From Where I Sit

By Pat Spilseth, Columnist

Are you one of the unfortunates who have been gifted with sleepless nights? Last night was one of the doozies for me! Like Goldilocks, I went from all four beds and sofas in our house, trying each bed, only to find myself wide-awake, tossing and turning with agitated anxiety. I tried going through the alphabet, counting forwards and backwards, naming each state’s capital city, naming the countries I could remember… Nothing worked! I remained frustrated and awake, pacing the floors of our house.

I got out my iPad and put together puzzles, did solitaire, checked Facebook and the weather…nothing worked to put me to sleep though my eyes were no longer focusing.

Finally I turned on the TV, switching channels rapidly from mindless sales programs of useless household items to hell and brimstone preachers and car-chasing spy shows. My remote eventually settled on a new channel I’d never seen, wild women wrestling! To my surprise, I actually spent several minutes watching grunting women tossing each other and screaming.

I remember my friend Skip at our fall high school reunion, telling funny tales of his mom who had been a woman wrestler back in time before he was born. She and her brother performed in the Pope County area. I don’t remember if Skip said she continued to wrestle after she married his dad, a local attorney. What fascinating, humorous stories Skip has from his childhood in Glenwood. As a kid, he was fixated on being a detective solving crimes. His Mom went along with his ideas and bought the requisite trench coat every detective has to wear. Skip and his buddy Bob became sleuths investigating cases they thought were of interest in town. I never heard if they made any arrests or if they were hired by the police department or my dad, Sheriff DeKok.

Back to the women wrestlers…  Strutting down a mob-crowded theatre, which was probably liquored up and wildly cheering, came the stars of the wrestling match. Raucous viewers chanted encouragement for a buxom brunette in scanty form-fitting short shorts and sequined sparkly halter. The crowd was on her side against her opponent whom they jeered with disparaging comments.

From the opposite aisle came cheers and yells from another rowdy group of tanked up fans urging the weighty football-sized gal in black sequins and stretched body suit. Twice the size of the brunette, this football player center was a sure bet to win, or so I thought from my limited experience watching fighting gals. Little did I know how these wily women wrestlers performed in the ring. I’ve heard their shows are all staged; nobody is actually physically hurt.

The show was amazing! These wrestling women threw each other around like boulders crashing down a mountain..how do their bodies withstand such violent punishment?  Aren’t they bothered by the raucous crowds who jeer and taunt? They’re not like any women I know!

No matter how violent the gals were tossed against the beams of the ring and thrown violently out of the stage, after grunting and swooning, they emerged ready to continue the fight. How could their bodies endure such violence? These were Amazon women of amazing strength and fortitude!

The show had a subplot of two truck drivers with heavy Southern accents, a bleached blonde mom and daughter combo probably from Mississippi or Alabama,  giving a group of stranded glamorous women of the night a ride to the wrestling show. Out of cash, the babes needed to hitch a ride to the wrestling match. With two extra tickets to the wrestling match tucked in their leader’s bosom, they bargained to ride in the mom’s larger tow truck.

I viewed the gals fighting for several minutes, until the diminutive referee declared the smaller gal the winner, to my surprise. I’d had enough of the wild silliness. Turning off the TV, I crawled into the first bed I’d tried this evening, I must have slept a few hours and woke up at 6 a.m. still exhausted.   

I’ve  got to find a cure for these restless nights. Wrestling is exhausting! Any suggestions?

   

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To contact Pat, email: pat.spilseth@gmail.com.