shortly after that, the au pair was fired, but what I saw that night could not be undone.
I had managed to make friends who shared that love and infatuation with professional wrestling. Sure, I met some derision for my love of the show, but it never stopped me from being a willing mark. While the storylines were obviously fake, there was no doubt that the slams and gravity were real. Like this was where stuntmen come to become stars and household names.
So when I left for Syracuse to go to college, I got curious and looked around. I had actually found a wrestling school and spent some of my living allowance from my parents to go to school. At least until they cut me off. You'd think that they'd be thrilled I wasn't spending this money on booze, dope and hookers, but instead they insisted that I stop this infatuation with such a low art form.
I got a job and continued to pay my way through wrestling school. I even did a few local and out of state shows, but continued to pursue my education. I eventually attained my Ph.D Clinical Psychology and Counseling while still performing on the side.
While being a counselor was somewhat fulfilling, I felt like there was something missing from my life. Life had gotten boring, stale. Somewhere between trading in one Mercedes for another before driving to my near half-million dollar home, I finally cracked.
I couldn't take living this double life anymore.
So I quit my job, sold my house at less than market price, and traded my Mercedes in for van to travel and sleep in style on my first serious foray into professional wrestling. I carpooled fellow wrestlers across the country, slept in my van to save money, and sustained myself on stale bread and tuna fish for days on end. Grateful if I was to ever get a hot meal somewhere in between. I worked from the bottom to the where I am now and paid my dues.
My family was not only baffled by my change, but rather unsupportive of my choice to pursue this "low art form". God, how I hate hearing them call pro wrestling "low class". They disowned me, saying they didn't know who I was anymore. However, I refuse to apologize for not being what they want me to be. Happy isn't obviously what they want for me, though. I guess that is one unhealthy relationship I no longer have to worry about.
But three years later, and I'm on the verge of stepping into the biggest wrestling show on Planet Earth. About to be broadcast, pending contract negotiations, worldwide. My silly little low-class dream is about to come true. Of course, as it has always been from my humble beginnings until now, I will NOT be the hero of this story, but rather the antagonist. As it should and always will be. But it could be worse, I could play the hero and say all the lame stuff they have to say in response to the witty and cutting remarks the villains get to say.
Maybe someday I'll play the hero, but not today. Rather, I will forever and always be grateful to have made into the biggest show on Earth while proving everyone wrong after telling me what a "crazy dream" I'm pursuing. I may not be worth millions when my career is over, but at least I'll be happy...
Afterwards, I'll have one hell of a client list!
Well howdy there pardner.