Smackdown!

Hubby and I took The Boy downtown to Philips Arena on Monday night to see the WWE (for those of you that DON'T have 7 year old boys, that's World Wrestling Entertainment.)

I remember watching grainy wrestling on TV back in the 70s. Andre the Giant and Dusty Rhodes, The American Dream . . . those guys paved the way for what is the majesty of the modern WWE. These days, wrestling is a slick, packaged, professionally choreographed high dollar business, son. Walking in, we saw that the arena was ringed with huge RVs wrapped with glossy slick images of all of the wrestlers, flanked by caravans of Lincoln Navigators and limos.

The stage show rivaled anything I had ever seen, concert-wise. Pyrotechnics, jumbotrons, marquee lights running around the packed stadium.

A thing of beauty.

The boy was stunned by it all. It's one thing to have all of this on the television screen at home, and its quite another to have it there in front of you.

When the majesty was over, we were able to pick up some swag (t-shirt, John Cena dogtags and Hornswaggle green hat). Even THAT process was slick! Orderly lines, throngs of merch, credit card machines at the ready.

You know what the best part was, though? I was seated comfortably in my seat before I realized that I had sprung from the car, walked across the highway to the auditorium, walked to our portal, climbed the stairs, and hadn't even breathed hard. I was actually sitting in public seating with room to spare on each side. I can't remember the last time that happened.

Awesome. Oh, and go Rey Mysterio!