My favorite thing to do in the world was to play with my wrestlers in my closet, or sometimes in our living room for special events. I made up the story-lines and kept accurate history books. It was really a binder. Sometimes I used two rings during my own pay-pay-view events, and the living room gave me more space for the ring entrances. Sometimes I would keep the closet door open in case an uncensored brawl went from the ring to backstage or into the clothes; I'd close the closet door for the atmosphere of house shows.
My favorite place in the world was the videotape rental store two blocks up from our townhouse. Once a week, I would walk up to the store with my grandpa, and I could rent one wrestling pay-per-view tape; sometimes, my dad would take me. I liked to go with my grandpa, because my dad would always rush me; even when he thought he was being patient, he would hover over me, and I couldn't do my research properly. My grandpa would call Hulk Hogan, "Superstar," because of the WWF Superstars ice cream sandwich I would always pick out from the ice cream cart. One of our relatives drove an ice cream truck; he stayed with us when he was new to the country. One day, he tried to run my dad over with his ice cream truck. My mom called 911 as we watched from our balcony. The ice cream truck was really a van. My grandpa didn't know English, and would say the sound of the word, "Superstar," with the emphasis on the first r. He was a little taller than me, but a lot shorter than my dad. When my grandpa would come home from work, he would wrestle with me, and we would roll around on the carpet floor in our living room between the table and our TV. My dad made me go to Tae Kwon Do. Class was sometime early in the evening and wrestling was at 8 P.M.
When the program would advertise their house shows' date and time—where Hogan was finally going to take on Ric Flair—I would tell my family and we would turn to the program channel, and instead it would be, Murder, She Wrote, and I would start crying. My parents would search through the channels while I would sit there and sulk. I hated her and her stupid typewriter. I didn't understand what a house show was. I caught up with the story-lines by watching the videotapes of pay-per-view events that took place before we moved to this country. I saw the Ultimate Warrior beat Hulk Hogan at WrestleMania 7, and he was my favorite wrestler. I was fascinated by him because he was so mythical; but really, it was his look and intensity. His face was always brilliantly painted, and when he ran to the ring and shook the ropes, the beads wrapped around his arms would swing.
I watched WrestleMania 8 scrambled on my TV. I could make out some of the commentary—sometimes, I would see a foot or a maneuver, but couldn't tell who was winning. I was really excited when the Ultimate Warrior came out at the end to save Hogan from Sid Justice and Papa Shango. Then he disappeared again later in the year. Bret Hart became my favorite wrestler. And later during WrestleMania 10, when I heard Vince or Jim say Bret Hart had won the title on the scrambled pay-per-view channel, I was jumping around, but I couldn't make out how he managed to pin Yokozuna.
In the side of the video store, there was a secluded corner section with an, "Adults Only," sign that covered up pictures of naked men and women. I was always thinking about that section. Something about its presence scared me and I was always aware of that section when I went to get my wrestling tapes. My sister and I always had to close our eyes if there was a sex scene in a movie and my dad would start yelling at America if one went on for too long while we were watching TV.
One time, my cousin was staying with me from San Francisco. I always loved when we would visit his family, so I could hang out with him. I loved more when I knew they were coming, because we could hang out and watch wrestling and I could take him to the video store with me. One time when they were visiting for the weekend, at the end of the evening, they told me that he was going to spend the night with another one of his cousins and I was really dejected; they were going to have fun together and I was crying. I think my parents got mad at him because I was so excited thinking he was going to stay with me, and they saw how sad I was.
One time when my cousin was staying with me, we walked up to the video store and as I walked towards my wrestling aisle, I saw him walk into the "Adults Only" section, and a few moments later an Asian man walked in to escort him out. I was very eager and asked him why he walked in, and he said he didn't even notice it was the porno section until he walked in. I know he had time to see the naked men and women having sex before he was kicked out. It didn't seem to faze him and he just brushed it off.
I was staying with his family during WrestleMania 12—they had moved down near San Jose by this time—and when I got there I asked him who he wanted to win, Shawn Michaels or Bret Hart? He said, "Bret Hart, I guess." I pushed him back because I had become more of an HBK fan for awhile there, and he seemed irritated that I was aggressive with him. He was more of a basketball player than a wrestling fan.
One time we had a different kind of cable, and the Spice channel was also on our TV. I would watch it scrambled when my parents were asleep—sometimes, I could see a foot or a maneuver. The sound was just a buzzing, and when I could see a woman's face or figure in the bathtub, in the colored waves, she looked more like some alien cartoon freak zombie with dark or white robotic laser beam eyes, and the jumbled tones made her skin look artificial. More, the tone of her eyes and skin always contrasted to the extreme. One day I came home and there was some Armenian guy I didn't know messing around with our TV, and then we had more movie channels, and Ch. 99 required a four digit code. I came down one night while my parents were asleep, and pressed 0000, and the naked woman came alive on my TV. Some man started fucking her.
