Thursday Music, on a Friday?

I know it's Friday and I'm posting a Thursday Music song. I've been ill the past couple days and neglected Erik's Ramblings. I was a little busy drinking more orange juice yesterday than the state of Delaware consumes in a year.

As a child I was a huge fan of pro-wrestling. I would marvel at the skills displayed by Randy Macho Man Savage, the high flying antics of Jimmy Superfly Snuka, and the intensity of my favorite, the Ultimate Warrior. My friend Shawn and I would often mock the matches in the living room leading to various bruisings, but thankfully we didn't hurt each other permanently. His little brother was used to practice our body slam skills as we threw him on mattresses, couches, and most of the time he would land there. On one occasions I had him pressed over my head, a feat I was very proud of, but as I tossed him onto the bed he bounced off and broke the nightstand. We got in a lot of trouble for that.

The spectacle of the event was enough to engross any child. Wrestling had violence and hot women. What more could a boy ask for?

The highlight of the show was always the charismatic Hulk Hogan who back then was everywhere. Young boys believed there was not a finer American than the Hulkster. We watched him grapple with Andre the Giant, take down the Iron Sheik (who by the way was the greatest of all the politically incorrect characters), and preach to us the value of saying your prayers, working out, and taking your vitamins. He even had a cartoon show which I loved.

The WWF, as it was called back then, released a music album containing a mixture of original songs performed by wrestlers and various tracks of intro music. My parents bought it for me and for this I think they deserve sainthood. As I played the tape over and over again I could almost sense their hatred for every second that album polluted our house. I now believe that it alone contributed to Mom's ulcers and Dad's high blood pressure. Years later my mother told me about how every time I listened to it my Dad would mumble the 'f' word, a phrase he rarely used. To elicit such profanity really captured how much he hated it.

Being the good father he was he actually took me to wrestling matches live. The poor man. Mom never came for reasons that are obvious to anyone that knows her. The fact that both of them didn't engage in acts of infanticide is a true testament to their character.

On the album was Hulk Hogan's original entrance music before he was granted the Real American song. For those of you not in the know the Rick Derringer song was actually written for a tag team before it became the staple of Hulkamania. So take a trip down memory lane with me and pay tribute to an American hero.

"If I do hit that rope and do a hop, skip and a jump and get up as high as I can, I'm just going to hold my breath, because I know I'm going to hear all kinds of scar tissue popping." - Hulk Hogan