You know you have one or twelve.
Guilty pleasures are by definition something you greatly enjoy, but are ashamed to at the same time.
That really covers a wide area. It could be your favorite book, tv show, restaurant, or even those pajamas you are wearing while reading this.
You love them, but you hide them as soon as someone comes over.
I think guilty pleasures should be a thing of the past. Minus your porn.
Go hide your porn collection, I am not judging you, but I just don’t want to see it. Be kinky, do your thing, I’ll watch Game of Thrones with you, but that’s about as far as it goes.
If something brings you joy, enjoy it. It may be weird and sometimes socially awkward, but you only live once, be happy.
I get that roaming main st in your favorite RompHim, crocs with socks, and that mile long beard will get you some looks, and I may make fun of you texting to a friend later, but if it makes you happy, so be it.
I thank God everyday that I never had the high, or low, fashion taste to keep up with today’s trends.
When I was younger, really young, my guilty pleasure was simple.
It was the only thing my father and I would sit and watch in silence, I loved that. Silence was golden at that time.
Let me remind you of what pro wrestling was back then.
It was cheesy, it was bright, and it was funny.
I was going to a very strict christian school, the strictest you could get without being catholic. Talking about wrestling was very not allowed, but three or four of us did it anyway.
The rest of the school, and teachers especially, mocked us and loved calling us names. So we stopped discussing it inside of school.
This was my first experience with something I enjoyed not being socially acceptable.
I kept watching as long as my father did. This was long before the internet was so popular, so I didn’t know it was staged.
We had the internet, that year long AOL dial up page screeching and screaming for a slow death, a solid twenty minutes for a page to load, just to end up in pop up purgatory. Back then, the internet was more of a research tool, small chat rooms here and there, but it wasn’t even close to the juggernaut that it is today.
I would watch wrestling with the same idea that I would boxing, that these people are actually fighting for a title or money, or what ever the case may be.
Those familiar with the sport know that the writers are good at making up reasons why two dudes need to fight.
When you see something like this as a child, you think it’s 100% real.
When I got older and learned more about it, I stopped watching because it was more about the drama than the skill. I was highly disappointed to find that all of the outcomes were predetermined and all championships were determined on backstage politics.
Sure it takes skill to throw a fake punch , sure it hurts when they fall, but its still one big production.
I watch a youtube video now and then, just so see if anyone I recognize is still around. I mean after all, our current president is in their hall of fame…cough cough…
It was nice when I was a child, now I find reading the biographies and books of the old wrestlers far more entertaining.
One of the older guys I really admire is Mick Foley, he has written several books for adults and children, but he spends his entire winter as santa, working for free, just to bring smiles to kids. He goes to Santa Claus Indiana, all of the hospitals around the area, and he just randomly pops in wherever he is, always for free.
These days my guilty pleasures are a bit more sane.
I actually had a hard time coming up with one when I started writing this piece.
The one I settled on was my choice of music. I really enjoy a certain group of singers, and I notice when I share this information with the general public, I often get laughs or weird looks.
The group is called Celtic Thunder.
The singers change off and on, I have my select few that I favor.
My favorite singer sadly passed not long ago, but I love his music the most.
Below I will link my favorite song of his, if you have a few minutes, take a listen.
I am more curious to hear about your guilty pleasures.
Share what you really enjoy, but doesn’t always receive a positive social reaction, or that you are ashamed to share.
Go ahead, I won’t tell anyone.
The Parting Glass, by George Donaldson.