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At Large Opinion

Welcome to Hell

Sometimes I stare in space

Tears all over my face

I can’t explain it, don’t understand it

I ain’t never felt like this before

Now that funny feeling has me amazed

Don’t know what to do, my head’s in a haze …

Just like a heat wave

Burning right here in my heart

— Holland-Dozier-Holland

It’s 8:30 on Saturday morning at Tobey Dog Park. Many of the regulars and their mutts are here. The humans, maybe nine of them, are gathered in the shade of the one appreciable tree. The dogs, maybe 14 of them, make brief forays out into the burnt-grass hellscape to chase a ball or wrestle or dry-hump each other or poop, but soon return to the shade. They are not stupid creatures. Neither are the humans, who don’t even try to wrestle or dry-hump each other or poop. They just stay in the shade and commiserate.

It’s the third or fourth week without rain in Memphis. No one here in the shade can remember the last time water fell from the sky. We all agree it’s been at least 10 days since the daily high temperature was less than 98 degrees, with many days reaching triple digits. On Friday, the day before my trek to the dog park, Memphis registered the highest “feels like” temperature in the United States — a balmy 114 degrees.

What the hell, y’all?

At our house, we have closed every curtain, shutter, and window blind. All the ceiling fans are turning at warp speed. We keep the lights off during the day. We open and shut exterior doors quickly so the satanic heat can’t get in. We’re now living in a dark bat cave just so our air-conditioning can keep up. Sort of. When it’s 114 outside, we consider an interior high of 76 degrees a victory.

If it’s any comfort (and no, it’s not) we’re not alone. Heat waves have been happening all over the Northern Hemisphere this summer — in Spain, France, India, the Middle East, parts of Africa, and elsewhere, leading to the usual attendant miseries of drought and crop failure. And also to forest fires like those that have ravaged the Western U.S. this year — where they’re running out of water because it doesn’t snow enough anymore.

At least we’ve got water in Memphis. For now. Unless Governor Lee decides to privatize the Memphis Sand Aquifer. Which I wouldn’t rule out.

The world’s legitimate scientists have long moved past debating whether climate change exists or even whether our addiction to greenhouse gases is the cause. In a recent New York Times story, some scientists said that the current trend to longer and more frequent heat waves renders the question obsolete. The climate has changed, and we’re going to have to deal with the consequences. Why argue about the obvious?

In the same Times article, climate scientist Andrew Dessler said, “The warming of recent decades has already made it hard for scientists to know what to call a heat wave and what to treat as simply a ‘new normal’ for hot weather. … As time goes on, more and more of the planet will be experiencing those temperatures, until eventually, with enough global warming, every land area in the mid-latitude Northern Hemisphere would be above 100 degrees.”

If this is the new normal, then summer is the new hell. And it’s not like we don’t have a few other things to worry about these days, including a major political party that can’t kick its addiction to a delusional con man, a country that can’t keep its young men from randomly gunning down dozens of strangers, and a Supreme Court apparently made up of faith healers, gun nuts, and (probably) climate-change deniers.

Where to turn? It all feels new and not at all normal. I would say we’re all going to hell in a handbasket, but it appears we may have already arrived. Which begs the question: Can you get out of hell in a handbasket?

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Memphis Heat

The furor over the future of the Mid-South Coliseum has been one of Memphis’ defining civic kerfuffles of the decade. Over its five-decade history, it has been the venue for concerts by the likes of Elvis, the Beatles, and David Bowie, as well as Tiger basketball games and graduations. But the thing the Coliseum is the most famous for is not Elvis Recorded Live on Stage in Memphis. It’s wrestling. Throughout the 1970s, the round house was the site of epic weekly battles between the likes of Tojo Yamamoto, Bill Dundee, and the King himself, Jerry Lawler. Their images went out over the airwaves to millions of households all over the South and Midwest and made folk heroes and villains out of an unlikely cast of characters.

In 1974, Sherman Willmott came to Memphis from Connecticut as an impressionable child, only to discover the joys of TV wrestling. “When we moved here, my sister and I had never seen anything like it,” he says. “We watched cartoons, and then afterwards wrestling came on. Our minds were blown. My sister was crying and screaming because George Barnes and Bill Dundee had put Tojo in the ropes, and one of the guys from Australia — Barnes and Dundee were from Australia — was jumping off the top rope of the ring and hitting Tojo with a chair. We couldn’t believe the referee would let this go on.”

From that moment on, Willmott would be a fan of what he calls “soap opera for the working man.” Professional wrestling was already a national phenomenon in the 1970s, and Memphis was the closest thing there was a national capital for the “sport.” “Lawler is particularly talented with ring technique,” Willmott says. “These guys are so good they don’t even look like they’re working an act. That’s what made it so believable.”

Hulk Hogan

In the 1990s, Willmott founded Shangri-La Records, which brought Memphis alternative music into the national spotlight. His Shangri-La Projects label has produced books on Memphis history, many with local author Ron Hall. “After we did the Garage Rock Yearbook, he threw this thing out to me that he was working on a coffee table book on wrestling. I went to his house to check out the pictures he had acquired, and the ephemera and the ads for the book, and it blew my mind. Ron had grown up here in the 1960s in Memphis as a fan of Billy Wicks and Sputnik Monroe and these guys who were before my time here in Memphis. Growing up with wrestling here in Memphis was awesome. It was a fun little book project to do. Ron brought the ’60s feel to the book project, which was a lot different from the ’70s. In the 1970s, they started doing the music and the more outrageous stuff like scaffolding matches, that originated here in Memphis. They would tie people into the ring with chain-link fences and things like that. The book project was just a fun deal, and I thought maybe we should promote it with a documentary to get the word out. I looked around for people to work on the film, and called Chad Schaffler, because I knew he was a filmmaker, and he was working on a Good Luck Dark Star video at the time. I called and asked if he knew anyone who would like to work on a low-budget documentary, and he said ‘Yeah, me!’ It worked out great. Chad took the ball and ran with it. He tracked down a lot of these guys. We didn’t even know who was alive at the time. We had a punch list of people we wanted to interview, and he found most of them. We got the Coliseum opened through the film commission, and interviewed a bunch of them at once. Lawler was one of the guys we interviewed, and he opened up his little book of phone numbers and shared that with Chad. He tracked down a number of these guys in Nashville and North Carolina. Handsome Jimmy Valiant was in West Virginia.”

Released in 2011, Memphis Heat had a successful four-week run at Studio on the Square. “We knew it was a great film, with great subject matter, but we didn’t really know where it would go. We toured it through the South in movie theaters, and that went really good in Memphis, Nashville, and Atlanta. It’s such a huge learning curve to do something like that when you’re starting out with a $5,000 budget documentary. It got the word out. Even if people didn’t get out to see it, it helped build awareness for the film.”

This week, on the fifth anniversary of the film’s opening, Memphis Heat will return for an encore screening at the Malco Paradiso in conjunction with the release of its soundtrack album, produced by Doug Easley and featuring the River City Tanlines. It’s a good chance to get caught up on a unique bit of the city’s history, with a great piece of Memphis filmmaking.

Categories
News News Feature

Memphis Heat Redux

Memphis’ Wild Fire Wrestling is hosting “Long Live The King,” to celebrate the life and career of King Jerry Lawler, the man whose name is synonymous with Memphis wrestling. In addition to a meet-and-greet, the house will be full of local legends, including Handsome Jimmy Valiant, Superstar Bill Dundee, Brian “Grand Master Sexay” Christopher, The Rock ‘n’ Roll Express, Koko B. Ware, and other Saturday morning  favorites.

Best of all, perhaps, this event reunites wrestling commentators Dave Brown and the great 88-year-old Lance Russell.

Russell, a longtime program manager for WHBQ and one of the most beloved wrestling commentators in the history of sports entertainment, talked to the Flyer about King Lawler, Memphis wrestling, and playing himself in Man on the Moon.

Memphis Flyer: You and Dave Brown were the eye of this colorful, chaotic storm. Calling wrestling like it was any other sport during the glory days of Jackie Fargo, Tojo Yamamoto, and Jerry “The King” Lawler vs. Andy “the clown” Kaufman. Can you even go a day without talking to somebody about wrestling?  

Russell: Well, it’s easier down here [in Florida] than it was when I lived in Memphis. When I wasn’t talking in person to some fan about wrestling, I was talking on the telephone. Somebody was always calling. You know, people say, “Boy, whatever happened to the good old days of Memphis wrestling?” Well, I can tell you Memphis wrestling is just as alive as it ever has been.

You’d be the one to know.

My son was looking at his computer a couple of nights ago and found where somebody had made a list of people who were involved in wrestling as promoters or wrestlers or managers or referees and even announcers. And they have them ranked by age. My son said, “Did you realize that in the United States you are the fifth oldest person involved in wrestling that is still alive?” When I got up the next day I said to my son, outside of wanting to kill you, I was amused all night long. I didn’t sleep, but I was amused.

I suspect that makes you a go-to

resource, having seen wrestlers from so many territories and having also worked for Turner Broadcasting.

I can tell you as a director of programming for WHBQ in Memphis for all of those years, I’m not proud of the fact that I didn’t put an edict out that there will be no erasing of tapes from Talent Party or wrestling or any of those kinds of things. We erased everything. And sometimes we would record on the same tape two weeks in a row. We kept telling ourselves we were saving money.

You know Vince McMahon is getting ready to program Memphis wrestling on the network he started so he’s trying to pin down all the programs. And, in Memphis, everything we ever had in terms of tapes is all just blasted asunder. Jerry Lawler ended up with the biggest quantity of tapes. Jimmy Hart, a wrestler and wrestling manager who worked with Vince McMahon in New York after he left Memphis, ended up with a lot of tapes. People pay good money for them too, and now Vince McMahon wants to broadcast Memphis wrestling every day.

Why are people still fascinated with Memphis wrestling?

I’m gonna tell you, Memphis was absolutely totally different than any territory in the country. I eventually went with Turner Broadcasting, and when I went there and I ran into guys from the East Coast and West Coast they’d say, “All you clowns in Memphis spend more time making jokes than anything else.” And we did, because it made people happy. They were tickled to death to look forward to some of the foolishness that went on. And we were proud of it. It was good entertainment.

You and Dave Brown had great chemistry.

What made Dave and I different was the programming. The different matches that we booked. The different characters that were made up. Like Kamala the Giant, who is from right down in Mississippi and was very popular all over the country. I hired Dave to work in television. Dave was an all-night radio jock for WHBQ, and I knew him as a person and liked him very much. Anyhow, he questioned wrestling. I said, “Man, if you want to work in television, you will learn more in two months of wrestling than two years of anything else.” So he took a chance, and he was great. Dave and I also agreed on one thing you never talk about in wrestling. See, I was a wrestling fan, and I had been ever since the days when I grew up in Dayton, Ohio and worked in the auditorium as an usher. I never wanted anybody to say to me, “Hey, I’m going to win in the third fall on this match.” I don’t want to be a stiff actor saying some lines, I wanted to call things as I saw them in my face for the first time.

No matter how over the top it was, it was completely alive. Anything could happen.

We had great matches too. But in the meantime, we didn’t mind tickling your funny bone. We’d have a guy or a gal shaved bald right there in the middle of the ring.

I thought I was going to get killed one night in the Memphis Coliseum, when Jerry Lawler put up his hair and Bill Dundee put up his wife’s hair and Dundee lost. We had our own barber who was there to cut hair when necessary. He thought he was going to be killed. The crowd was incensed that Lawler had cheated to win and this vivacious young redhead was losing her hair. It’s hilarious when you stop and think about a situation getting that serious over what was actually a very funny incident.

But that’s the Memphis audience, right? It’s why the famous Lawler/Kaufman feud couldn’t have happened anywhere else.

You’re right about that. There was a kind of audience reaction that we had cultivated either on purpose or unknowingly. And this is the thing that attracted Andy Kaufman. As a kid, Andy would watch wrestling and he would see the bad guy: Just by raising his hand he could get this big reaction from the crowd. That power that wrestlers held captivated him, and he initially tried to get the attention of Vince McMahon’s father and his grandfather who, in addition to promoting boxing, also promoted wrestling. They said “What are you trying to do, make a joke out of wrestling?” Well, Andy ran across a guy who worked for the wrestling magazines and he said to check out the guys in Memphis, who will do anything. And they’re great show people.

Even if the outcomes are known, this is unscripted stuff.

I got a big guy from Canada supposedly. He comes out there [to interview] and he says, “Jerry Lawler! I’m going to get him! I’m taking a blood oath!” And I’m the program director at WHBQ, so I say, “No, I don’t want any blood. Don’t be busting his eye open on television. We don’t want our audience to have to put up with that.” And this idiot has got one of these big double-headed axes, and he runs the blade down his massive arm and I’m sitting here looking at it, and I know that the camera is right on this thing, and all of a sudden here comes the stream of red right into the camera. I thought, “Oh my God, he’s cutting his arm open on television for crying out loud.” I almost had a heart attack.

This wrestling event is to celebrate Jerry Lawler, the King of Memphis wrestling. It’s been three years since his heart attack, and he’s getting back in the ring.  

The superlatives for Lawler? I don’t have enough of them. But I can tell you I’ve seen a lot of wrestlers, and Jerry Lawler is a guy who is gifted in so many directions. I promise, I don’t owe him money or anything. I’m just telling the truth. He is the most talented guy in the business and people hated him in the East because of what he’s done in Memphis. I mean, he became a television host on Channel 5, and he was very good at what he did.

And you recognized his skills right away.

When he was 15, his dad took him down to the auditorium every Monday for wrestling. We had no way to record the matches; it was too expensive at that time. So when Dave and I did the show, we’d have to just talk about what happened. Well, Jerry was a natural artist. He draws these 11″ x 14″ pictures on pieces of cardboard. He drew maybe the finishing move from a match or something. Then Dave and I could talk about the picture.

I found those pictures in my attic about five years ago. I’ve had them for 35 years.

You got to play yourself in Man on the Moon. That had to be affirming to have that Kaufman/Lawler feud become widely recognized as a big moment in pop culture.

Yeah, yeah. I’ve got several copies of it. Unfortunately they cut out some of my best scenes. That was fun though.

And what about the actual feud. Did you guys know you were making history?

We were all working. That’s what we did for a living.

“Long Live the King,” a wrestling tribute to Jerry Lawler, is at Minglewood Hall September 18th,  7 p.m.

Categories
News

Memphis Heat!

Memphis Heat: The True Story of Memphis Wrasslin’ plays in Memphis this week at several theaters. Chris Davis has the story on this entertaining film.