Monday, February 21, 2005

Dwayne Johnson

In my ongoing effort to catalog the assortment of Things They Didn't Tell You Were Going to Happen to You as You Get Older, I'm about to list another one, for the record, here. Apparently, someone neglected to inform me that, upon turning twenty-six, you discover that you really, really love The Rock.

I've known for at least several years now that I've harbored a latent affection for the man, and even despite today's realization, I still enjoy him more as a concept than anything else (which is my roundabout way of saying I don't watch professional wrestling and haven't seen any of his movies), but there was just an undeniable amount of Rock-centric synergy this weekend.

First, the card.

The Great Benji Kelnardo gave me this card for my birthday. (Note the little bit of chocolately fingerprint on the right side. You just know some spazzed-out kid grabbed the card in the store and was waving it around screaming "The Rock! The Rock!" before his mom made him put it back. Gross, but kind of perfect.) My spontaneous, drunken reaction was one of pure glee. I was so delighted when I opened the envelope that I shrieked and laughed almost to the point of tears.

Ben, unaware the card would provoke this response (he was just banking on your average hipsterrific ironic appreciation), then played Wyclef's
It Doesn't Matter
for me, which, it turns out, is like the fucking hottest song I've heard in ages. The Rock screaming "it doesn't matter!!!" every few bars only made it that much better.

Then, I finally had a chance to see the preview for Be Cool on Sunday afternoon, and later read in the just-delivered February 25th issue of Entertainment Weekly what Mr. Johnson himself had to say about his part in the film: "For me, it was an opportunity to play a role where, number one, I could be fearless and take on the challenge. . . . I thought it was cool to play someone who was not only gay but a proud gay man."

As a twenty-six year old woman, am I continuing to grow more fully into the twelve-year-old-boy part of my personality? Perhaps I'm merely more aware of it (to use the phrase M.O. and I found ourselves going back to rather frequently during other discussions over the course of this last weekend). But, gee, you know, I feel just that much better about my life today. There's a peacefulness, a calm, that comes with being able to admit that I think The Rock is just about the coolest thing in the world.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You don't really achieve the fullness of your 12-year-old boy self until you're a 45-year-old woman. I'm just saying.