My community TV channel is the soundtrack of my life. It is a Thursday evening. I am doing weekly scheduling and other core administrative tasks. Like the blue penguin mascot that is our station's metaphor, we gather in small groups, mostly at night, in communal activities. The door buzzer frequently rings for several minutes. The cast of characters for the show Center Ring is arriving. Some are familiar with the station and others need affirmation that they are in the right place to be Fogman's guests. My smartphone pings with social media check-ins as well.
Then, the din of my busy is cracked open with the ringing of bells. The sound is too familiar, even to me. At 7:30 PM, our channel is 'LIVE' in the virtual world. In the world of Independent Wrestling, one of their own has passed. R.I.P., along with a montage of promotional pics from throughout the years, fills the television that monitors our channel. I am not a viewer of this 25-years and counting show, but I know this all too familiar sound.
It is Monday at 8:00 PM a full eleven days later. I hear the ringmaster bells. I immediately think Damn. I assume in all my busy I mistakenly ingested the Center Ring replay to the schedule in the wrong week. I quickly realize it is not my mistake. This world that I support but do not know is one continuous narrative about the exotic often short lives of bravado entertainers who tease and body slam before cheering fans across the globe. In two consecutive weeks, they salute and remember.
Dedicated to Fogman and the Commander and all who Rest In Peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment