BYT Empire

Brightest Young Things


by Brandon Wetherbee

Brandon Wetherbee hosts the talk show/podcast You, Me, Them, Everybody the first two Friday’s of the month at the Wonderland Ballroom and in Brooklyn and Chicago once a month. Subscribe to it online at youmethemeverybody.com. He’ll be at the Wonderland Ballroom on September 2 with guests Mab, Just Mab, stand up comedian Sampson McCormick and a special set from Dan Scheuerman of Deleted Scenes.

There's an episode of "Step By Step" (You know this is going to be worth reading when the first part of the first sentence references an A.B.C. T.G.I.F. family sitcom. I'm cut from the same cloth of all great columnists. Ben Hecht, Mike Royko, INSERT COLUMNIST YOU LIKE TO MAKE ME LOOK SMARTER, me, we all mention Urkel, the Tanners and Cody as much as our editor's allow.) I think of whenever I'm on vacation. The Patrick Duffy character is trying to teach the Thighmaster lady how to relax. They're on the beach. He's laying out, soaking up some hot rays and catching some z's. She's sitting next to him, filing or writing thank you notes or whatever Wisconsin mom's do. He's all "Relax, baby!" and she's all, "I'm a spokes-lady! I can't relax" and then Cody beat the shit out of his wife (Did you know he's in "Kickboxer 3" or something dumb involving martial arts?) and was on a special episode of "Oprah" via satellite for jail. This is what I'm like on vacation. Exactly like this.

Since I like what I do and don't loathe the things I get paid to do, I'm never craving a break. (I do crave a break from your Kit Kat Bar but that's due to low blood sugar and I act like a toddler when I'm hungry and this sidebar joke is dumb.) Resorts, cruises and getaways are not needed. Though incredibly grateful for any weekend not spend in D.C. (Please don't be offended. Actually, if you are upset with that sentiment, you probably don't live in the District. I don't know anyone that's been in D.C. every Saturday for the last six months let alone a year.), I'm not sure what to do after the first six hours.

Upon arriving somewhere that I'm not going to host a talk show, I have a drink, beer, wine, whatever. Then a snack, then another drink then a meal. Then I'm lost. Going to a film seems like a cop out. Going to a bar is boring after an hour. Outdoor activities like fishing, hiking, hunting, etc. are foreign and weird. So, now what?

If I can see stars, something feels wrong. I get over the utter absurdity of unraped landscapes after two days, but the first day and night has always and will always feel unnatural. I need to be in an urban center, complaining about things that only come from being in an urban center, to be less unhappy. (This is getting way too over-dramatic.)

I'm currently in Northern Michigan. Last night the sky was full of stars. I saw a sky full of stars with my eyes and the two things that ran through my skull were 1. all of the knowledge i have about the cosmos comes from Donna Noble's granddad in "Doctor Who" and 2. I get why people in rural areas like guns. Tonight, when I see the stars, I will have no thoughts in my head and feel like a real man. I'll just be drinking whatever beer is the cheapest, listening to rock and roll on the radio because there's only rock and roll on the radio up here and making sweet love to Mother Nature.

I'm almost comfortable up here and by the time I have to leave I'll want to stay. Just like the Thighmaster lady, I will learn how to relax and throw a tantrum when I'm shoved back into normal life. The majestic beauty of the land seeps into me with each visit. So does the high sodium buffets at the Indian Casinos located only five minutes from where I'm typing this sentence.

Thanks for reading and have a wonderful night.

Previously in behind the desk:

God loves a cheerful giver.

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