I enrolled in West Virginia University for the fall term of 1982. I was in the Industrial Relations program, having earned my Bachelor's degree in English from Dickinson College in May 1981. I lived in Summit Hall, a dormitory that was not owned by the University, but "private." Most of the other folks on my floor were undergrads, seemingly all of them in Engineering, or Business. Not much respect for the Humanities there.
As it turned out, there were three guys named Ed on the floor. One was a long-hair. He played the guitar and was into Heavy Metal music. He and some other metalheads on the floor worshipped Randy Rhoads, who was Ozzy Osbourne's lead guitarist, until he died of stupdity while buzzing a house in a light airplane. He was known as Hippie Ed.
The second Ed was a guy from Long Island, who was on an ROTC Scholarship. Army Ed was a natural.
The third Ed was a surly son of a bitch. Mean Ed. Me.
Years later, I was at the wedding of my roommate, Mike, in the company of my then fiance', now wife. Apparently, I was being a bit too affectionate with her, because some of my friends from WVU came across the floor and officially stripped me of my title. But I like alliteration, so Mean Ed's Musings it is.
