THE WYMAN WEEKLY

Underemployed. Unattached. Unimpressed.

Issue 40 February 14, 1997

 

 

 

Last year, I wrote my second issue on February 14, but dated it February 15 because I didn’t want to have a Valentine’s Day issue. While I write this, you are all out there giving or receiving flowers, going to some fancy restaurant, staring into your love’s eyes, holding hands, and walking off into the sunset. Me? Well, dear readers, I sit at home sipping on a brew while I check the WCHA scores and eat sunflower seeds. For the past twelve Valentine’s Days or so, I’ve plowed through listenings of the Sex Pistols, the Clash, Metallica, and Creedence; bands who never really did love songs. I also avoided any songs about lust, because I can’t tell the difference between it and love, anyway. But this year, I’m listening to avowed romantics like Springsteen and Semisonic. This year I am not afraid of Valentine’s Day. The Wyman Weekly is a labor of love, you understand, and this issue is my valentine to all of you out there.

 

Of course, you’ll probably be receiving this at work or at home on February 17th, and you’ve had plenty of time to recover from all that wine you drank tonight. You’ve already had your Sunday night argument about who’s turn it is to take out the trash. But better late than never with this valentine, right?

 

WAVELENGTH

 

Somewhere in my piles and piles of scratch paper with my scribbled notes on them is a longer list of major screwups than the one that follows made by deejays of the Edge. The Edge is a station with an edge on no one, and it is not cutting edge at all. Hence the name.

 

“That’s some early Husker Du.” a deejay said after playing “Too Far Down” from the Husker’s Candy Apple Grey. I’ll give credit to 93.7 for playing the song, but the album was released late in their career.

 

Another deejay actually said “The Ramones played at Edge Fest - we’re responsible for breaking them.” Sure, you guys made Bowie a star, too.

 

How about The Edge telling us that they brought us Semisonic to the Minneapolis Block Party last summer. They had never played Semisonic in the past, then played “If I Run” a few times the week of the Block Party, but never played them again. And they parked their van outside of First Avenue at Semisonic’s show last November, but weren’t playing the band on their station. (Reference TWW #33 for how your typical Minneapolis music fans truly feel about 93.7.)

 

Let’s pretend that The Edge, instead of being a radio station, is someone that you know. Okay, pretend that Rev 105 is someone that you know also. Think about it. Here’s how it goes...

 

The Edge thinks he’s cool, but he’s not nearly as cool as he thinks he is. The Rev, on the other hand, truly is cool. The Edge drinks a beer that has millions of dollars in Madison Avenue advertising behind it, drives a beautiful expensive car, listens to Smashing Pumpkins and Alanis Morissette. The Rev drinks Summitt Pale Ale taps or lots o’ coffee. You’re not quite sure what kind of car she drives and it usually is in sore need of a wash. But when you’ve been in it, you had to move her “road tapes” off of the passenger seat when getting in. The car tapes are carefully assembled compilations of tunes that The Rev loves to listen to when she’s driving out of town. The Rev listens to everything. When you’re in her apartment, you look in awe at her discs, albums, and tapes stacked in piles near her stereo.

 

You’ve never borrowed a tape or a disc from The Edge. You’re constantly exchanging tapes and discs with The Rev. When The Edge talks about music, he reminds you of Cliff Clavin. You try not to feel like a snob when you’re quietly ignoring what he has to say. When The Rev talks about music, you listen carefully and think of her words when you’re in the record shop. The Edge thinks that Nevermind was Nirvana’s first album. The Rev prefers From the Banks of the Muddy Wishkah over Live in New York. The Edge shops at Sam Goody. The Rev shops at Let It Be. The Edge spends his Saturday nights watching Saturday Night Live and “partying.” The Rev spends her Saturday nights in a dark, smoky, club watching bands. The Edge eats breakfast at Perkin’s. The Rev eats at the little diner on the corner.

 

You know that if The Edge ever moves out of town, there will always be someone like him around. If The Rev left town, you’d be tempted to follow her wherever she goes.

 

I haven’t personalized any of the other radio stations in town. If I did, KQ would wear Zubaz, and KOOL 108 would be cooler than you give her credit for.

 

WORK

 

Finally at work, I scored two things that every temp desires: 1) a desk far, far away from people who have an idea of what I should be doing, and 2) a project that doesn’t have an immediate deadline. So now I can work at my own leisurely pace, and out of the sight of my fellow bean counters. I’m closer to the lunch room for those frequent stops to look at the newspaper and get more coffee. And I’m only two cubicles away from (deleted). I spend a lot of time walking from my new desk back to the finance department to get files and supplies. Today, I figured out that I can spend a good part of my day just walking around, and nobody’s going to notice. So I cruise the hallways, making my way from (deleted's) desk to (deleted's)  to (deleted's)  to (deleted's)  to (deleted's)  and then to (deleted's). It’s good for the eyes, the heart, and the soul.

 

THE Y

 

I’m a member at the Blaisdell YMCA. I’ve been to a few of the other Y’s around town, and even though you can watch cable TV while you work out at the downtown Minneapolis Y, and though they pipe in music to the workout room at the Ridgedale Y and provide cable in the locker rooms, I still prefer my Y the best. How come? The Blaisdell Y has in its locker room a grand collection of preachers, philosophers, cutups, trash-talkers, and theorists. Conversations vary from: the awesomeness of burgers at Matt’s on 35th and Cedar, how The Company brought crack cocaine to southeast LA, which aerobics classes are best for our viewing pleasure, and how much weight we’ve gained since high school. I’ve been going to this facility long enough where I get the occasional nod and “whassup?” when I’m in the room. The other day was a classic. I entered the locker room to find some very solemn men having a discussion about how going to church was going to save a troubled soul from drugs. As their conversation ended, a youngster on the other end of the room broke into a sermon on the glories of his religion, which he calls The Order of the Genuine Draft. “We celebrate Mass! Mass Consumption! Our first commandment is that we shall not drink thee warm! We will always drink thee cold! We pray to thee! Bring us salvation!” Can’t say that I agree with the denomination, but I gotta love the spirituality.

 

CONCLUDING THOUGHT ON VALENTINE’S DAY

 

The following quote comes from Tripp Biscuit, who is a character in the comic strip Thatch. The strip can be amusing, and Tripp is basically a slightly younger version of Wyman. (He’s got my old haircut, too.) Take it away, Tripp...

 

You know, it’s just not Valentine’s Day without chips, dip and a couple King Kans of Schlitz.