Jul 28 2004

Dinner With 4

Published by gg at 5:35 pm under Uncategorized

I had an idea to do sort of a cross promotional blog post, where me and a couple other bloggers out there would have the same topic for our post, and then all post on the same day. It was great in concept, but I’m not sure everyone else has the time. Thus, I’ll do mine first, and if they decide to join, I’ll link them here.
 
The topic is simply a question. If you could invite 4 people past or present over to your house for dinner, who would they be and why?
 
First, since my list of possible candidates is fairly big, I wanted to give you an idea of who didn’t make this list.
 

  • Barry Bonds: Everyone who reads me or knows me, understands that I’m a huge Barry Bonds fan. However, I’d have to talk to this man over dinner, and he’s not the most interesting interview. After we get talking about Willie Mays, and his father, Bobby Bonds, what’s else to talk about? His co-starring r0le on Beverly Hills 90210 where he golfed against Steve Sanders?
     
  • Joe Montana and Jerry Rice: My two favorite 49ers of all time would be great choices, but I’m not sure we could chat about much other than football. I mean at least Barry was on 90210. And I don’t want Jerry leering at my wife.
     
  • Hulk Hogan, Stone Cold Steve Austin, The Rock, and Ric Flair: I love wrestling. Love it. Can’t get enough of it. And these four stars are four of the biggest ever. But then again, it could be this huge mass of testosterone, and while all four would have endless stories, I don’t think I’d be able to get deep inside their heads.
     
  • Stevie Wonder: If I could invite 5, he’s number 5. THE musical genius.
     
  • Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods: The two ultimate competitors right? The two guys who do their best to keep their images as clean as their Hanes (at least MJ anyway). But, I have a feeling, because they are so competitive, I wouldn’t be able to get any secrets out of them. I’d be dying trying to ask them questions and not getting solid, truthful, and daring answers.
     
  • Any family members: Because I don’t want to make this a sad post, I will avoid family.
     
  • Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence: I bet we’d have a blast, but there’s something about Martin’s irresponsible behavior, and Eddie’s love for transsexual feet that turns me off.
     
  • Bill Cosby: Twenty years ago, it would’ve been all about Cos. But he got bumped.
     
  • Muhammed Ali: If I didn’t feel so badly for making him come to dinner when he’d be more comfortable at home, he’d be on my list.
     

  Now we’re in business. You see who didn’t make the list. Now here’s who did.
 
I would imagine that it would be 7:00PM on a Friday night and the wife (with her and my mom’s help) would be making some sort of steak dinner. I’d help, but I’d be way too nervous, literally shaking at the thought that these four people were going to be at my house. I’d probably play with the kids just to shake off some of the nervousness, and play up the fact that they had to be good because these four people were coming over, and if they were good, they’d get to meet one of them specifically. But we’ll save that guy (or girl) for last. After I figured out that I couldn’t decide on one musical taste and had to play one of those boringly dreadful soft rock mix CD’s that you buy at the stores for occasions just like this, the door bell would ring. And who would be the first person to enter? None other than the author and editor of the world famous wrestling newsletter, The Wrestling Observer. Dave Meltzer is THE wrestling journalist of our time, and with that, he’d be my first guest. I’d sit Dave to my left, as I always envisioned myself as his right hand man. Whenever he needed me to report, or write a story, I’d be there, no sweat. And plus, whenever I’d get bored of the other three guys, I could always ask Dave, “so do you really think Steamboat vs. Flair was the best series of matches in the 90’s?” Who else can you ask that question to?

 


 
The Original BWalsh


 
After Dave and I got acquainted, the door bell would ring again, and none other than Brandon Walsh would step in the door. Other than the fact that he was a fictional character, Brando and I have a lot in common. We both were into Journalism, he of the print kind, and me of the broadcast kind. He was a big sports fan to the point of having a gambling addiction, and well, I’m just a big sports fan. And oh yeah, we’re both handsome. Anyway, Brandon was from Minnesota, home of Verne Gagne and the AWA, so I’m sure Dave would have something to talk about with him. Dave would probably ask him if he saw Hulk Hogan get over in Minnesota before he went to the WWF, and Brandon would probably proclaim that he was a huge Hulkamaniac. But really, talking wrestling with Brandon would be like asking Michael Jordan how it was to play golf. I don’t want to know about that. I want to know how he felt with Dylan scooped up on Kelly when he and Kelly were going so well. It’s my theory that if not for this episode where Kelly couldn’t choose between the two, she and Brandon would’ve gotten married, and he wouldn’t have left to Boston and make the last couple years of watching 90210 hell. And there wasn’t really a choice was there? I mean you had Brandon, who was the guy with the future, the rich parents, and the clean background. Well, he did drink and drive in the first or second season, but that’s beside the point. And then you had Dylan. Drug addict. Father embezzled money from him. Almost got Brenda pregnant. That enough should have been evidence. And what does Kelly do? She basically plays the game of who can do better. Dylan gives gifts. Brandon gives gifts. Brandon proposes. And what does Kelly do? She chooses neither. She chooses to be alone. She chooses herself. What a selfish chick. I would want to know the whole story, and how he could even think about marrying her after she did that to him.

 


 
A More Updated BWalsh


 
And at that moment, beauty would walk in the front door. Beauty in the name of Trish Stratus. More than any woman in the world, with the one exception being my wife, and on a bad day, the wife may even be excluded, I adore Trish. I remember first hearing about Trish on Dave’s Internet radio show on Eyada.com. Dave said she was a fitness model and that she would be debuting soon. I remember hearing how she was this big breasted blondie, who actually is a fan, and if she could get past her fear of speaking in front of an audience, she could actually be something. Well, let’s just say she’s done much better than anyone ever expected. She’s not only the top Diva in the WWE, but she’s also one of the better female wrestlers, and one of the fastest learners of her craft. Like any right minded male, I’d obviously try to chat with her and see if there was any chemistry, but then when my wife butted in to start talking to Trish as well, I’m sure that would all be gone. And by the end of the night, Brandon would have his new Kelly. Damn him! I’ll have to keep Dylan away.
 
 

 
Trish The Dish


 
Last but not least, the entertainment would arrive. The kids are big Michael Jackson fans. And before you start criticizing, they know nothing of the man today. They know the Michael Jackson of yester year. They love the music. They know that man looks much different today than he did yesterday, but they don’t care. With that being said, even though I know MJ has definite issues, I’m a fan. Not a fan boy, but still a fan. A big fan actually. Let’s just put it this way. My boys say that if they ever had a baby sister, they would want her name to be Janet. That big. And who wouldn’t want to see MJ in person, just singing, or dancing. It’s not like I’d want to have a long conversation with the guy, but I’d love for him to be able to show off in front of my kids, of course with a parental chaperone in tow. Actually, my wife might have to chaperone for all of us because I’d be first in line.
 
 

   
A Younger MJ


 
Imagine this. You’d have MJ performing a medley of hits. My kids are dancing together. I’m dancing with Trish, that is until Brandon bumps me out of the way. And then I guess I go dance with Dave Meltzer, I mean my wife. That might be the best night of all time.

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