DearBaE Volume 5: Birthdays
Missed Texts, Men Of Wealth & Taste, Birthdays Galore
Welcome to our little advice column! You really can ask us (almost) anything, but please note: Dear BaE is written by two people who wish to remain anonymous. Neither Bono nor Edge are involved in any way, except as they exist in their tiny little brains. No Bonos or Edges were harmed during the creation of this column. Enjoy!
Dear BaE,
I’ve been enjoying U2 X-Radio. I leave it on all day, even if it means that I hear “Numb” once an hour. Naturally I texted the “community” number so I could receive messages from the band! Everything was great until Sunday, August 2, when Edge sent out a text that I did not receive. No big deal, but I live in rural Alaska and don’t see many people. I also have a long history of romantic rejection. U2 has been the most reliable thing in my life. I want to feel like I can count on you guys, you know? Help a sad bro out here.
Herb S.,
Fort Lee, Alaska
Fake Bono: I’m gonna let you handle this one.
Fake Edge: Greetings, Herb. First, let me—
Fake Bono: I told you this would cause problems, didn’t I?
Fake Edge: Bono, hold on. Herb, allow me to apologize—
Fake Bono: I told him, Herb. I told him this phone number thing was unsustainable. I knew something would go wrong. Every time we try to do something nice for the fans, it ends up with people feeling hurt. I knew it. I said—
Fake Edge: Let me at least apologize to Herb!
Fake Bono: Fine!
Fake Edge: Fine? You’re done now?
Fake Bono: Yes!
Fake Edge: Then quit pouting… Anyway, Herb, I am terribly, terribly sorry that you didn’t receive my most recent text. I apologize from the bottom of my heart. Please be assured that we did not wish to offend anyone or cause anyone to feel left out. You see, all of our electronic communications are handled by a young man named Fergus, who operates from an undisclosed location on the Dingle Peninsula. Even we don’t know exactly where he is. We are considering having him relocate, because the weather down there can be a bit rough, and if the power goes out, the poor wee fella has to run down to the pub and use their 28.8 kbps dial-up modem.
Fake Bono: Herb, I am exasperated right now. You know, as a band, U2 always want to be on the very bleeding edge—
Fake Edge: What an awful figure of speech.
Fake Bono: —on the very bleeding edge of technology. But sometimes we just blow it. So to make it up to you, we’re sending you a little gift—all of our early concert films, from Under A Blood Red Sky through U2 Go Home, on VHS videotape.
Fake Edge: No no, we’re not doing that, Bono.
Fake Bono: Oh, come on!
Fake Edge: No one has a VCR anymore. He won’t be able to watch them. Herb, please check your messages. I think you’ll like what you see. And once again, I apologize deeply and abjectly for Fergus’ colossal error.
Dear BaE,
When was the last time either of you mowed your own lawn? Bono: probably never. Edge: maybe 10 years ago. I can see Larry still cutting his own grass, and Adam probably pays some guy to do it and then hangs out with him the whole time.
@Michael15702428
Fort Lee, New Jersey
When was the last time you carried your own luggage?
Love, the Tarts
@the_gardentarts
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Fake Edge: It seems these people have noticed that we have some money and property.
Fake Bono: Indeed they have! Now listen, Michael15702428, which would you like us to do more, write and record music for you, or mow our lawns?
Fake Edge: [fist-bump with Fake Bono] Mic-drop responses, both.
Fake Bono: For the record, I would never do that.
Fake Edge: Mow?
Fake Bono: Drop my mic. That’s my instrument, and I do not condone microphone abuse. Wait a minute, who asked the second question? “The Garden Tarts,” hm? This appellation intrigues me.
Fake Edge: Of course it does.
Fake Bono: Okay then, The Tarts, I will briefly address your cheeky luggage question: Be honest. If you were me, would you carry your own luggage? No, you would obviously save your strength for more rousing, stimulating activities.
Fake Edge: Bono…
Fake Bono: Now listen up, Edge, because the next question concerns you.
Fake Edge: [frees tops of ears from beanie] I’m all ears.
Dear Fake The Edge,
Happiest of birthdays to my favorite guitarist and the resident genius of U2! Where would U2 be without your artistry, dedication and innovation? I shudder to think. Your guitar stylings have received much acclaim over the years, but I believe that you remain the most underrated yet influential guitarist of your generation. Your voice is the band’s secret weapon. The high notes that Bono is unable to reach? You handle them with grace and ease while playing not one but sometimes two instruments simultaneously…
Fake Bono: It goes on like this for quite a while, and then there is a lengthy poem. Plus a digital illustration one assumes was created on an iPad.
Fake Edge: Wait. This message is from you, isn’t it?
Fake Bono: It’s merely one of many birthday wishes from your adoring fans, but yes. Happy birthday, The Edge, and many happy returns on the day.
Fake Edge: Thanks, but I feel a bit sheepish. You’re making such a big deal about it, but 59 is not the impressive round number that 60 is. If I recall correctly, we neglected to even—
Fake Bono: ACKNOWLEDGE MY MAJOR BIRTHDAY IN THIS COLUMN THREE MONTHS AGO? No, Edge, we most certainly did not acknowledge it!
Fake Edge: To be fair, we were on different continents during the beginning months of a frightening pandemic, and DearBaE was in its infancy. I think we were only one column in...? People barely even understood what we are trying to do here...?
Fake Bono: They were supposed to be asking us for advice, I think, but apparently they’d rather imagine me seated atop a riding mower, wearing a John Deere cap. Still, you’re right. Things were scary at the time, and it would have been gauche to be overly celebratory.
Fake Edge: Well, it may seem a little gauche even now, but we certainly won’t defeat the monster by becoming the monster.
Fake Bono: What smart person said that?
Fake Edge: Oh, just a guy I know with the biggest, warmest voice in rock ‘n’ roll. A man generous in both wealth and spirit who sees everyone in the world as his equal and as his friend. A man who should really have his own sitcom—because he can turn the world on with his smile. A man who never just goes through the motions of singing his honest, emotionally intelligent songs, but who lives them, night after night, in front of thousands of people, all of whom understand he is singing directly to them. Readers of AtU2, you know who I’m talking about. So please help me wish my very best friend, Bono, the happiest of all belated birthdays.
Fake Bono: Oh. My goodness. Well. I’m lost for words.
Fake Edge: You readers might want to take a screenshot of that, because it probably won’t happen again. Anyway, B., we can include your belated birthday when we celebrate mine, with our immediate quarantine families gathered around us. And we can celebrate again two days later, when you officially turn 60-and-one-quarter.
Fake Bono: I guess that would work.
Fake Edge: We can do your half- and three-quarters-birthdays as well, if that helps.
Fake Bono: [mumbles] When I forgot Ali’s birthday that one time, I wrote her a hit song. No big deal.
Fake Edge: You actually wrote her a B-side that did not, in fact, become a hit until we re-recorded it nine years later.
Fake Bono: Thank you for that, Edge. You are helpful as always.
Fake Edge: You’re welcome!
Fake Bono: And that’s another column wrapped up, U2 fans, you beautiful bunch of ripe bananas! To paraphrase Sam* 126—which happens to be a Song of Ascent!—we may sow in tears, but we will soon reap shouts of joy. We love you!
*Bongolese for “Psalm”
Do you have a burning question for Fake Bono and Fake Edge? Follow them on Twitter (@DearBAEatu2) and ask! They are capable of answering questions about U2, questions that are related to U2, and questions that have nothing to do with U2 at all.
Note: Fake Bono and Fake Edge are not real. They are two people pretending to be them. They cannot put you in touch with U2. They cannot help you with your music career, and they have no plans to come to Brazil anytime soon.