Readers Who Write

Occasionally I will take a peek at Twitter …. errr, I mean X, just to make sure that “The End of Civilization” is not trending. (BTW, it really should have been renamed Y instead of X, as in why does it even exist, but that is a story for another day).

Anyway, it was there that I came across the type of breaking news that is truly worth 55 seconds of my life’s attention. A snappy video portion of scintillating sports acumen that was being shared in a post by someone equally enthusiastic at the marvels of human athleticism. I am speaking about professional pillow fighting — from a televised competition on ESPN.

There — between the ropes of a boxing ring — stood two athletic-looking men swinging what looked to be two under-filled My Pillow Premiums at each other. Complete with referee, screaming fans and announcers that were oohing and ahhing at a reversal move that apparently had earned one of the opponents a point.

I couldn’t help but notice the Dr. Pepper logo prominently displayed on the ring’s floor. ESPN, Dr. Pepper, and apparently enough home viewership left me bewildered at what constitutes sport has “risen” to. Even crazier is that pillow fighting leagues have existed at least since 2010. The same activity that we engaged in as kids, usually after drinking too much Dr. Pepper at a sleepover, is now a paid professional sport.

Several thoughts came to mind, the first being why couldn’t this have been a paid professional sport in the 1970s when I was at the top of my pillow swashbuckling days? Carving up opponents as I jumped from bed to floor, as feathers floated all around the room. Nary had an opponent stood a chance of escaping the wrath of my 700 fill-power European white goose down, sleep-terminating implement of terror. I would have been a contender for sure, and my adoring fans would have surrounded my lavish pillow-engulfed trophy room as we drank carbonated prune juice.

OK, that last line is just a Dr. P rumor … or is it? But once again, I digress.

Maybe it’s not too late for me? I mean, except for torn rotator cuffs and less ability to leap onto the bed, I feel like I can step into the ring of the over-65 Pillow Fighting Championships and still bring the heat. Bobbing and weaving my way to a great supplement to my retirement income, as well as becoming the most feared Dr. Pepper-drinking occupant of the Rogue Valley Manor.

What about pillow fighting as an Olympic sport? Yes, the dreams of all those young kids out there to someday represent their country as Olympic athletes, and receive that gold medal from Mike Lindell is what dreams are made of.

So, there you have it. From here forward I shall be referred to as A.J. The Argonaut as I pursue my professional career as a pillow fighter. And, if that doesn’t work out, there is always the Professional Balooney Ball circuit, at which I am still undefeated, having never let a balloon hit the ground.

So you say you want to write?

Go for it.

Send us 500 or so words of scintillating copy. Make it funny. Make it poignant. Make it count. Make it any way you want.

Just don’t cuss. Don’t be boring. And have a point.

If we like it, we’ll run it.

Email submissions to community@rv-times.com. Put “Readers Who Write” in the subject line, and tell us the city where you live.