Scott Bowden presents Kentucky Fried Rasslin

Head start: Lawler offered Kaufman a free headlock, and the comedian obliged.

On Nov. 23, 1981, 10-year-old Scott Bowden sat in the ringside area at the Mid-South Coliseum as “TV star”  Andy Kaufman entered the ring and proceeded to insult women–and the South in general–before preparing to do battle with four ladies (and I use that term loosely) selected from the audience. Kaufman had upped the ante from his previous appearance on Oct. 12 in Memphis, in which he retained his $500 after pinning four women in under 12 minutes. This time, in addition to putting up $1,000 of his Hollywood cash, Kaufman offered to not only shave his head if he lost but also marry the woman who was lucky enough to pin his shoulders to the mat.

My dad and I were huge fans of the show “Taxi,” and Kaufman’s lovable Latka Gravis character was easily my favorite on the show. However, the Kaufman in the ring this night was the antithesis of Latka, with the Hollywood celebrity mocking all 5,392 of us Memphis rednecks in attendance.  I didn’t know what to make of this at first, but in no time at all, I hated his guts. Looking back on it now, Kaufman was fortunate to have landed in Memphis after Andy’s proposal to wrestle women in Madison Square Garden was rejected by Vince McMahon Sr. Yes, he got heat nationwide with his challenges to women on “Saturday Night Live” and his variety show, but the explosion he ignited in the South was his greatest feat in the business, in part due to a videotaped series of ”hygiene tips” that WMC-TV received numerous complaints over. (“This…is a roll of toilet paper!”)

By the time the first woman entered the ring to lock horns with the Inter-Gender Champion of the World, the crowd was whipped into a frenzy hoping to see Kaufman humiliated. He struggled with the first woman before quickly pinning the next two. The “bouts” mainly consisted of Kaufman and his female challengers rolling all over the mat, with the star mainly grabbing headlocks and locks of hair before eventually overpowering them. A black woman, introduced only as “Foxy,” was the final challenger. By this point, blown up worse than Kevin Nash on his worst day (hard to pinpoint that one, really), Kaufman still nearly managed to pin Memphis’ answer to Pam Grier when the time limit expired. Kaufman proceeded to push her around after the match until the staunch advocate of feminism himself, Jerry Lawler, came to ringside and asked Andy to give her three more minutes, which he declined. As you can imagine, little Scotty Bowden was going berserk at this point.

In fall 2007, when Lawler introduced the documentary “I’m from Hollywood” at the Egyptian Theatre in Los Angeles, I discussed those inter-gender bouts for the first time with him. Lawler told me that all four ladies were indeed chosen at random from the audience that night after Andy assured Jerry Jarrett that he could handle himself in the ring. Lawler admitted that he was worried a bit that Kaufman was going to get his ass kicked. After seeing how well Kaufman got over, the promotion asked him return to face Foxy in a rematch, this time with the finish predetermined, with Lawler in her corner. The ending to that bout, with Lawler shoving Kaufman, was designed set up the eventual showdown between the King and the comedian on April 5, 1982.

When it comes to annoying women, Andy Kaufman wrote the book.

A new book, “Dear  Andy Kaufman, I Hate Your Guts!” is a collection of  actual letters written by would-be adversaries, along with their photos, and in some cases, bizarre illustrations. This coffee-table-style book illustrates just how well Andy excelled in his heel role. Kaufman received a wave of impassioned challenges, threats and even love letters from hundreds of women. (Some women appeared to in on the joke, others not so much.) The letters in “Dear Andy Kaufman, I Hate Your Guts!” provide a bizarre take on both ’70s culture in general and post-feminist attitudes of the decade. Kaufman’s girlfriend at the time of his death, Lynne Margulies, helped put together the collection and wrote the foreword. Bob Zmuda, longtime friend and partner in crime, wrote the foreword. You can order it from amazon.com  by clicking the link below. Also, DVDs are available featuring the entire Lawler vs. Kaufman feud, which are definitely worth ordering if you’ve never seen complete feud.

Ladies and gentlemen, a fixture on Tiger Woods's bedside table, Jim Cornette proudly presents The Midnight Express 25th Anniversary Scrapbook.

Jim Cornette’s must-read book covers the incarnations of the Midnight Express as only he could, with intriguing insight into the history of the team and their documented drawing power as an attraction in Mid-South and for Jim Crockett Promotions. The Midnight Express 25th Anniversary Scrapbook easily has more interesting info about the mid-’80s JCP period than just about any book I’ve read, even booker Dusty’s bio, although that’s not exactly shocking.

Cornette also chronicles his dealings with former WCW head honcho Jim Herd, arguably the most incompetent man ever to run the company—which is saying a lot. Reading about the ineptitude of Herd and others at WCW is almost enough to give me a headache. (Yes, Cornette confirms that Herd did in fact pitch the Hunchbacks gimmick—a tag-team whose shoulders couldn’t be pinned to the mat because of their humps.)

Other material in the book includes actual letters from irate fans, sections on MX ribs (pranks), and lawsuits filed against Cornette and the team. The book also highlights some of the manager’s classic one-liners, including “J.J. Dillon’s had so many facelifts, he’s got nipples on his chin; they had enough skin left over to make a midget. His Social Security Number is 1.” and “Louisiana reminds me of Darwin’s waiting room.” (One of my personal faves regarding Dusty’s younger sibling didn’t make the list: “They used to call Dusty’s sister ‘Federal Express’ ‘cause when she went to a guy’s house she absolutely, positively had to be there overnight.”)

The 230-page book includes bios—“Before and After Midnight”—of the stars who made up one of the best acts in the history of the business: Cornette, “Beautiful” Bobby Eaton, “Lover Boy” Dennis Condrey and “Sweet” Stan Lane as well as the manager’s bodyguard in Jim Crockett Promotions, the late Ray Traylor (“Big Bubba Rogers” and, later, WWE’s “Big Boss Man).

In addition to reprints of souvenir programs and magazine covers featuring himself and the various incarnations of the Midnights, Cornette includes the houses (money drawn) and notes of many of his appearances throughout his career, directly from the thorough records he kept over the years, which the author chalks up to his OCD tendencies.

Most fascinating, we get insights into his Memphis days, including the fateful day promoter Jerry Jarrett tapped him on the shoulder at the WMC-TV Studio on Union Ave. to inform him of his plans to mold him into the spoiled brat character that manager Gary Hart had played so well years earlier. Cornette, who usually didn’t photograph the studio show, was there that day to document the classic Lawler angle with NWA World champ Ric Flair, who was making his first and only TV appearance in his birthplace. (I’ve often wondered if the course of wrestling in the area would have changed had Flair, who was adopted in Memphis but raised in Minneapolis, had grown up in the area and become a fan of the local show like he did in Minnesota. Yeah, yeah, it’s a stretch, but I have to mark out over the thought of Flair and Lawler, my two favorite all-time performers, coming up at the same time in the territory in the ’70s.)

Like both Lawler and Flair, Cornette was a huge wrestling fan at an early age. It all started when his mother stayed up late one night watching Dick the Bruiser’s promotion out of Indianapolis. The following week, Cornette was hooked when his mama allowed her young son to stay up past his bedtime to watch along with her. By the time Cornette was 13, he and his mother were regulars at the Tuesday night shows at Louisville Gardens, which didn’t go unnoticed by Christine Jarrett, the mother of the Memphis promoter. In 1975, he began taking photos of the wrestlers from his ringside seat with an instamatic camera. His first subject: prelim worker Dennis Condrey, who even posed for the little squirt.

The Cornette scrapbook recalls the young photographer’s sentimental memories of the Saturday morning meeting with Jarrett that would change his career and his life forever: “I shit my pants. I thought I had heat.”

In addition to the book, Cornette’s Collectibles has a new DVD release of Midnight Express rarities, including many bouts never before seen on U.S. television. Click to order the book here. Pick up the book and DVD for the the Midnight mark on your list by clicking here. For my full review of the book, click here.

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The gold standard: Wrestling's most famous title belt is documented in Ten Pounds of Gold.

Produced by Dave Millican and Dick Bourne, Ten Pounds of Gold is a gorgeous 80-page historical record of wrestling’s greatest title belt. In addition to close-up, beautiful photos take by Millican and Bourne, who had a unique opportunity to spend an afternoon with the Domed Globe, the book features rare pics provided by eight-time NWA titlist Race and his wife BJ that show the champ receiving the new gold belt from NWA president Sam Muchnick on July 20, 1973, in Houston. Race, of course, went on to drop his new trophy to challenger Brisco that same night. Also included are brief profiles of the eight men who wore the championship: Race, Brisco, Shohei “Giant” Baba, Funk, Dusty Rhodes, Tommy Rich, Flair and Von Erich. (Nope, no profile of Jack Veneno.)

Most fascinating are the details of the belt’s construction and subtle changes over the years. For example, the wide-cut leather strap on the belt was originally encased in red velvet. For years, I was under the impression that Race had been presented with a black-leather strap that night in Houston, as most of the photos I’d seen were in black-and-white. About seven years ago, I saw color pictures of Brisco defending the title against Baba in Japan and was surprised to see the red belt. While the red velvet looked nice and rather regal, it wasn’t durable for the long haul and sweat stains began to tarnish its appearance. Brisco had the belt re-leathered with a brand-new black-leather strap, with a tighter cut around the buckle—which, in my opinion, enhanced the appearance of the NWA belt. Another interesting tidbit is that shortly after winning the belt, Brisco was honored with a nameplate under the word “WRESTLING” on the buckle, similar to the nameplate on the Big Gold strap made famous by Flair years later. The first nameplate read “Jack Brisco,” while the second version simply read “BRISCO” in all caps. When Funk won the title, the intended “tradition” was disregarded. Even Race was unaware of this aspect of the belt’s past.

The Ten Pounds of Gold is a unique history lesson. For more on the project, click here. Better yet, delight the belt mark on your list by picking up a copy of the book here. (The price tag–$39.99–might seem steep to some, but I can assure you that this is a true labor of love by Millican and Bourne. You won’t be disappointed.)