Button Up: Memoirs of Disappointment

[Benjamin Button]

Button Up

Have a seat, son. I've made an excellent fire. Pay attention, and you will make good fires and chop your own wood. You will learn how real men survive. We kill our own food. We work hard, toiling the ground and chopping down trees. Nature is our bitch.


When I was your age, I knew these things. I was the kind of boy every father should want. I helped dad in his carpentry business. I worked from sun up to sun down. I didn’t own a video game, nor did I sit around the house like you. I was tanned and strapping. Yet my father never saw the best in me. Listen, my son.




Chapter 1 from Jack McGraw’s Memoir of Disappointments.


August 5th 1990


Madison Square Garden




I was seven and watching my first live WWF show from the best and worst seat in the house; the best seat because it was the front row and close to the action, the worst seat because I sat next to my father, forced to hear his snide remarks about wrestling being “gay”. Never mind seeing all my favorites like Jake the Snake and the Ultimate Warrior, something happened that night that would haunt me forever. It started when the Bushwhacker music hit.


Bushwhacker Luke’s hairy face and hands darted over the guard rail. He could have reached for any of the children around me, but he grabbed me. His tongue proceeded from his mouth. At first, I thought I wanted it. How many other kids could say they received the trademark licking from one of the Bushwhackers?


Then, he licked too vigorously and violently. I said “no.” He licked and licked and wouldn’t stop. He was hurting me. Dad was beside me, laughing. “You’re a natural queer, junior!” he was saying. With the might of a strong boy, I tried to push Luke away, but it was useless. He wouldn’t set me free. My face was red and getting wetter with Luke's saliva.


The camera turned away from us, and then Luke slid his tongue in my mouth. His tongue suffocated me, and his breath stunk like shit. I coughed as he let go. He winked, smirked, and turned. As he headed to the ring, I coughed more and spit wads. He had transformed a moment that I should have cherished into something that I felt too humiliated to share with anyone. Dad never let me forget it. He wouldn’t stop mocking me.


Don’t you mock me, too, son. I was a finer boy than you are. I knew how to make fires, fish, and live off the land. I was handsome and strong. I just suffered shame that instance. Consider your own embarrassment that is sure to happen. Wearing your John Cena hat and shirt and waving your hand over your face, you think you really are him. You’re mother is taking a picture of you. Soon, you will see the true moment that she captured. It won’t be Cena in the flash. It will be a seven year old queer. You with your hand waiving over your face, saying “you can’t see me”, soon you will see yourself in this Kodak travesty, and you will rip the picture to shreds. You’re arms are so skinny, your skin is so pale. You aren’t Cena. You’re the Dr. of Faggonomics.


What’s wrong? You want to be a man, boy? Watch me. Listen to me. Let me open my memoir up, again. Let me tell you the story of how a boy becomes a man.




Chapter 5 from Jack McGraw’s Memoir of Disappointments.


October 7nth, 1995


Bridgestone Park, McKinley Florida.




When we moved from New York to my dad’s small hometown, I have to brag that I adapted like a real man. Not only had I made new friends, I was a twelve year old champion about to pin my first fifteen year old hottie! It was just me, her, and the night. We explored the empty park, anticipating the next exploration, each other’s bodies. We held hands, walking, then running, then playfully pushing one another. We climbed to the top of the slide. Then, she stopped.


She ceased her smiling and playing; she stopped everything. Her expression suddenly becoming serious birthed butterflies into the pit of my stomach. I knew what she wanted. Her hand reached for my zipper. She reached in, grabbed it, and pulled it out of my pants. The grip of her hand, the cool breeze blowing on my free genitals, I lost control with her. Cops could come, but that just made it even more exciting. She climbed on me, and we slid to the ground. We were horny and filthier than the sand we rolled in. The stars and my memories could forever testify that she lay helpless and moaning underneath my manliness.


Twelve is such a young age to lose your virginity. This should have been something I could call upon and indulge my male ego in for years to come, but in a moment gone wrong, something changed inside me. As I kissed her and did her, she put her tongue in my mouth—the fucking tongue in the mouth. While paused, I saw him, that German bastard, Luke, licking my face and French kissing me. I felt him suffocating me with his fat tongue and hot shitty breath. I coughed wildly.


“Don’t let up!” she said. She forced me closer to her, just as Bushwhacker Luke had forced me.


“Fuck you.” I said aloud to Luke.


“That’s right! Fuck me! Keep fucking me!” she cried.


I paused, becoming aware of my surroundings. It wasn’t Luke forcing me; it was her desires hungering for me. She sighed. Her eyes seemed to somehow understand me. I looked up, appealing to nature. The stars twinkled with validation, telling me it was right to do her and to forget about the past.


My loyal lover never even questioned me; she just wanted more. I gave her more. I fought past Luke’s haunting me. I did her until she climaxed!


Ah, this would forever prove my manhood! This would be an honor nobody could steal from me! I fought through my horrendous flashbacks, and I won! This would be the crowing of a twelve year old champion! This would be a… this would be a goddamn lie. In days to come, one of my lover's closest confidants would tell me that the orgasm was fake. She was never, in her life, able to have a real one.



You scrawny seven year old John Cena mark, it is not for you, at this time, to know what an orgasm is. Nor is it for you to mock me. You will, one day, despise the Cena shirt you wear. You will, sooner than later, find out that wrestling is faker than her orgasm was.


Your personal Bushwhacker Luke is the internal warfare you face when it comes to believing in wrestling. There are things about wrestling that just don’t add up, so you’re starting to ask questions like “why would anyone go to the top turnbuckle in the middle of a fight? Why does John Cena stop kicking ass, just so he can play to the crowd then bounce off the ropes before dropping his fist? ”


But you hold on to your one reason to believe in wrestling, the rush of euphoria you get when John Cena wins. By the way, I saw you cry when he lost. You shamefully cried for something that wasn’t even real! But you think you need to believe in wrestling’s outcomes, whether they make you happy or sad.


In wrestling, bodies are bruised and men fall off ten foot ladders, but all you care about are the outcomes. That’s what you fight to believe in. All that air in your fat balloon of faith, you will have it popped out at a younger age than I was when I found out the truth about wrestling. There’s just too much more information out there today than there was in my youth. All your generation has to do is turn on Larry King to find out that wrestling is fake.


That is what you will do. You’ll tune into Larry King with the excitement of seeing John Cena appearing on something non-wrestling. Cena will sit by his on-screen enemy, Randy Orton, like they’re BBF’s, and they’ll casually tell you that wrestling outcomes are planned. You will find out that you’ve been happy and sad over this nonsense for nothing.


But you don’t believe me. Right now, you believe in wrestling. You take pleasure in Cena being the champ. Deep inside, you have to know that someday he will lose his title and your fragile heart will be broken, again. Men don’t cry, boy, especially over wrestling outcomes. You‘re a fag for crying, but you’re not without hope. What you need is a model that has faced his own letdowns and handled them like a man. You need me and my memoirs. Let me show you one last chapter. Let’s talk about a nineteen year old with murder in his heart.




Chapter 10 from Jack McGraw’s Memoir of Disappointments


March 8, 2002.


California




To passersby, Bushwhacker Luke’s house didn’t look much unlike the other houses in the suburbs, but the bricks and vinyl stood out to me. Maybe if things had turned out better for me, I wouldn’t have the gun tucked underneath my hoodie, about to use it to blow Luke’s brains out. Unshaven and standing determined on the sidewalk, gripping my gun, with my girlfriend standing a few feet back, I watched the cars driving up and down the street between me and Luke’s house. I trembled, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t let her see me cry.


She stood behind me, still a woman who was unable to orgasm for me or any man. Her soft voice broke the silence, as she said, “Is there anything else I can say to talk you out of this?”


“No.”


“Then, I—I must tell you something that you’re not ready for. I must tell you that—that you’re going to be a father, Jack!”


I didn’t flinch. I had prepared myself to be cold to any news, no matter the magnitude of it. I swallowed hard and turned my head, showing her half my face. I said, “And you’re going to raise the kid alone.”


I left the sidewalk and got to the middle of the street. The shocking news sunk deeper in my thoughts. I couldn't, for a minute longer, pretend that the fetus she carried meant nothing to me. I was stopped dead center in the middle of the road. Horns beeped at me; drivers swore. I was going to be a… I turned back to her and you—you were inside of her.


“A father?” I said to her, holding back the tears.


She nodded and smiled, with tears in her eyes.



Even tough guys get scared, but getting hitched and becoming a father didn’t turn out to be so bad. Your mother still fakes orgasms, but she’s such the stellar performer that sometimes I don’t believe she knows she’s pretending. When I use my imagination, her Emmy award winning performance fools me. It’s like the feeling of being 12 in the park all over again, before I ever knew she couldn't put out. I have to fight for that feeling, but that’s what men do. We fight! I tell myself that there is no such thing as fake. You’re mother’s orgasm in the park that night was a work.


As you know, I didn’t kill Luke. Guns are the playthings of the bad boys. Anybody can be a bad boy. That’s doing what comes easy. For the thousands of bad boys out there playing, there are only few good men working. I’ve manned up. I’ve taken responsibility. I no longer make Bushwhacker Luke the object of my resentment for my father's rejection of me. I make the most of things.


You will not be a little queer, forever, son. Your shoulders will broaden. You will become a man. A Wrestle-Mania will come, long after you’ve known that wresting is a work, where you are with your buddies. John Cena will be in the WWE Title match. Your friends will hate Cena for all the bad press the internet gives him. They will want nothing more than to see him lose or die. You will hide your great desire to see Cena win. You won’t know what the outcome will be. Even if it’s only a sneaking suspicion that Cena will lose or win, it will be enough for you to feel the suspense in the pit of your stomach. It will almost be like wrestling is real again.


That day will come, but for now, let me show you how to make a damn good fire. Pay attention this time.

[FutureDonkey]

The funny thing is, normally I have plenty to say, normally I can give out some criticism and, of course, take it as well, normally I'm able to say something--my thoughts, advice, adulation, whatever--but not this time.


You, sir, have succeeded in shutting me up.


You haven't beaten me, though, not by a long shot. I'll be back with something to say, and when I am...eh, whatever.


EDIT: I'm back now. This was brilliantly written and I, like everyone else I imagine, am thrilled to see that you haven't lost any of your proficiency by changing topics. You did a good job, Benji.

[Box Car Rocco]

I read your Column Announcement yesterday and I was excited for this. Let me just say that it didn't let me down one bit, every bit of it was fantastic. Your had your usual humour aswell as your magnificent ability to tell a story; the second last paragraph was simply brilliant too.

I did notice you spelt "waving" as "waiving" though. It didn't take away from the piece as we are all human.

[FreekyDeeky]

great read benji, i was worried that you wouldn'tbe able to keep up the pace after your brilliant WCW series but this was something completely different and you did really well.

read you next time

[Uncle Joe]

Good to see you didn't cool off after your series, although if I had to make one super nitpicky complaint, 'Dr. of Faggonomics' was meh, but it served it's purpose. This was funny, yet seemed to portray a bit of seriousness, bravo Benji.

[Freeman]

Nice follow up to your WCW series. After reading that for the past month, I forgot that you're actually pretty funny Benjie, as this made me laugh at times. It was different to the WCW stuff, but you kept a similar feel throughout and your writing style has become one of the best around here. Well done again.

[Super Chrisss]

If ANYTHING can top your WCW series, this might have been it. It was an emotional rollercoaster from start to finish and it was brilliantly written.

Keep the good stuff coming Benjie as you have just proven you're no one (or five) hit wonder!

[Benjamin Button]

Donkey-

like everyone else I imagine, am thrilled to see that you haven't lost any of your proficiency by changing topics.

We don't worry about trying new things here at Button Up, Mr. Donkey. A Series with each column building on one another was just part of the diversity.

BCR-

I read your Column Announcement yesterday and I was excited for this. Let me just say that it didn't let me down one bit, every bit of it was fantastic. Your had your usual humour aswell as your magnificent ability to tell a story; the second last paragraph was simply brilliant too.

I did notice you spelt "waving" as "waiving" though. It didn't take away from the piece as we are all human.

Good eye, BCR. I certainly am human. Glad this lived up to its hype for you!

Big Deek-



Joe-

Good to see you didn't cool off after your series, although if I had to make one super nitpicky complaint, 'Dr. of Faggonomics' was meh, but it served it's purpose.

Fair enough, Joe. I wouldn't have called Cena that as an insult. But to call a 7 yr old wannabe Cena that seemed to make for a passable line.

Freeman-

Nice follow up to your WCW series. After reading that for the past month, I forgot that you're actually pretty funny Benjie,

It feels good to explore more of my creativity and humour. Glad you liked it.

Chrisss-

If ANYTHING can top your WCW series, this might have been it. It was an emotional rollercoaster from start to finish and it was brilliantly written.

Why thank you, Chrisss. Topping myself is always my goal, and I was going for the up and down ride.

[Andy]

Wow, this was fantastic. Really top-class stuff which made me laugh whilst also enthralling me.

"October 7nth, 1995" was the only error I noticed, which says a lot.

[fenixx]

Dude, this was really well done. You have a way of evoking emotion, while still being humorous. I reckon the knocks on Cena were a bit overdone, but other than that it was sweet

Obviously, it would be mortifying to have a grown man's tongue inside one's mouth, but I didn't know what Bushwhacker Luke looked like. I Googled him. I'd rather be told more about my mother's lack of an orgasm rather than have that man's tongue going down my throat.

Great column though, don't let this streak of killer columns die out

[MyLeeCyrus]

This was absolutely cracking, though I think you should probably seek some sort of psychiatric help for the tongue-in-mouth bit. The ending (by which I mean the bit before "make a goddamn fire" was really, really nice; trés cool. Loved it, t'was wonderfully written.

[Benjamin Button]

Andy-

Wow, this was fantastic. Really top-class stuff which made me laugh whilst also enthralling me.

"October 7nth, 1995" was the only error I noticed, which says a lot.

Ah, Andy, I can't get anything past you. Even after a few proofreads I missed how bad I fucked up the dates, but I'm glad you found this praiseworthy

Obviously, it would be mortifying to have a grown man's tongue inside one's mouth, but I didn't know what Bushwhacker Luke looked like. I Googled him. I'd rather be told more about my mother's lack of an orgasm rather than have that man's tongue going down my throat

Having to choose between French kissing a Bushwhacker or to hear about your mother's inabilty to orgasm. What a predicament!

My Lee-

This was absolutely cracking, though I think you should probably seek some sort of psychiatric help for the tongue-in-mouth bit.

LOL. Yes, My Lee, I am quite insane.

[XanMan]

Excellent work here, my dear Benjamin, and I think it was brilliant of you to change pace from your WCW series. It shows a nice variety that a lot of writers(myself included?) don't have.