Surely, most of us reading this paper today are familiar with Hulk Hogan, perhaps professional wrestling’s first mainstream mega star.
During his heyday of the late 1980s and 1990s, during what wrestling fans dub the “red and yellow” era, his arrival at an arena was met with that iconic first chord of “Real American.”
As fans in arenas across the globe would jump to their feet, the lyrics would burst out over the speakers:
When it comes crashing down and it hurts inside
You gotta take a stand, it don’t help to hide.
The song, written by Rick Derringer and Bernard Kenny, was never originally meant to be a wrestler’s entrance theme.
Nor is this column meant to be about wrestling.
Last Thursday night was the first night in recent memory where I had the night off.
No work. No sports for the kids. Nothing.
An ideal night to relax and do some much-needed work around the house.
I was outside cutting the lawn when I turned around to see my wife waving her arms at me from the front step. My oldest, who was playing hockey in the driveway, looked at me.
“Mom said something about ‘it came crashing down.’”
I got to the front porch, where I was informed that I was needed to help clean up a massive mess inside.
“I don’t know what happened, but it all came crashing down,” she said.
“What did?”
“The large cupboard in the kitchen.”
Talk about a big boot to the face, followed by a Hogan leg drop.
We’ve been in the process of renovating our kitchen for a few months now, and are in the home stretch of everything – waiting for the final piece of the counter top to arrive, painting, etc. – and new cupboards were a part of this reno.
One of our favourite additions has been a floor-to-ceiling cupboard. We’ve never had a proper pantry in the house, up until a couple of weeks ago.
I walked into the kitchen, and it looked like this pantry had vomited its contents all over the room.
I was gutted.
After a few moments of going through the stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance – and a few choice words, we got to work cleaning up.
A few minutes later, my much better half informed me she had to leave for a previous commitment, and asked if I would be OK cleaning up the mess.
I was, because as it says in “Real American” – I gotta be a man, I can’t let it slide.
Once the mess was cleaned up, I did what any son would do when he is faced with an unfamiliar problem – ask dad.
Dad came over to the house, sat back, and offered multiple solutions to my problem. Once we settled on one, we got to work implementing the solution.
Or, in wrestling terms, we “Hulked up” and made a comeback.
Thankfully, there was very little damage to the cupboard itself. The Swedes may make an affordable and durable cupboard, but it turns out they could learn a thing or two about bracing a cupboard that large.
We made the repairs and got the cupboard back in place.
No harm, no foul.
We successfully completed the comeback, “Hulked up,” got some help from outside, and gave that pantry the big boot and Hogan leg drop.
Hogan didn’t lose in the ‘80s and early ‘90s, and we didn’t lose (aside from a couple of broken plates) last Thursday.
And now all I can think of is that song…
When it comes crashing down and it hurts inside
You gotta take a stand, it don’t help to hide.
***
Mike Wilson is the editor of Midwestern Newspapers. In addition to being somewhat of a wordsmith, he fancies himself as a bit of a handyman (although this story would make you doubt that claim).
Comments and feedback are welcome at mwilson@midwesternnewspapers.com.
