From gh1g+@andrew.cmu.edu Wed Nov 22 17:09:46 1989
From: gh1g+@andrew.cmu.edu (Gregg Fielding Hinderstein)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: to family (?)
Date: 21 Nov 89 07:02:59 GMT
Distribution: usa
Organization: Class of '91, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA
In-Reply-To: <11654@phoenix.Princeton.EDU>
Status: RO

Jen,
I printed out your post, to show it to my parents, to show 'em its not
just me.  Reading that I thought it was myself speaking.  I somehow
found that I'm just not a "student".  But society states someone of my
position goes to college, and gets a job, makes it his life, and dies. 
Since 1st grade I've hated school, couldn't study, couldn't understand
how anyone could.  Anyway, I finally decided I've had enough, just up
and quit, didn't even worry about what I'm going to do next.  Luckily I
have the option, I can even go back to school later if I want to.  I
hope you have the option to do the same.  "I'm missing some sort of
drive" "I love to read, but academia gets to me". You sure you're not
me?  Nah, couldn't be. 

Mike, give me three.  Whatever I had before, these are repeats

To conformity <crash>
To academia <crash>
To the future <crash>

Gregg (another soul in the wind)


"when you're down, and troubled, and you need a helping hand, and
nothing, oh nothing is going right, close your eyes and think of me, and
soon I will be there, to brightnen up even your darkest day. You just
call out my name, and you know, wherever I am, I'll coming running, to
see you again. Winter, spring, summer or fall all you got to do is call,
and I'll be there yeah yeah yeah, you got a friend"
	-JT

From hollombe@ttidca.TTI.COM Wed Nov 22 17:09:47 1989
From: hollombe@ttidca.TTI.COM (The Polymath)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: Home for the holidays
Date: 21 Nov 89 02:11:07 GMT
Reply-To: hollombe@ttidcb.tti.com (The Polymath)
Organization: The Cat Factory
Status: RO

Am I absolutely sure I want to do this?  Hell no!  But here goes, anyway ...

Through the door, quietly, comes a man with a scarred face.  Dark hair,
thinning and sprinkled with gray, dark eyes, 5'10" ~ 165, Levi's(tm) shirt
and jeans.

Up to the bar for a non-alcoholic beer. (Out of Norsk?  How about a
Moussy?  Yeah, Firestone's fine).  Drinking slowly, he surveys the room
and picks up on the conversations -- wincing at some of the puns.

And now, a toast:

     To free advice.  Guaranteed worth what you pay for it! <crash!>

Friends, I usually know better, but some old reflexes seem to have been
triggered tonight, so please bear with me.

In article <2351@gmu90x.gmu.edu> kaufman@gmu90x.UUCP (Ken Kaufman) writes:
}In article <42987@bu-cs.BU.EDU> austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin Ziegler) writes:
}>	"For the first time in my life, all 18 years of it, I'm not going
}>to be able to join my family for Thanksgiving.  Up until now, I have not
}>been scared about being away from home.  Now, however, the reality of how
}>far away I really am strikes hard.  I hate this.  I am going to spend this
}>upcoming weekend with a family that I know nothing more than they are my
}>Dad's cousins.  So, I feel very out of place.  It will not be the same
}>without my family.  I feel glad for everyone who can make it home over
}>Thanksgiving Weekend.  To you, I say 'feel compassionate for those of us
}>who cannot go home.'"
}>	He turns, "I am not easily scared or worried.  But now, I am both.

My sympathies, Austin.  It's part of growing up, and this won't be the
last time.  I know that doesn't make it easier, but it's true.  I'll bet
you've made some friends since leaving home.  Some of them may be as
lonely as you feel now.  Seek them out.  Enjoy their company.  To a great
extent, family is a state of mind.  You'll at least have each other to be
grateful for.

}"At least you've got one - a family, that is.  No, I've got one too, but
}we're all so different from one another, and the magic isn't quite there
}the way it was when I was your age.  Wait till you try being single and
}on your own and 28.  Then you'll know what living day-to-day without
}family is like.

Easy there, Ken.  I was on my own in a foreign country at 23, but that
doesn't make Austin's pain, or yours, any less real or painful.  I've
acquired and lost several families over the years -- none of them blood
relatives, but all good friends.  I still hear from them, now and then.
As I said, it's mostly a state of mind.

}But another consideration - this place is full of family, and so is the
}rest of the planet.  Relish the experience of meeting a few more.  And
}if Thursday's difficult, it's only one day.  Enjoy!  And don't forget to
}have the biggest turkey of a pun at the dinner table.

That's more like it!

Back to the bar for another brew, then off to a quiet corner seat where he
can see most of the place and the door.  Why?  That's another story ...

-- 
The Polymath (aka: Jerry Hollombe, hollombe@ttidca.tti.com)  Illegitimis non
Citicorp(+)TTI                                                 Carborundum
3100 Ocean Park Blvd.   (213) 452-9191, x2483
Santa Monica, CA  90405 {csun|philabs|psivax}!ttidca!hollombe

From wv6u@hoptoad.uucp Wed Nov 22 17:09:48 1989
From: wv6u@hoptoad.uucp (Steve Hawkins)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Holidays/family
Date: 21 Nov 89 14:56:06 GMT
Reply-To: wv6u@hoptoad.UUCP (Steve Hawkins)
Distribution: ca
Organization: Nebula Consultants in San Francisco
Status: RO


In article <42987@bu-cs.BU.EDU> austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin Ziegler) writes
>	"To family."  He then throws it into the fireplace in a fit of
>passion and the mug shatters noisily.  "Let me explain."
>	"For the first time in my life, all 18 years of it, I'm not going
>to be able to join my family for Thanksgiving.  Up until now, I have not
>been scared about being away from home.  Now, however, the reality of how
>far away I really am strikes hard.  I hate this.  I am going to spend this
>upcoming weekend with a family that I know nothing more than they are my
>Dad's cousins.  So, I feel very out of place.  It will not be the same
>without my family.  I feel glad for everyone who can make it home over
>Thanksgiving Weekend.  To you, I say 'feel compassionate for those of us
>who cannot go home.

^Well here's a dose of compassion with a chaser.  One of the hardest parts 
^about spending a year abroad was not being with my family for the holidays. 
^If you think Thanksgiving is bad, try Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's
^and all the other holidays that occur during the school year in a foreign
^country.  Not to put your difficulty down, I'm used to not being at home a
^lot, but let it be known that you are not alone.
^...more deleted....

When I was in the Navy, I was on a submarine and my first year at
sea we submerged off Guam just before Thanksgiving and stayed down
until Feb. 15th.  Enclosing Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christman, and
New Years.    It was a serious learning experience.  Steve Hawkins

From kathy@fps.com Wed Nov 22 17:09:48 1989
From: kathy@fps.com (the Rev. Mom)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: music <PUN ALERT>
Date: 19 Nov 89 23:34:56 GMT
Reply-To: kathy@fps.com (the Rev. Mom)
Organization: FPS Computing Inc., San Diego CA
Keywords: Pun warning
Status: O


 stockton@frith.egr.msu.edu (Ronald G Stockton) writes:
>  I like the idea of a contest to see who can come up with the worst
>music pun, but how would we measure the winner?

Phrase by phrase and note by note.

--Kathy Li aka the Rev. Mom
--
____Disclaimer:_*my*_opinions;_not_FPS's________kathy@fps.com____________
                              "You're responsible! 
Sondheim quote of the day:     You're the one to blame!   
(INTO THE WOODS)               It's YOUR FAULT!!"         

From kathy@fps.com Wed Nov 22 17:09:49 1989
From: kathy@fps.com (the Rev. Mom)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: YA First Visit. (longish)
Date: 20 Nov 89 00:06:37 GMT
Reply-To: kathy@fps.com (the Rev. Mom)
Distribution: alt
Organization: FPS Computing Inc., San Diego CA
Keywords: r.a.comics, callahan's.  A toast.
Summary: The Rev. Mom's arrived.
Status: O


    A bemused expression decorated her face as she brushed the
snow from her shoulders, took off her wimple and snapped a few
ice crystals off it.
   The brightness inside made her blink, and the warmth radiating
>from the huge fireplace (with it parabolic deflector) sank into
her bones.  
   Fast Eddie was on the tail-end of a jam so hot, the keys were
nearly smoking, while a man the size of a hippo up at the bar was
laughing so hard his stethoscope was under two fingers of Scotch.
   "Holy cow," she said.  "Callahan's.  I'd almost forgotten."
   She crammed the wimple into a coat pocket, and began working
on the coat buttons.  She found her wallet, and opened it up to
check.  
   "Aw, shit.  All I've got's a ten!"  
   The bill was plucked from her fingers by a passing seven-foot-
tall alien with a slight accent.
   "Please, Kathy, allow me.  I was about to get change for
myself and a number of others while Jake and Eddie rest between
sets."
   "Thanks, Mick." she said with a shy smile and a nod.  Mickey
Finn walked out the door, and headed for the all-night
convenience store across the street.  
    She glanced around the bar like someone blinking in the
sunshine after spending a week indoors.  She walked up to the
bar, and was met by friendly faces.  People waved, and she waved
back.  She curled up in a chair, and sat waiting at the bar.
    "Well, look who's here.  Hello, little girl." said Doc
Webster.  "What are you doing, sitting all by yourself?" He
fished his stethoscope out of his glass.
    "I'm waiting for Mickey Finn to come back with my change so's
I can have me a drink."
    The Doc got that gleam in his eye.
    "You know, things are different since you were last here. 
The owner of the all-night deli is now requiring purchases for
change."
    "You mean I've saleslipped a Mickey Finn?"
    "To coin a phrase.  Money's the time I've been gilt-y of
paying him a dirty trick but he never checks if he's been
shortchanged; it just doesn't register."
    "I can't credit it..."
     They were all stinkers, and Kathy was only getting one in
for every six of the Doc's, but by the time Finn got back with
the ones, they'd gotten four people to depart, holding their
noses.  Fast Eddie paid off the betting pool.
    "Hey, Kathy, s'been a long time since you walked through that
door." 
    "Hi, Callahan.  You know your front door's still cracked?"
she said with a :-).  "And when are you going to get that sign
lit with neon?"
    "When I start serving light beer." growled the solid mass of
Irish bartender with a grin and the last two inches of a well-
smoked cigar sticking from the corner of his mouth.  "What'll it
be?"
     She tugged off her gloves and sighed.  "Double tequila lime
salt."
     A few eyebrows raised at the blatant California-ism. 
Normally, she wasn't that tasteless.  They watched quietly as she
carefully salted her hand, licked it, downed the shot, and bit
into the wedge of lime.  She played with it, grimacing a dark-
green citrus-peel grin as she looked thoughtfully at the
chalkline on the floor.  She took the lime-peel out of her mouth,
stuck it in the empty shotglass, and walked up to the line, full
of purpose.
    "To understanding!"
     The glass made a satisfying amount of noise as it crashed
into the fireplace. 
     She stood there a while. Everyone sat quietly, ready to
listen like they always do at Callahan's.
     "I've just come from rec.arts.comics." she said by way of
explanation.  "A nice place all round.  We talk about our funny
books, and generally share our love of the stuff with mutual
respect and thoughtfulness.  It was a great place where people
*listened.*  Like here, y'know?"  
     She sighed.
     "Only recently, a brawl broke out.  Now, I like a good
donneybrook as much as the next woman, but this was turning into
serious stupidity, malice, and name-calling.  I got *this* close-
-" she held up her fingers, "to getting my butt singed from the
flames and my nose flattened from all the random bashing.  It's
like everybody's little switch was stuck on "send" and never hit
"receive."  And you know what the worst part was?  I was actually
joining in."
     People around the bar shuddered.
     "Luckily, I managed to stop at just bruising one good friend.  
But I don't really like it much.  I should've known better."
     A few people gave vocal protest to this needless wallowing in
guilt, and she smiled.
     "I know this phase'll pass from the group soon; it always does.  
They're all good people.  But I can't help but remember the halcyon 
days there, when you knew every face that walked through the door, 
and everybody understood everybody else..."
     "Well, I've had my say."
     She glanced around the bar with satisfaction.
     "And to think I wandered in here by accident.  I was just
trying out route-nn instead of route-rn, and ended up somewhere
near route-25A in Suffolk County.  It really is true that those
who need to find Callahan's do."
     A chorus of glass-breaking sang out from the fireplace.
  
     As Jake and Fast Eddie finished up the Fill-more, Kathy
walked up to the bar one last time, asked Hauptman for God's
Blessing, and after the warmth of the music, the coffee, and the
company had settled down to her toes, she smiled, and said to 
herself, "I think I'm coming back on Punday Night."

--Kathy Li aka the Rev. Mom
--
____Disclaimer:_*my*_opinions;_not_FPS's________kathy@fps.com____________

"There's not a word yet/ For old friends who've just met."

From egly@hplred.HP.COM Wed Nov 22 17:09:49 1989
From: egly@hplred.HP.COM (Diana Egly)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: Re: A Toast!
Date: 17 Nov 89 22:14:46 GMT
Organization: Hewlett Packard Labs, Palo Alto CA
Status: O

A not-so-young woman whose been sitting at a table in the corner walks over to
the bar.  She has short curly hair and is wearing a green on white Callahan's
tee-shirt (yes, this Callahan's) and sweatpants.  She has a dollar bill in her
hand and exchanges it for a lemon and water, with lots of lemon.  After
downing her drink, she hurls the glass to the fireplace and says, "To death
and to those who've left us behind".  She looks around her and sort of shrugs
a little before returning to her table.  She pulls a wooly sweater around her
and tucks one leg under herself as she sits.

My name's Diana -- like the goddess.

					Diana
					egly@hplabsz

From dc2o+@andrew.cmu.edu Wed Nov 22 17:09:50 1989
From: dc2o+@andrew.cmu.edu (David L. Chute)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: newcomer asking for favor....
Date: 21 Nov 89 17:12:06 GMT
Organization: Class of '92, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA
Status: O

well folks, I have a favor to ask, one that, if I knew where Callahan's
existed, I'd ask there....

but you folks seem to be the trusting sort ( just as Lazarus Long is
with that sweet smile on his face... uh, uh, my hand is on my
wallet.....)

"excuse me for yonning, I didn't get my next to last rights, I mean..."

(common complaint at CMU (Carnegie-Mellon University), no sleep)

the favor is this.... I have a friend here at CMU who is having a little
bit of self-doubt during her first semester here. She's a writing major,
and I think she writes good poetry. Somehow her teachers don't seem to
agree with me ( I think they can all go climb up a Trident II missle and
go ballistic) I need a second opinion (and the first person to send me a
seven-figure bill will receive wraith akin to Spider R. confronted with
the word "trilogy")

I'll post one of her poems, and I'd like to hear comments. If you don't
decide to respond, ok. Hope it gives you a moment of reading pleasure.
;-) If you do decide to respond, I'll try to respond back. 

Now, she doesn't know I'm doing this. She's kind-o-shy. That's ok,
there's no possible way that any depressing vulture-type comments can
reach her ( and vultures don't drink at an Irish bar, they're more the
type around the poison hole.....) If any sincere, truthful, caring,
honest, helpful (and other words ending in long Latin polysymbols)
comments pop up, I'll relay them to her. Hopefully she'll believe me
that I at least like her poetry.......

well, here goes, as the priest said to the young virgin........

Love and Spring

(copyright 5/89)

Love and Spring are the same budding flower 
Who orients her face on the young sun.
But all these are confined by time, and hour-
They wither and die, as soon as they've begun.
    If Spring were eternal, or buds didn't fade!
    Perhaps love could yet last, in endless dawn.
    But sunset comes; the earth is left in shade.
    Love and light fade form sight, and then are gone.
The sun leaves the earth alone, cold, and dark.
If even eath chills, how shall I endure 
When you, with sweet love, part from me? But hark!
Birds herald the dawn: light is here once more.
     For you, I'll taste even darkness's debt,
     Knowing a sunrise follows each sunset.



+-------------------------------------------------------------+
|                   David L. Chute                        
| >>dc2o+@andrew.cmu.edu                                  
+-------------------------------------------------------------+
|               Gaerdil Menelmacar                      
|  of the Barony-Marche of the Debatable Lands    
+-------------------------------------------------------------+
|  "I am, in no particular order, a Midn 3/C, a CCon, an  
| SCA fighter, a very nice guy, and in no particuar order 
+-------------------------------------------------------------+

From stadnism@image.soe!clutx.clarkson.edu Wed Nov 22 17:09:51 1989
From: stadnism@image.soe!clutx.clarkson.edu (Steven Stadnicki,9B23 Woodstock,2680000,5186432664)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Stuff I felt like saying
Date: 21 Nov 89 18:22:57 GMT
Reply-To: stadnism@clutx.clarkson.edu
Organization: Clarkson University, Potsdam, NY
Status: O

First of all, a hearty welcome to all the new people who've wandered in
since I left (especially the Rev. Mom; don't let the monkeys get you down,
Kathy; you're too good for them), and a hearty hello to all of you.  Herewith,
various ramblings on sundry topics:


Personas:  I had a speech all set out for this one, with waving flags and
bands playing in the background, but then I found someone who said it even
better than I did.  This is from a piece on what it means to be a member of
a rather small subset of fandom (I've put Xs in where the group's moniker
was mentioned, since it could apply to anyone):

14. Fine. So what do (X) do their personas? They communicate
through them. The definition of the persona determines how the (X)
will express themself. This can be quite different from how the actual
person does it. This may facilitate communication under circumstances 
in which the person would normally feel inhibited. 
 
15. In fact it has been claimed that, despite the impression one might
get about the persona as "putting on a mask", the use of the persona
actually enables a person to be more genuinely themselves. That's
because the persona has more freedom, not being subject to the
stifling layers that social convention puts on us mere humans. 
 

Alcohol, minors, and college:  I see nothing wrong with drinking responsibly
at any age, but don't expect me to do it (here or outside).  This may sound
odd, but I don't *like* the taste of alcohol that much.  Come to think of it,
I don't care for soda that much either.  How 'bout a mug of MacIntosh cider,
Mike? Rolf's, if you've got it... (chug) (wipe) ahh... (that's the nice thing
about an electronic bar; anything's available).  Feel free to drink here, but
I'm happy where I am too.


And finally, I'd like to say that I know exactly how Jen feels, too.  I wasn't
here last semester, I'm here now, and at this stage I honestly don't know if
I'll be here next semester; frankly, that scares the hell out of me.  I did
okay this spring, but I wouldn't want to do it again.  Unfortunately, even that
doesn't seem to be enough to jolt me out of the state I'm in.  I'm open to
suggestions...

A toast: to those of us who are lucky enough to be heading home for the
holidays, and to the hundreds (thousands?) who'll die trying.  Happy holidays,
folks.

<Crash>

           Steven Stadnicki
           stadnism@clutx.clarkson.edu

From gonzo@contact.uucp Wed Nov 22 17:09:52 1989
From: gonzo@contact.uucp (Gonzo Tog)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Alt.Callahans? Mind explaining?
Date: 21 Nov 89 18:02:50 GMT
Reply-To: gonzo@contact.UUCP (Gonzo Tog)
Distribution: na
Organization: Contact Public Unix BBS. Toronto, Canada.
Status: O


Would someone mind explaining to me the purpose of this section?
 
G.
 
     ____                        ____       
    |\   |______________________|   /|     |  "Ever will a coward shew
    | \_   "In Gonzo We Truste"   _/ |     |   no mercy."
    |__ \/                      \/ __|     |       - Sir Thomas Malory.
       |      /\      _______)    |        |  
  - -  |     /  \    (   |        |  - -   |  "Make a coward fight, and
   O   |    /    \       |        |   O    |   he will kill the devil."
       |   <             |        |        |       - Anonymous.
       |    \   \        |        |        |  
  - -  |     \   |       |        |  - -   |  "You want me to what?"
   O   |      \  |       |  )     |   O    |       - Gonzo Tog.
       |       \/|   O    \/  O   |        |
       |         |                |        | --   gonzo@contact.UUCP   --
     __|    ____/            \    |__      | 
    |\      \________________/      /|     |     Jason Phillips is the      
    | \_/ ______________________ \_/ |     |       the one and only
    |____|                      |____|     |         Gonzo Z. Tog.

From jwbirdsa@phoenix.Princeton.EDU Wed Nov 22 17:09:53 1989
From: jwbirdsa@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (James Webster Birdsall)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Toast
Date: 21 Nov 89 17:36:03 GMT
Organization: Princeton University, NJ
Status: O


   Gradually people begin to notice that somebody is patiently waiting
in front of the fireplace to make a toast. He's very tall and wearing a
bright green jacket; not normally the sort of person one would overlook.
But somehow nobody saw him walk up there, except maybe Mike, who must
have seen him because he's got a glass in his hand.
   When the hubbub dies, he begins to speak.
   "I'll get around to the toast in a minute, but first I have a couple
things to say, concerning some of the conversations that have been going
on recently.  
   "A couple of you have registered objections to personas. I tend to
agree that the purpose of this Place is to get to the real person, but
personas are not horrible things and should be allowed if they're
clearly marked. Furthermore, some people are not distinguishble from
personas. 
   "For example, nobody noticed me walk up here. That's easy enough to
do on a computer network, but I could probably have done it in real
life. Some days, even my friends can't see me. It started as a survival
trait in high school (if nobody knows you're there, they can't give you
any shit), but now it's a pain. Anyway, to finish the digression,
invisibility is NOT part of a persona, it's part of ME.
   "Concerning the recent discussion of family and holidays: I will
admit that spending a holiday alone sucks. But, for some of us, going
home is hardly better. Miss Doyle, I understand very well what you mean
about grades. I'm not doing as well as I'd like, but I'm doing as well
as I literally can. This is not a concept my parents seem to be able to
understand. I tell them, 'There are limits to what I can do' and they
say 'But you can do better than that.' Maybe I could, if I sacrificed
everything -- no friends, no time off, nothing -- and worked
continuously. And then they have the unmitigated gall to tell me that I
should enjoy myself!
   "Having dealt with this for many, many years now, I have learned to
ignore them. I go home, I keep my mouth shut, and I leave as soon as I
can. I'm hoping to find a job out on the west coast, so I will have the
entire width of the United States insulating me from them.
   "Well, enough tirade. On with the toast...
   "To it's not being any worse than it is!"
   He swigs the contents of the glass and tosses it in.
   "Allow me to explain that. As you may have gathered, I'm not exactly
a happy puppy. Most of my problems are social; one, my parents, and two,
women. I have a plan in place and running to deal with my parents: get
as far away as possible. That problem was actually pretty easy. The
second seems to be insoluble. This leads to a certain amount of chronic
depression...
   "But then I begin to wonder. For example, when I was feeling
catastrophically bad a couple years ago, I ran across a guy (on BITNET)
who had been thrown out by his parents at 15, had no particular job
skills, his health was going down the tubes and he couldn't afford to go
to a doctor. Now there's somebody who's in trouble. What right do I have
to feel hard done by when I'm so much better off than he is?
   "Or consider all the starving people and the homeless. I'm going to
one of the finest (and most expensive) educational institutions in the
world and I'm not doing badly. Not as well as I'd like, but not badly.
I'm warm and comfortable and well-fed. My idea of broke is having only
$200 to last me until about February. I'm thoroughly covered by medical
insurance. I have ever chance of getting a well-paid job that I'll like.
   "So, what right do I have to feel bad when I've got more than many
people will ever have?
   "And thus it is that I toast life: I may not like it, but it could
surely be worse!"
   "Well, that's it. Sorry about going on so long -- what is it, two and
a half screens now? -- but that's something I've been wanting to say for
a long time."
   He turns and heads back to the bar.

   
-- 
James W. Birdsall  jwbirdsa@phoenix.Princeton.EDU  jwbirdsa@pucc.BITNET
   ...allegra!princeton!phoenix!jwbirdsa   Compu$erve: 71261,1731
"For it is the doom of men that they forget." -- Merlin

From jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU Wed Nov 22 17:09:53 1989
From: jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: warm fuzzies story (no puns)
Date: 22 Nov 89 00:33:32 GMT
Reply-To: jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle)
Distribution: alt.callahans
Organization: or, conversely, Chaos:
Status: O

Yay! Someone else knows the warm fuzzy story! It's not quite the version I 
know (I tell it with a happier ending :-) but hey, isn't that what telling 
stories is all about? I told it to a group of kindergarteners with a felt
board and felt shapes, and they loved it.

Mike, a root beer for me and another hot chocolate for Gilly, please.

"To caring!"  <crash>

Jen



-- 
                         "I can't -- I have rehearsal."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
   Jennifer Doyle   //   Princeton  '92   //   jmdoyle@phoenix.princeton.edu  
Disclaimer: I am a student, I represent the future.

From jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU Wed Nov 22 17:09:54 1989
From: jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: to family (?)
Date: 22 Nov 89 00:49:32 GMT
Reply-To: jmdoyle@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Jennifer Mary Doyle)
Distribution: usa
Organization: or, conversely, Chaos:
Status: O

In<4ZODAXe00V48MG_Esl@andrew.cmu.edu> gh1g+@andrew.cmu.edu (Gregg) writes:
>Jen,
>I printed out your post, to show it to my parents, to show 'em its not
>just me.  Reading that I thought it was myself speaking. 

Yep, you're not alone. I've certainly found that out in the past few days.
(Thanks Rev. Mom :-) I hope it helped your parents to understand, too.

>"I'm missing some sort of
>drive" "I love to read, but academia gets to me". You sure you're not
>me?  Nah, couldn't be. 

Hmm. Do you have a long lost sister perhaps?  :-)

>Gregg (another soul in the wind)
Jen (occasionally known as Ria)

"when you're down, and troubled, and you need a helping hand, and
nothing, oh nothing is going right, close your eyes and think of me, and
soon I will be there, to brightnen up even your darkest day. You just
call out my name, and you know, wherever I am, I'll coming running, to
see you again. Winter, spring, summer or fall all you got to do is call,
and I'll be there yeah yeah yeah, you got a friend"
	-JT

A James Taylor quote! That proves what I said earlier (I believe it is 
originally a Madeline L'Engle sentiment) that your family is not determined
solely by blood. 

Mike, a round for everyone on me. I'll take a Mexican hot chocolate, and I
believe the Rev. Mom will too.


-- 
                         "I can't -- I have rehearsal."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
   Jennifer Doyle   //   Princeton  '92   //   jmdoyle@phoenix.princeton.edu  
Disclaimer: I am a student, I represent the future.

From t-phils@microsoft.UUCP Wed Nov 22 17:09:54 1989
From: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Renaissance Man)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: No longer lurking in the corner
Date: 22 Nov 89 02:19:51 GMT
Reply-To: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Renaissance Man)
Organization: Microsoft Corp., Redmond WA
Status: O


After the most recent sounds of glass in the fireplace have died away
to the noise of background conversation, a young-looking man gets up
>from a corner table (nobody noticed him come in) and walks up to the
bar.  He is of average height, lightly built, wearing a black casual
shirt and faded bluejeans.  Dark brown hair hangs several inches below
his shoulders; his beard is neatly trimmed.  He doesn't stand out much.
He pulls out a wallet, extracts two singles, and carefully places them
on the bar.
"A Bailey's, please...   and a shot of Stolichnaya."
He takes the two glasses, gazes meditatively at them for a moment, then
slowly drinks the Bailey's in several small sips; obviously enjoying the
taste, but with an abstracted look.  His steps bring him about a yard
short of the line as he finishes it, and he pauses for a moment before
looking into the fireplace.  Raising the empty glass, he says quietly,
"To invisibility..."
<CRASH!>
"...and distance!"
He pauses a moment.
"Did you ever get the feeling that you're invisible, or transparent,
or something?  That everyone just looks through you, or past you?  It
can get you to wondering if you're real sometimes.  We're all human
beings, right?"  He pauses, looking around the room.
"Ah...  correction - we're all _PEOPLE_.  All of us.  Each of us with
our own lives, and our own dreams, and our own feelings, damn it!"  He
looks around, maybe a little flushed.
"Why is it that sometimes, it just seems like everyone looks at you
like a fixture, a piece of furniture or something?  Sometimes I wonder
whether my family was aware that I was part of it.  I felt more like
the family pet sometimes."  He pauses again, looking uncomfortable.
"But that's not what I meant..."  He stops for several seconds, deep
in thought.
"I've spent enough of my life on my own that I'm pretty sick of it.
Sick enough of it to just sit out the rest of the game.  But I don't
give up easy.  On anything."  He looks up, almost defiantly.
"So finally I meet a woman who makes me feel as though it's all worth
the wait...  a woman I'd have been happy to wait nearly half my life
for...  and you know what?"  He raises the still-full vodka glass in
his left hand, and downs it in one shot.
"She lives TWO THOUSAND MILES AWAY!  To distance, damn it all to hell!"
<CRASH!>

He glares after the shards of glass for a second, then shakes his head
and returns to his table, by way of the bar (depositing another dollar
in exchange for another glass of Bailey's).


-- 
Phil Stracchino           |  Knight of the Ancient and Honorable Order
Renaissance Man at Large  |            of the Rampant Turtle
t-phils@microsoft.UUCP    |       "A Good Knight is Hard to Find"
uunet!microsoft!t-phils   |  Not just a .signature - a way of life....

