Kids who don’t get it get normal dads, so leave me alone. Let me have my action figures.
Magazines and CDs, you can raise me.
Rowdy Roddy Piper was every old guy’s favorite. He’s crazy.
Does Hillbilly Jim live in our town?
A certain smell on grandpa’s breath. Grows familiar. Saturday Night’s Main Event.
Kids fresh from the tub permitted to watch. Late night, popcorn at home. Those onesie jammies that zip up in the back.
“Zip me up, sis, Jake the Snake's almost on.”
Dr. Dre in a sunny park.
“That’s Los Angeles. It’s where movies are made.”
Scary dudes with tempers. I can run fast like the Rockers do.
“Dad’s bringing home Wrestlemania 7. A guy at his work taped it,” an excited second grader on a Friday afternoon.
Snoop Dogg on a roof.
Stocking caps are cool.
King of the Ring ’94. Diesel vs. The Hit Man. Champ vs. champ.
Tupac and his love for California. Awkward middle school dance.
Bret Hart vs. Shawn Michaels. An Iron Man match.
“Is Anaheim part of that Los Angeles place?”
My friend blares "No Diggity" at our overnight parties. We talk about Megan and Jessica.
Who are these guys yelling about fighting for their right to party?
Will we have to do that soon?
Why is Puff Daddy on a jet ski?
My stepdad watched Wrestlemania 14 with me. Did my mom make him?
’99 Marshall reminds me of ’96 Stone Cold.
Music is starting to be used during something else. Wrestlers jumping off ladders. I didn’t know anyone forgot about Dre. T-shirts from the mall. Juvenile has all the girls dancing at this house party. The Rock doesn’t care what your name is. Rappers from New Orleans have everyone talking bling bling. Taco Bell chalupas. Up in Smoke didn’t come to our town, but the DVD got to my room. The Dudley Boys and their tables on those 1 am Saturday night replays. Spencer’s Gifts. Something about me and the system don’t agree. Mom is begging me to go with the flow. But the flow of Jay Z’s new album each fall has me pressing for something new.
This energy. I gotta be...
Some people aren’t into wrestling and rap like I am.
It’s just a “thing” for them.
Loud music. Low grades. I’m slippin’. More CDs.
Less choices. No reason this is happening that I can see.
The deepness is like a demon, up to where my knees is.
Need to make sense of this for my future.
Royce’s Book of Ryan.
Make something. A life of inspiration in a single room.
If I follow my feelings then, I can follow them now.
Maybe this is a blueprint for me.
Spent 9/11 with Jay Z.
Read XXL Friday night after work.
I trust it’ll come together.
Love from within, not knowing.
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