I’ve never been ashamed of being trashy. I’ve definitely had my fair share of folks attempt to shame me – A notable moment being the time where this rather large fellow, I’m talking literally had to keep the top down on his convertible at all times in order to get into the fucking thing, cruised by me and yelled that I was trash. No bullshit, this happened when I was 16 years old – Was the only headbanger at some hippie bullshit fest because it was a spot to get free beers, and it didn’t bug me in the slightest. I’ve always been in tune with exactly who I am, and I’m proud of it. If ya ask me, there are two kinds of trash – Folks that watch Maury, and folks that are on Maury. So long as I kept my life balanced enough to avoid spewing my garbage publicly on television, I felt like I was in the clear. Now y’all may be wondering what the hell any of this has to do with Over the Top (1987) – The answer is everything.

I’ve always been a sucker for what I like to call ‘macho cinema’ – Movies that are pumping with testosterone. Shit like Road House (1989), Stone Cold (1991), and pretty much every single movie starring Charles Bronson or Clint Eastwood. I’m not going to apologize for liking this shit, either. If y’all want to shout from mountain tops about toxic masculinity, I’ll just remind you that I’m a woman and I don’t give one shit about what you think. I like my dudes tough, sue me.

The primary ingredients in Over the Top are truck-driving and arm-wrestling. Long story short, Sly Stallone plays Lincoln Hawk – A buff trucker that arm wrestles to make a little extra cash, ya dig? Now, you know how these films work – We need emotion, dummy! And we get it from Hawk trying to salvage a relationship with his only son, Michael (David Mendenhall), who he had abandoned years before.

I’m not gonna dig deeper into the plot, I just wanna bitch about Hawk’s son and exactly why he sucks so much. This film hits a little close to home for me, because it taps into a lot of the shit I grew up around. My family owns a scrap metal business, and I remember sitting in the passenger seat of a semi once or twice as a child while my father took the wheel. Did I bitch about how ‘disgusting’ the truck was like this little asshole? Fuck no! I was supremely stoked, and I’ve loved big trucks ever since.

Now, the whole arm wrestling bit – I legitimately grew up around arm wrestlers. Literally every single dude in my life was buff as all hell, to the point where I used to see Hulk Hogan and think “Shit, that looks like my dad!” Two of my dad’s best friends were World Champions in the arm wrestling world, if that gives you any indication of what I was exposed to. One of ’em had arms the size of watermelons, and he had actually spent time in prison for breaking a cop’s jaw. He used to come up to me after a few beers and say “10 out of 10 jaws, Breanna!” – Which was both awe-inspiring AND terrifying.

Now, y’all can think what you want, but these kinds of folks shaped me into the person I am today. I grew up thinking the whole ‘blue collar’ world was just how it was, and that in order to get ahead in life, you had to take care of yourself and not take any shit. I’m thankful I was brought up this way, because I know I can handle myself. I’m a 5’3” blonde woman, yet I’ve never spent a single moment of my life intimidated by any man (unless we’re talking about that one time I met Bruce Dickinson, but that is different, ok?) Not only did I have my dad and ol’ Watermelon Arms teach me how to throw a proper punch, I also had a lineup of scary men behind me that would handle any shit that should come my way.

Personal anecdotes aside, I suppose what I’m getting at here is that this kid, Michael, should’ve been extremely stoked and grateful that his dad is such a badass. I mean, yes, you see this happen throughout the course of the film – But I can’t get over some of the shit he says early on. Comments about social stature, and how he is on a different scale and shit. You know what, I agree with him! There are definitely different levels of social stature, and I’m happy to be near the bottom. If y’all can’t get down with the finer things in life – Shit like cheap beer, big trucks, loud music (Sammy fuckin’ Hagar!), fighting for sport, then I don’t want anything to do with you.

Perhaps I’m sour because I have experienced discrimination based on this. I’m not sayin’ that to sound like some ‘poor me’ sad sack, either, I’ve just kinda learned to avoid folks that weren’t on my level. I don’t think anyone has any right to feel better about themselves just because they try to uphold some sort of bullshit image based on class. Being modest is just so much fucking cooler, y’know? I just don’t see the fun in being a pompous ass 24/7. Get messy. Do dumb shit. Live your life.

And most importantly, I just wanna emphasize that being tough is an incredibly important quality. Now, I’m not saying go out and be an asshole – Be kind, courteous, and respectful until someone gives you a reason not to be. That is exactly how I was raised, and I find solace in knowing that I won’t let anyone walk all over me, y’know? And that is what the core of this film is all about. Like good ol’ Lincoln Hawk says, “The world meets nobody halfway.”