I, Teenager (Pt. 2)

OMG you guys. After rifling through university applications, essays on the feminist narrative, portfolios and letters of intent, 3.5″ floppy disk backups, zines and magazines, templates, sketches and notebooks, and everything related to my “photography phase,” nothing supported my claim that the questionable Wu-Tang review was ever published. I found newsprint copies of Vice from 1998, but nothing pre-dating that (save for the standard adolescent sketchbooks and diaries).

I avoided getting into any of that archival stuff too deeply, knowing that I could get sidetracked for hours, reading short stories and gasping at, well, myself. I’m certain that if I let myself go there, this post would be chock-full of endearingly embarrassing things. I’d still be scanning the stuff. So I’ll save that for another time, when there really is nothing left to say.

For now there remains marginally enough to share.

And the quick gumshoe work of reader Helenoe confirmed that it would have been impossible for Weird Al to have been in Toronto, since he was performing his own concert in Wilkes-Barre, PA, kicking off his Bad Hair Day tour.

Lucky for the rest of us, I initially forgot to type in “tour” after “Bad Hair Day” in my Google search box and the first thing that came up was this image, which left me quite speechless.

I, Teenager (Pt. 1)

My mom recently sent me home with a real-life photo album full of pictures of me. It basically starts when I was a baby and goes up until my university graduation, at which time everybody switched to digital cameras, and therefore no more printed photos exist.

I found some zingers in there: bad haircuts, bad clothes, bad glasses, good memories, great friends. The one piece that totally blew my mind was a live review of WU-TANG CLAN that I had WRITTEN BY HAND and then FAXED to Suroosh at the then titled Voice (presently Vice). Now, which of the items in that declaration was more shocking: that my submission was 100% analogue, or that I went to see the Wu-Tang? I choose the former.

I know, you’re thinking: Is this a joke? I read it last night and had the same reaction. Weird “Al” on stage with the Wu? Did I just make that up? As I recall I had taken some bad drugs before the show and spent most of the time barfing in the toilet and trying not to pass out (moral: don’t do drugs). Did this concert happen as I described it or is this some sort of first-gen mashup sarcasm?

Dated May 28, 1996, means I had just turned 19 when I wrote this. AND from the handwriting on the date, it also appears that I got my DAD to fax it for me. A quick note to my Mom and Dad: you are brave and the greatest parents EVER. You trusted me – just sent those vibes my way – and I ended up at a sketchy concert with a poster that promised SECURITY STRICTLY ENFORCED. And lived to tell. I love you.

So: was this teenaged drivel fit to print? Viceland.com does not have archived print editions on the internet earlier than December 2005. Luckily, I have mild OCD and, had they printed it, should have a copy in the garage.

So until I can dig that out, this post is to be continued