Post by Dennis Driver on Oct 1, 2014 23:41:37 GMT
Dennis Driver: I don't know about you! But I'm feeling 22!
The camera points at a man leaving his Hartford apartment and singing the chorus to a hit Taylor Swift song, bobbing his head along with almost no sense of rhythm whatsoever.
Dennis Driver: Oh. Shit.
With his flannel shirt, skinny jeans and 5'7" stature, he's apparently going for the "midget hipster lumberjack" look.
Dennis Driver: Can we, like, do another one of these, bro?
He drapes his headphones around his neck. The camera zooms in a tiny bit and you can see that he's holding a floppy-haired bobblehead doll in his left hand.
Disembodied Female Voice: Haha. No. I like this one.
Dennis Driver: Jesus. Okay. Obviously everything's true and I'm signing up for the Revolutionary Wrestling Division, I'm gonna be on their first show this Sunday. And I don't know most of the people yet, but I'm super-stoked about having a steady job. I've been all over the place in just a couple months, I've been in Canada, I've been in Mexico where they put this beautiful face behind a mask if you can believe that, now I'm back in the States.
He pauses a bit, if only to catch his breath.
Dennis Driver: I was gonna say I'm home, but that won't be for long. I'm at home in the great state of Connecticut. The Land of Steady Habits. Where everyone has good teeth. Where no one flies a Confederate flag over their house. I've gotta go to Louisville or Knoxville or whatever sad southern town will have me, fighting weirdos for beer money! Jesus, take a look at some of those guys. But I'm not 22 anymore. I'm not models and bottles, I'm not some kind of star, I'm just another normal guy tryin' to get by in a crummy apartment. I could be waiting tables, I could be in an office, I could finish up my degree. But I'm here. You know why I'm here? If I squint hard enough, I can make believe I'm living the same dream. And the light's not out yet. The dream hasn't died.
Dennis pushes down on the bobblehead, which makes a jerky diagonal motion. The doll is Dennis as he was in 2011, the star player of Trenton, New Jersey's third division hockey team. Long hair and flair. The hockey career didn't work out in the end, but at least he made it far enough to get a couple little trinkets.
Dennis Driver: It's October now. October means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. Maybe it's the change of seasons, the leaves coming down. Maybe you get to pick out your Halloween costume, some of those dudes in the RWD locker room look like they already have. For me, it's another hockey season that I'm not gonna be a part of. Thirty NHL cities and I'm watching it all on television and fighting the big ol' 40-year-old virgin in Tennessee.
Dennis seems proud of himself for remembering the name of a movie.
Dennis Driver: I still see it, I still hear it right now. 'Driver doesn't have the will to win. He doesn't have any heart. He's gutless.' I had to hear that for years and years. But I've been traveling, I've been living, I've been trying new things. Of course I made some wrong turns, but that's what happens when you live your life. The guy I'm fighting has been doing jack shit for forty years. Ray Harlan, I bet you're bigger and stronger than me. But I've been smaller and weaker and faster and smarter and better than people my entire life. And after you face off against the most talented athlete in the wrestling business today, you'll be scared of living your life for another forty years!
Dennis starts to breathe deeply, squeezing the bobblehead doll against his chest. The camera, which is clearly not being guided by professional hands, zooms out a little, giving us a backdrop of cheap Hartford apartments.
Disembodied Female Voice: Wheeew. You sound mad, man.
Dennis Driver: Let's go get some burritos.
Disembodied Female Voice: Totally!
The camera points at a man leaving his Hartford apartment and singing the chorus to a hit Taylor Swift song, bobbing his head along with almost no sense of rhythm whatsoever.
Dennis Driver: Oh. Shit.
With his flannel shirt, skinny jeans and 5'7" stature, he's apparently going for the "midget hipster lumberjack" look.
Dennis Driver: Can we, like, do another one of these, bro?
He drapes his headphones around his neck. The camera zooms in a tiny bit and you can see that he's holding a floppy-haired bobblehead doll in his left hand.
Disembodied Female Voice: Haha. No. I like this one.
Dennis Driver: Jesus. Okay. Obviously everything's true and I'm signing up for the Revolutionary Wrestling Division, I'm gonna be on their first show this Sunday. And I don't know most of the people yet, but I'm super-stoked about having a steady job. I've been all over the place in just a couple months, I've been in Canada, I've been in Mexico where they put this beautiful face behind a mask if you can believe that, now I'm back in the States.
He pauses a bit, if only to catch his breath.
Dennis Driver: I was gonna say I'm home, but that won't be for long. I'm at home in the great state of Connecticut. The Land of Steady Habits. Where everyone has good teeth. Where no one flies a Confederate flag over their house. I've gotta go to Louisville or Knoxville or whatever sad southern town will have me, fighting weirdos for beer money! Jesus, take a look at some of those guys. But I'm not 22 anymore. I'm not models and bottles, I'm not some kind of star, I'm just another normal guy tryin' to get by in a crummy apartment. I could be waiting tables, I could be in an office, I could finish up my degree. But I'm here. You know why I'm here? If I squint hard enough, I can make believe I'm living the same dream. And the light's not out yet. The dream hasn't died.
Dennis pushes down on the bobblehead, which makes a jerky diagonal motion. The doll is Dennis as he was in 2011, the star player of Trenton, New Jersey's third division hockey team. Long hair and flair. The hockey career didn't work out in the end, but at least he made it far enough to get a couple little trinkets.
Dennis Driver: It's October now. October means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. Maybe it's the change of seasons, the leaves coming down. Maybe you get to pick out your Halloween costume, some of those dudes in the RWD locker room look like they already have. For me, it's another hockey season that I'm not gonna be a part of. Thirty NHL cities and I'm watching it all on television and fighting the big ol' 40-year-old virgin in Tennessee.
Dennis seems proud of himself for remembering the name of a movie.
Dennis Driver: I still see it, I still hear it right now. 'Driver doesn't have the will to win. He doesn't have any heart. He's gutless.' I had to hear that for years and years. But I've been traveling, I've been living, I've been trying new things. Of course I made some wrong turns, but that's what happens when you live your life. The guy I'm fighting has been doing jack shit for forty years. Ray Harlan, I bet you're bigger and stronger than me. But I've been smaller and weaker and faster and smarter and better than people my entire life. And after you face off against the most talented athlete in the wrestling business today, you'll be scared of living your life for another forty years!
Dennis starts to breathe deeply, squeezing the bobblehead doll against his chest. The camera, which is clearly not being guided by professional hands, zooms out a little, giving us a backdrop of cheap Hartford apartments.
Disembodied Female Voice: Wheeew. You sound mad, man.
Dennis Driver: Let's go get some burritos.
Disembodied Female Voice: Totally!
so quickly so sad!
