Wrestling With The Fishes
The following reflection was written in 2003, when I was between 25 and 26 years old.
In my youth I was a huge wrestling fan, but in the latter years of middle school and the first years of high school, as my friends grew out of it, so did I. Every once in a while I would pick up a wrestling magazine at the grocery store or at CVS to see what was going out. There were several times in college when I went to Blockbuster with the express purpose of picking up a Wrestlemania tape or something. Little did I know when circumstance would bring me into the home of the Fishes for the better part of the summer of 98 that I would find fellow wrestling fans.
It was Pa Fish and James (Angela’s boyfriend) who were into it. I think they dug WCW more than the WWF, which is what I was the bigger fan of. Regardless, it was cool to go over there on a Monday night and find them watching this crap that I thought no one watched anymore. Gradually, I began to renew my interest. I started to check out updates on the internet.
And wrestling wasn’t the only thing they exposed me to. Angela and her cousins and friends and everyone who was around there, they all subjected me to endless barrages of poppier and hip-hoppier music than I was used to. They broke me out of my musical-snob mindset, the one I’d slipped into during my days with the band and with “hipper” college friends, and they reminded me that I was a pop bubblegum whore at heart.
As much as I hated driving all the way from Chelmsford most nights (though I often drove right from my job at CMGI in Andover and that commute was better) I really enjoyed hanging out at the Fishes’ place that summer.