Yesterday was a good day -- quality time shopping and lunching with my sister. $21 and a handful of change at Forever XXI = two dresses, two pairs of super cute underwear, a skirt and an incredibly cozy sweater. Gotta love the summer sales. For lunch, we headed to Buca di Beppo. The balsamic vinegar there is divine. I should have stolen a bottle so I could bring it home and splash it over some strawberries and basil (if you've never had this, you're missing out. It's delicious!)
Today was a better day -- The Boyfriend became an uncle again and my parents and sister finally got their green card! After fifteen years, they're finally on their way to citizenship. As for me? Uhh...I'll get back to you on that.
In other news, I'm fairly sure that God is sending a plague of creepy crawlies into my life. A couple of days ago, I found a scorpion (!!) in my room and yesterday, Mom found a snake hiding behind the TV. I feel like I'm living in the Bug House exhibit at the Science Museum
Random nonsense aside, there was something I wanted to discuss.
Earlier this week, professional wrestler Chris Benoit, his wife Nancy and their seven-year-old son Daniel were found dead in Benoit's Atlanta home.
I'm not a wrestling fan in the classic sense of the word. I've never been to a live event, I don't own any paraphernalia nor do I subscribe doggedly to the notion that it's really real and that the Undertaker has risen from the dead countless times. But, I've been watching pro-wrestling since its golden era in the 80s and although I don't really watch it anymore and couldn't tell you who hold what title or which two wrestlers are currently embroiled in a bitter rivalry, I like to keep an ear out for backstage rumblings.
The initial news came as a shock and when it was discovered that Benoit had strangled his wife, smothered his son and hanged himself -- I was completely dumbfounded.
Chris Benoit was a workhorse. A quiet man with very little of the bravado, bluster and magnetic flair associated with most pro-wrestlers, Benoit got into the ring, he did his job and then, disappeared backstage. Reticent and boring, yes, but a cold-blooded killer? That's something that I can't wrap my mind around.
I keep trying to figure it out -- what would drive a man to commit such an ungodly act? There are no justifications, no rhyme, no reason. Just conjecture.
'Roid Rage (or steroid withdrawal, for that matter) coupled with the stress of working for the WWE (the near Spartan brutality the wrestlers put their bodies through night after night, the exhausting travel schedule, months away from family), strained family relations and a history of cranial damage (one of Benoit's signature moves was a swan dive -- essentially, a headbutt executed from the top rope of the ring) may have pushed Benoit to his snapping point.
Does any of this excuse the carnage enacted on the Benoit family? No. Of course not, but it may provide a window into Chris Benoit's madness and hopefully, this tragedy will serve as a catalyst for the WWE to look into their absolutely deplorable policy regarding the abuse of anabolic steroids.
Steroid abuse has been a part of the pro-wrestling industry for years. Not only do steroids allow wrestlers to bulk up to Hulk-like proportions, but also give them the edge they need to maintain the company's exhausting tour schedule. In 1994, Vince McMahon (head honcho of the WWE) was put on trial for allegedly distributing steroids to his talent. Although McMahon was exonerated of all charges and swore to put a comprehensive drug-testing plan into effect, steroid abuse runs rampant within the company to this day and the company, horrifically enough, allows it.
Roided-up wrestlers have a bigger, more imposing physique which always plays well in the gladiator games of pro-wrestling. Steroids help them deal with the grind of working house show after house show for 200+ days a year, thus bringing in the ducats for the corporation.
But at what point does the health of an individual become more important than profit margins? In the past decade, dozens of pro-wrestlers have died due to steroid-related cardiac problems -- Eddie Guerrero, British Bulldog Davie Boy Smith, Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Perfect Curt Henning to name a few -- what does it take and how many more have to die before the WWE realizes what a heavy toll this lifestyle is taking on its employees, both physically and psychologically?
Will this tragedy bring about a change? Sadly, I doubt it will, but here's to hoping I'm wrong.
Today was a better day -- The Boyfriend became an uncle again and my parents and sister finally got their green card! After fifteen years, they're finally on their way to citizenship. As for me? Uhh...I'll get back to you on that.
In other news, I'm fairly sure that God is sending a plague of creepy crawlies into my life. A couple of days ago, I found a scorpion (!!) in my room and yesterday, Mom found a snake hiding behind the TV. I feel like I'm living in the Bug House exhibit at the Science Museum
Random nonsense aside, there was something I wanted to discuss.
Earlier this week, professional wrestler Chris Benoit, his wife Nancy and their seven-year-old son Daniel were found dead in Benoit's Atlanta home.
I'm not a wrestling fan in the classic sense of the word. I've never been to a live event, I don't own any paraphernalia nor do I subscribe doggedly to the notion that it's really real and that the Undertaker has risen from the dead countless times. But, I've been watching pro-wrestling since its golden era in the 80s and although I don't really watch it anymore and couldn't tell you who hold what title or which two wrestlers are currently embroiled in a bitter rivalry, I like to keep an ear out for backstage rumblings.
The initial news came as a shock and when it was discovered that Benoit had strangled his wife, smothered his son and hanged himself -- I was completely dumbfounded.
Chris Benoit was a workhorse. A quiet man with very little of the bravado, bluster and magnetic flair associated with most pro-wrestlers, Benoit got into the ring, he did his job and then, disappeared backstage. Reticent and boring, yes, but a cold-blooded killer? That's something that I can't wrap my mind around.
I keep trying to figure it out -- what would drive a man to commit such an ungodly act? There are no justifications, no rhyme, no reason. Just conjecture.
'Roid Rage (or steroid withdrawal, for that matter) coupled with the stress of working for the WWE (the near Spartan brutality the wrestlers put their bodies through night after night, the exhausting travel schedule, months away from family), strained family relations and a history of cranial damage (one of Benoit's signature moves was a swan dive -- essentially, a headbutt executed from the top rope of the ring) may have pushed Benoit to his snapping point.
Does any of this excuse the carnage enacted on the Benoit family? No. Of course not, but it may provide a window into Chris Benoit's madness and hopefully, this tragedy will serve as a catalyst for the WWE to look into their absolutely deplorable policy regarding the abuse of anabolic steroids.
Steroid abuse has been a part of the pro-wrestling industry for years. Not only do steroids allow wrestlers to bulk up to Hulk-like proportions, but also give them the edge they need to maintain the company's exhausting tour schedule. In 1994, Vince McMahon (head honcho of the WWE) was put on trial for allegedly distributing steroids to his talent. Although McMahon was exonerated of all charges and swore to put a comprehensive drug-testing plan into effect, steroid abuse runs rampant within the company to this day and the company, horrifically enough, allows it.
Roided-up wrestlers have a bigger, more imposing physique which always plays well in the gladiator games of pro-wrestling. Steroids help them deal with the grind of working house show after house show for 200+ days a year, thus bringing in the ducats for the corporation.
But at what point does the health of an individual become more important than profit margins? In the past decade, dozens of pro-wrestlers have died due to steroid-related cardiac problems -- Eddie Guerrero, British Bulldog Davie Boy Smith, Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Perfect Curt Henning to name a few -- what does it take and how many more have to die before the WWE realizes what a heavy toll this lifestyle is taking on its employees, both physically and psychologically?
Will this tragedy bring about a change? Sadly, I doubt it will, but here's to hoping I'm wrong.
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