All that being said, let's dive into this blog entry...
Growing up.. Who I am today.. Misconceptions about me.. All of this will be covered today. I had a suggestion to speak on what it was like growing up and my childhood. It's not really as self serving as it sounds. This suggestion came in fact from my sister. She and I have had a very unique relationship and we'll talk a little about that here.
I am the youngest... I was born in 1977 (quit laughing), my sister was born in 1974 (ok to laugh), and as most older siblings do I was on the losing end of some beatings as a little kid. Now before she jumps in to defend herself I'll give you some examples of what I'm pretty sure were several attempts to kill me... I was little and as any little kid does, I liked to be swung around and rough house. My sister seeing this takes the opportunity to play "air plane" with me. That is a game where you grab one leg, and one arm and twirl with said person as they "fly".... Now, I only remember bits and pieces of this story as the head injury and trauma have most likely forced me to block this from vivid memory... As I'm told, she grabs an arm and a leg, begins to twirl around, (in the living room mind you, not outside where this probably should have been done.) I'm sure I'm laughing and giggling innocently as she speeds up, until the coffee table lovingly stops my flight immediately... Did I mention that it was my face that hit the coffee table?? More specifically my mouth?? I don't remember that happening as I was probably concussed, bloody, and screaming my head off... I ended up biting a chunk of my bottom lip out and to this day have a divot where there was once part of my lip.. I don't think I got stitches for that deal but I am left with the reminder of her first attempt on my life...
Second attempt- I as any young child loved riding my bike outside. I had a blue tricycle with red pedals and red handle grips that I LOVED.. I would race around the basement, doing laps around the pool table pretending to be Richard Petty (I think I literally heard a collective "WHO?" just now.). Anyway, it was summer and I had my bike out in our drive way riding around, minding my business, not hurting anyone. When I hear "Hey, do you wanna go really fast???" Do I wanna go fast?? Heck yes I wanna go fast, do you really need to ask?? So, I should have seen the red flags waving wildly on this offer to go fast when I see she's positioned at the top of a rather steep hill we used for sledding in the winters.. So I ride over to her and she says "I'm gonna push you down this hill and you're gonna fly!" Me being 3-4 years old am beyond excited. So I willingly (or stupidly) roll to the edge of the hill, she steps behind me and with a one....two....three..... she shoves me down this steep hill and she was right, I was screaming down this hill, both literally and vocally.. About half way down my front tire turns completely sideways, my right foot goes into the front wheel and gets tangled in the spokes, and for the rest of the way down the hill it's a blur of me and the bike tumbling until we reach the bottom. I honestly thought I was dead as I lay there in the yard.. My foot still in the spokes, the bike on top of me.. I look up to the top of the hill to my sister and all I see is her back as she runs away and disappears... I manage to get my foot out of the spokes, and literally crawl up the hill on hands and knees, the whole time thinking that I was going to die... I couldn't walk, so I crawl all the way to the house, crying, and my mom finally comes out and grabs me. I don't remember how bad my foot was, or if Nick got in any trouble for doing that. But that was attempt number 2 on my life.
There was a time where she had a friend over. And as any little brother or sibling would do, I followed them around because I had nothing better to do. I'm met with a kick to the stomach for doing so. I remember my mom carrying me around the kitchen making dinner as I sobbed, not understanding why she'd do that.
My sister was ahead of her time... Where as my niece (her daughter) takes selfies as often as she breathes, my sister used to take selfies with....(wait for it)..... A Polaroid.... She also had the aspirations of being a Solid Gold Dancer (I know I'm dating myself but Google it if you want to know what it is) and could be found practicing for said career in the basement to Tiffany or Debbie Gibson.. Needless to say that career got about as far off the ground as Tiffany's or Debbie Gibson's... She was also a cheerleader.. And not just during football or basketball season... 365 days a year!!! Be Aggressive, B-E Aggressive, B-E A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E.... I am still haunted by those cheers to this day... I wake up from nightmare's reciting them. I know what a Herkie and a Russian are.. And was asked if I could do them frequently, and most likely did so... There were nights upon nights of going to home games, sleeping in the back of the van waiting for her to return from away games... She is getting a reminder of that lifestyle as my niece is now a cheerleader who is following in her footsteps. This is one aspect in which I am glad I have all boys.
Then a glorious thing happened that changed the landscape for my relationship with my sister. I started watching wrestling, I started fighting back, and I was growing up. The tide turned and soon she was being body slammed and receiving high knees to the back. She was Rowdy Roddy Piper to my Hulk Hogan... And I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy practicing what I watched on TV on her. Don't try this at home.... Please... You might as well have said "Rob, this is how you perform this move... Now go find your sister and try it out."
That's not to say she wouldn't fight back. I have a scar on my hand from her pressing a curling iron onto it like she was trying to work a confession out of me. I have a scar on my elbow from a wound I'm sure could have took a stitch or two from a hairbrush that was thrown at me. And let's visit the time after we moved into the house we'd eventually move out of as adults... I had to have been 14-15 and she 17-18... Something happened, not sure what started it honestly... Next thing I know she's chasing me through the house with a Phillips Screwdriver.. Chases me up the stairs, I get into my bed room, and put my back up against the door laughing at her and talking mass amounts of trash when CRACK... The screwdriver appears through the door above my shoulder by about 6 inches. I spin around and put my hands on the door (probably not the smartest of moves) and CRACK the screwdriver comes through the middle of the door.... Had I remained where I was she'd have shanked me like we were in prison. There are holes in that door to this day from that incident. Probably one of the scarier fights we had. And that was the 3rd and final attempt on my life. Needless to say she moved out, I moved out, and things have been brawl free since.
There have been a lot of misconceptions about me growing up and even today. A lot of people think I'm quiet. And I am, if I don't know you, am uncomfortable, or just don't have anything to say. I'm not big on small talk. Don't mistake that for being mean, far from it. If I know you and we small talk that's cool. If I'm somewhere out in public and Joe Blow engages me about the weather or the 1 Direction concert he went to. I'm most likely going to nod politely and move on or act like I'm doing something. I just get very uncomfortable in a conversation that has been struck up merely because there was nothing else to do... I'm good with silence and don't need to fill every vocal void with tidbits about weather, music, life... That may sound anti-social, and it very well might be, but it's who I am.
When you get to know me, I talk a lot for the most part. In high school I had the reputation for looking mean but then someone would get to know me and make a comment like "I thought you were this mean, quiet person, but you're actually not like that at all." I still get that from time to time and that's ok, I'm appreciative of those who have taken the time to get to know me.
I'm a pretty fun person I think. I may be overly sarcastic at times. I do cry from time to time. My kids can get me pretty emotional with little to no effort. I don't like scary movies. I don't like gory movies. I don't like watching arms or legs break. I don't like the sound of forks scratching on plates. I don't like watching animals suffer. I won't watch a movie where I know an animal dies even if it's not real. I don't like seeing kids in pain. I hate cancer with a burning passion. I was a huge jerk in high school. I was more worried about sports and social status than academics. I had friends from all social circles and picked on everyone equally.. I have since apologized to some of the people I used to make life miserable for. I have apologized to friends from High School in case I ever did anything to hurt our friendship or their feelings. I am a huge Three Stooges fan. I love baseball and the Detroit Tigers. I was a decent ball player in high school and was recruited by 8-9 schools. I still have some of the letters somewhere packed away. I turned down a scholarship to play at Adrian College because it was both too expensive even with the scholarship and my grades would've placed me immediately under academic probation.
Life is funny how it works out when you stop and think about it. Had I received even slightly better grades. I would've accepted said scholarship, went to Adrian, played baseball for 4 years, then who knows what. I would never had stayed local, went to L.C.C. and Great Lakes Christian College, started hanging out with my best friend who remains my best friend 20 years later, met Jill, had 4 boys, and end up where I am today. I would lie if I didn't wonder "what if". But I also know that my life wouldn't be nearly as good as it is today. I would have never made the core group of friends that I met at that wretched video store and am still in touch with and consider them all close friends today. I would've never got the chance to fulfill a dream by working in professional wrestling, let a lone do it for 12 years now.
Life is a funny thing... Stop for a minute and try to find your moment in life where if you had made a different decision your life today would be vastly different if not night and day different than it is. Share it with me here on my blog in the comments section or use that nifty Contact Me option on the right hand side.
I will have another blog up this week, this was kind of a spur of the moment deal. Be looking for it here here by Wednesday or Thursday. And keep sending me your ideas, comments, questions.
Until Next Time,
Be Well.....
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