Been around many types of people, rich and poor, hollywood and the gutter, and I can tell ya this much—I identify better with people from the gutter.
The ghetto, the barrio, the trailer park… whatever you want to call it, we’re not all that different. We share the same struggles of simply trying to keep a roof over our heads, the lights on, food on the table, and maybe some hunk-of-junk vehicle half-ass running to get to work everyday.
People from Hollywood and/or from Wall Street aren’t necessarily bad people. They just don’t get us, and what I’ve found is, I don’t get them. Sure, many of them work hard, and some even have many of the same struggles we do—just with better quality stuff. But many of them don’t, and so, they simply cannot understand our lives and in truth, we can’t understand theirs.
What is it like to be able to have pretty much anything you want, any time you want it? Is it great to not have to struggle for anything, or does it leave you feeling like there’s so much time to do things yet nothing you actually have to do?
Now, maybe I ask this question because I’ve never had one (spoiler/shocker - Joseph has never actually had a girlfriend. As if you’d be surprised by that revelation), but…
Can’t we just skip all the bullshit and go straight to the eventual conclusion where we despise each other? Only, we wouldn’t have a reason to despise each other, since we never became co-dependent on each other in the first place?
Yes, I know… there is all the happiness during, and having someone who makes your life ‘complete’… blah, blah, fucking blah… that’s all bullshit. There’s others who go with the simpler “for sex” answer, but you don’t need all the other bullshit for that. Just get together, knock up the chick, and pay child support for the next 18-plus years—it’s what will end up happening after you two split up anyway.
In the end, two people who were really good friends end up hating each other and trying to sabotage each others lives in one way or the other. It’s what always ends up happening.
So, with a seemingly growing number of people who are trying to pressure me into getting into a relationship—as if, it were just that easy. Face it, there is absolutely nothing about me any woman would find remotely attractive—I have to wonder why should I bother?
Hey, you… let’s hook up, hang out, piss each other off at some point, break up, and hate each other.
Most people who know me well, know that I’m not exactly a ‘positive’ person. I’m not a #PMA guy (Positive Mental Attitude, for those that don’t know).
I’m trying to change that, but it’s not as easy as just flipping a switch. I wish it were.
A little over ten years ago, my Dad passed away. Not long before that, we were talking and… I told him some of the things that I’d like to do in life. One of them was to become a play-by-play broadcaster. Specifically for the Lakers, as I have always been a big Lakers fan and grew up listening to Chick Hearn call games. Even though I’m not a Dodgers fan, most people around me are, so I got to listen to the great Vin Scully—and fortunately, still do today. Of course, I have always been a big Pro Wrestling fan, and got to grow up hearing Gorilla Monsoon call matches.
My Dad’s response sticks with me to this day. Specifically, he was talking about Chick Hearn.
"Why would they use you, when they have him?"
Granted, I never would put myself anywhere near the same class as someone like Chick Hearn, heh, but I’ve pretty much grew up feeling like this was the general attitude people took towards me and anything I’ve ever wanted to do.
"They already have someone great. Why would they need you?"
On top of that, there was no other person who made me feel more stupid for being a Pro Wrestling fan than my Dad.
"Those guys are circus clowns, performing that fake shit."
Sadly, when my Dad passed, I had already been doing some P.A. Announcing for a couple of years. Little League, sure, but I still treated it like I was training to do something bigger someday. What’s so bad about it—besides the fact that he never heard me call a game—was that baseball was his favorite sport. Back in his day, Dad was a pretty good ballplayer, and played some Minor League and Semi-Pro stuff. He went to Viet Nam as a young man, and as one could imagine, it messed him up pretty well. The fact that he had been hit… not once, but on two separate occasions, probably didn’t help. By the time he got into playing ball, he was already in his 30’s. He was running circles around these 17, 18 and 19 year old kids, and probably had enough skills to make it into something bigger, but his age didn’t work to his favor and you could tell that he was a little bitter about it at times.
I’m not what society would call “old”, but I’m not a child either. I’m about to turn 36. I think there’s a lot more I can—and will—do, but I do notice sometimes in my attitude towards people, I carry a lot of the same bitterness that he did. I don’t want that.
Like my Dad, I went into the Military at 17—albeit, I wasn’t drafted as he was. I entered during a period of ‘cease fire’ in 1995. Not purely ‘war time’, but not purely ‘peace time’ either. We were still involved in Operation Southern Watch, maintaining the ‘No Fly Zone’ over the Persian Gulf. I don’t claim to know a lot about what went on, as I just did my job for the most part, but I know we sent out ‘strikes’—planes taking off with a full load of ordinance, and coming back ‘empty’.
When I separated from Active Duty in September 1999, my plan was to take a ‘short’ break, and then attend college. I had actually gotten some brochures and such, so I was basically ready to start in Spring.
…things, didn’t go that way. I did eventually take college courses and earned an Associate degree in Business Administration—meaning, I’m fully qualified to work as a fry cook at McDonald’s, lol. My Dad had already passed, so he obviously never saw me graduate.
Other things in life took place, and I still haven’t completed my Bachelor’s. In fact, I actually went back to school and got a ‘diploma’ in Network Systems Administration—a whole different field. I have a few brochures from the All Pro Wrestling Boot Camp, including one from 1999 when Modest was still there. Basically, I was all over the place and never quite sure what I wanted to do. In many ways, that hasn’t changed, which is both good and bad as on one hand, there are many things I’d like to do, yet on the other, I’m not getting very far in any particular field and I’m probably running out of time.
My Dad died at 54. Not all that old, but as Indiana Jones once said, “It’s not the age, it’s the mileage.” Dad had a LOT of miles on him.
Still, he never heard me P.A. Announce my High School’s Homecoming Game. He never heard me P.A. Announce for my High School’s basketball team (granted, he wasn’t exactly a huge basketball fan, as he would regularly point out to me.). He never heard me doing broadcast commentary for Vendetta Pro TV. He never saw me Ring Announce a Pro Wrestling event at a venue on Santa Monica Blvd in Hollywood for MEXPRO, at the Gold Coast Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas for Vendetta Pro, the last wrestling event at The Dome (formerly Strongbow Stadium and Strelich Stadium) for CCW or on National Television for Championship Wrestling From Hollywood.
Neither have any of the people in my life who had always told me that I would never do it. I wouldn’t ever be anybody and I would never do anything.
Not saying that I’ve done a lot, or that there isn’t more to do. I also know that I’m probably never going to do anything for WWE or TNA as I don’t have the ‘Hollywood’ look (yet, I ring announced in Hollywood. Go figure, heh). I’m probably not going to do play-by-play for the Lakers or any other “Pro” franchise. But what good is it proving the doubters wrong if they don’t know about it? What’s worse… knowing that they probably wouldn’t care?
I’m working on trying to not care about that anymore, even though it’s probably been the biggest driving force for me to try to do much of anything in life. I mean, I know that I’ve done things that others have said I never would. In many ways, that should be enough.
Why would they use me? I guess because I’ve found that while I may not be ‘great’, I’m half-assed decent at it.
BTW, I don’t set out to piss off other people. I don’t try to hurt anybody’s feelings. I just don’t try to bullshit people.
Yes, if you know me, I’m probably using you to get something I want. Fact is, it’s what everybody does. If I couldn’t provide something for someone, nobody would want anything to do with me—and I can’t say that I blame them. Again, it’s what everybody does. It’s nature.
If we can both get what we want out of life, then everything should be good and we should help each other. If you’re going after something that I’m not, then yeah, I’ll do what I can to help you. If you’re looking to take something that I have or that I want—I’ll probably do what I can to sabotage you. It’s what everybody does. All the time. Only difference is, I’m flat-out telling you.
Really? You don’t want the answer. The quick, simple facts are:
1.) You aren’t me.
2.) You breathe.
…I don’t really need any other reasons to have a problem with your existence. But then, you give me more.
You people annoy me. You take from me. You… fill space. Fuckin’, whatever. I don’t really need a reason and I don’t need to justify myself or the way I feel about anyone and/or anything to someone who exists merely because it’s not worth my effort to end your existence. I don’t answer to you. Any of you. Fuck you. I do or do not do what the fuck I want to or don’t want to do, and if I do, I do it when and how I want to do it.
I may perform tasks for others in exchange for money but I don’t have a ‘boss’ except for myself and if I damn well want to leave—fuck your company and/or organization, I’m outta here. I come and go as I damn well please and if you threaten my livelihood, you leave me with no other option but to end yours. So, just don’t. Just stay the fuck out of my way, and whatever you get from me, be happy that you got that much.
Ironically, there are a few out there who are very happy with what I’ve given them. That is the way it should be. I don’t exist to please any of you, I exist to make myself happy. If in doing so, you’re happy as well—life is good. If not, then—fuck off and die. Slow and messy like.