Current mood:	sad
Current music:	Roger Miret and the Disasters

ARM-A-DILLA and The 'cm' stands for country music..
So James Gibson walks into the FIP locker room and he's all geared up to tear the house down. Only one problem: There's only about 12 people in attendance. On top of that, i'm the "memphis" in the "memphis-strongstyle" world of the FIP. Gibson apologizes to me for not being familiar with everything I do, but knows I throw a shinning wizard, and keeps trying to put that in the match. I'm not one to take the night off, so i'm trying to assure him that's not what i'm trying to do. I tell him no wizards tonight. No trolls, no spooky witches, and no huge moves. I'm MEMPHIS tonight. He thinks i'm crazy, afterall, this is the indies right? We're supposed to dump each other on our heads a whole lot, then maybe punch eachother in the face a couple dozen times. James Gibson is kind enough to let me call the match in the ring, like the heels always used to, and something great happens after. James Gibson walks in the back and tells ME, CM Punk, that i'm a hell of a worker.

I think back on that story a lot and smile. To me, I ain't nobody. He was Jamie Noble. I'm just some punk rock kid trying to tell stories. Instead of talking spots for two hours before our match, he talked about his kid, and I started to get to know the guy. I think he really loved that. Man he really loves that kid too. I thought it was the most bad ass thing in the world. He was really amped to work with me, and I like to think afterwards he had a totally different apreciation of who I was, and what I was capable of. In between asking me if I offend him because he likes drinking beer and telling stories about his kid, he thanks ME for taking care of him and making it fun again for him. Jamie Noble. James Gibson. Thanking ME.

James Gibson leaves ROH tonight, just like I did almost two months ago. I wish I could say I was going to be there, but i'll be wrestling a house show in Indianapolis. He deserves one hell of a send off. He helped ROH out more than I think he knows. In the grand scheme of things, he's been there for me in the short while i've known him, but I think back to that first day we met, and worked, and hung out...and i'm greatful that I can call James "by god" Gibson my friend. He's my little buddy, don't ya know!

Somebody better throw some streamers for that hillbilly. Throw a couple for me too, and yell "armadilla!" at him a few times, just so he thinks of a certain punk rock kid...