Oh No, Not Again

For the first time in my life, I can't write what I want to.

No, a stern editor hasn't muzzled me. No, The Crimson hasn't made a decision to take away my freedom to make myself as stupid as I want.

In fact, I am just as free to insult, ridicule and slander as in past columns. It's a privilege I've abused in the past--believe it or not--and one that I undoubtedly will abuse again.

Just under a year ago, I called 100,000 people a bunch of names. I hit 'em, like we used to say in high school, where they lived.

And they hit me back, since I was where they lived at the time.

Duluth.

This time around, I was planning a funny piece about Kalamazoo, Mich., the home of Western Michigan University, this year's NCAA quarterfinal opponent.

I was going to say that I was sorry to see Harvard get home ice and miss a trip to another medium-sized Midwestern city.

I was going to list all of the interesting things going on in Kalamazoo this time of year. All the things to do. All the things to see.

And I was going to be sincere. Really.

Then I started to write and my list of things to do in Kalamazoo grew and grew and grew.

Not only long but sarcastic.

How could I talk about the Kalamazoo Air Zoo and its famous warbirds of World War II exhibit and keep up a pretense of sincerity?

My intention, however noble, was doomed from the start.

I was paralyzed. I was not--I repeat not--paralyzed because there was nothing good I could say about Kalamazoo, but because of the credibility gap.

I already have a credit gap, which means that I get a rainbow of notes each month from the Coop. At one point the Coop trusted me to pay my bills, and at one point people trusted me to call it as I saw it.

No more. I have become the archdemon of all things Mid-western.

Friends, and I use the term loosly (but imagine who keeps my company post-Duluth anyway, love to grab strange passersby and introduce me to them.

"Steve, Betsy, Arnold, Doofy, Daffy, Sneezy, this is Nick Wurf."

"Nick Worth....You're the guy that wrote that..."

"Nick," and here my friends always interupt, "Steve, Betsy, Arnold, Doofy, Daffy, and Sneezy are from Minnesota.

What am I to say.

I'm Sorry?

So if I tried to say Kalamazoo was a grand town (something, incidentally I am sure that it is), people would assume that I was joking.

And the only one who would end up looking like an ass is me.

Who wrote that piece about Kalamazoo? Nick Wurf.

There he goes again, mocking the Midwest.

He doesn't like anything, not anything from America's heartland, leastwise.

And since life isn't a Life cereal commercial, I have no chance for real redemption, to be filmed on Main Street Kalamazoo dancing and singing a musical invitation to come patronize the Kalamazoo commercial district.

So I'll hold my praise of Kalamazoo. I'm sure they'll thank me for it later.