From hildebrd@cs.swarthmore.edu Wed Dec 6 20:04:37 1989 From: hildebrd@cs.swarthmore.edu (Jeff Hildebrand) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Yet another toast + an introduction. Date: 3 Dec 89 19:14:15 GMT Reply-To: hildebrd@cs.swarthmore.edu () Organization: CS Dept., Swarthmore College, PA Status: O A figure never before seen in Callahan's peered in through the doorway looking uncertain. A few friendly smiles from the patrons already assembled gave him some confidence and he moved up to the bar and placed a single on the bar. He looked thoughtful for a moment then told Mike, "Only one thing for it to be. Let me have root beer, that's what's it's got to be." There were a few raised eyebrows. Root beer was a common drink among the college students who visited the place, but the form of the request was quite unusual. After a few minutes he rose and walked up to the chalk line. "I have a tale to tell" he said slowly. "It is a tale with humor, with sadness, with love, with grief. And yet, for all that, it involves only 5 people. I have been holding in this story for a long time. I finally feel there's someone I can trust to tell it to." "It started very simply. There were four of us. We were about a month >from finishing off our freshman year at college. One night we were all logged onto the computer at the same time and were chatting. Someone suggested ordering a pizza, but since we were scattered all over campus at the time it seemed kinda difficult. However someone suggested that we head up to a computer lab in the science building, and that's what we did, where we were joined by our fifth, an employee there who had graduated the year before and so was a freshman in life. That's all there was at the time. We enjoyed ourselves enormously and decided to do this every Wednesday night. Being SF fans, we called it FreshCon. Oh, yeah" he paused to hoist his glass. "For some reason, root beer was our drink of choice at that time. "We had a lot in common, it rather surprising that we weren't already close friends, but even on a small campus sometimes it takes a long time for similar people to really get to know each other. This was what it took. Of the four students, there were three men and one woman. It was spring, we were having fun, and it was inevitable what happened. "Relationships are what happened. She started going out with one of the other men, then broke up. A few days before the fifth and final gathering, she and I talked and a start at a relationship was made there. Then came the wild, crazy summer." He stopped. It was clear from his eyes that the memories were painful, but the listeners knew it would do him good to tell it, so they waited. Finally he resumed. "Last spring, a friend of mine had told me that I was incredibly innocent emotionally. That was changed. I admit it. I had for the first time in my life fallen wildly in love. But the old relationship between her and the other guy sprang back up. We had a triangle going. After many reversals, it looked like things were going to be all right for me. Then, the final devestating reversal came on a Monday morning, and I was alone. "As I suspected, those two didn't last the summer. And come fall, well, she and I tried it again. I don't know what happened. I don't think there are any easy answers to that. I guess the scars of the summer were just too strong or something. Anyway, before long, she had started something with the third male student from our previously merry bunch, then broke up with me. "So here I stand. The closely knit circle we wove last spring has disintegrated. We still occasionally have the Wednesday night gatherings, but we've been evicted from the computer lab, and there are other people involved. It's different. Last spring the important thing was the people, we were there for each other. Now it's more what we do during these times. The ever shifting social life goes on. The two other men have started up something with other people, but I'm still alone. "I think back on all the pain that it wound up causing me. The doubts, the fears, and the deep, deep hurt I encountered. I wonder if it was worth it. But then I think about the good times; those magic nights and some of the joyous moments later. They were few in number, but they were wonderful. So... "To FreshCon! " He turned, sat down in one of the ubiquitous armchairs, and slowly lowered his chin onto his folded arms on the table. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I've been reading this group since it started, but I haven't really joined in until now. Thanks to Gilly, Jen and the other who have talked so freely. You've given me courage to get this off my chest. You are not alone. As for a little introduction. Name: Jeff Hildebrand Job: student, Swarthmore College Age: 19 Height: 6' Weight: 140# Hair: Dark brown, shoulder length and growing. Academic interests: Looking likely to be a math major with a physics minor, but with other interests, including Russian studies. Hobbies: Trying to think up excuses for avoiding work. :) Reading comic books and science fiction. Fannish activities, especially filking. Activities: SWIL (Swarthmore Warders of Imaginative Literature), drama - on stage and radio broadcast Favorite TV shows: Doctor Who, Blake's 7, Black Adder (no, I'm not British :) Favorite movies: Young Frankenstein, Princess Bride, Dead Poet Society And in general, I'm just a confused, muddled up guy trying to make it through the semester battling the usual sophomore slump. -Jeff -- ******************Still in search of the good closing line***************** Jeff Hildebrand Swarthmore College, Swarthmore PA 19081 JDH92@campus.swarthmore.edu (prefered) or hildebrd@cs.swarthmore.edu From cse@pawl.rpi.edu Wed Dec 6 20:04:37 1989 From: cse@pawl.rpi.edu (Christopher S. Eplett) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: alt.callahans--where we stand Date: 4 Dec 89 17:28:11 GMT Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy NY Status: O In article <1989Dec4.014345.8008@sun.soe.clarkson.edu> stadnism@clutx.clarkson.edu writes: >whose idea was alt.callahans, >anyway? I believe that the 'blame' for this can be placed squarely upon the shoulders of one fargo@pawl.rpi.edu ( Ethan Young ) Way to go, Ethan! Opus "Chris Eplett" Croakus cse@pawl.rpi.edu -- ude.ipr.lwap@esc ,ttelpE ttocS rehpotsirhC _:REMIALCSID_ !!ti daer t'nac llits uoy ,rorrim a ot pu erutangis. siht dloh uoy fI From gilly@bucsf.bu.edu Wed Dec 6 20:04:39 1989 From: gilly@bucsf.bu.edu (Gilly Rosenthol) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Thanks! Date: 4 Dec 89 17:50:04 GMT Reply-To: gilly@bucsf.bu.edu (Gilly Rosenthol) Distribution: alt Organization: Boston University Status: O As the door begins to open, a playful gust of wind pulls it faster than the woman behind can follow. She is tugged off her feet, and lands, laughing, on the floor. The wind's mood seems to match her own. There is snow in her brown hair, and all that can be seen of her face above the scarf she wears are a pair of laughing hazel eyes, eyes that look a hell of a lot happier than the last time she was here. As she gets up from the floor and brushes the snow from the seat of her pants, Gilly feels the warmth and magic of the Place wash over her. She sees so many concerned people looking to see how she is doing, people with problems of their own who still take time to care about others. As usual, it takes her quite a while to get to the bar. She has to stop to touch noses with a wolf, pick up a teddy bear, and share hugs with a few of the silent lurkers as well as some of the more vocal patrons. And if you've ever seen someone try to hug a shadow, let alone a flaming mythical bird, well, it's quite a sight. She finally makes it to the bar, and pulls a large wad of fresh one-dollar bills from a pocket. "Drinks for everyone, on me!" she cries. "It's certainly not enough to pay you all back for what you did for me, but it's a start." When everyone has a glass in his or her hand (or paw, or whatever) they turn to Gilly and wait expectantly for her toast. "To the first law of Callahan's - Shared joy is increased; shared pain, diminished. It's so very true." And with a last loving look at the people around her, she drains the glass and hurls it into the fireplace. A cry of "Amen!" fills the air, and a barrage of glasses fills the fireplace. When the room settles down again, Gilly finds herself at a table with the group of people describing themselves. "I like that - it would be nice to have a better mental image of what the people here are like. Me, I'm 5'3", about 125 pounds. I have brown hair with a bit of a perm, about shoulder length. My eyes are a sort of mixture of green, brown, and gold best described as hazel, and thy're pretty close to blind - 20/200 without my contacts. I'm a junior here at Boston U, majoring in psychology and minoring in women's studies. Hobbies - let's see. I like listening to and playing music - I'm going to have to bring in my guitar one of these days, but who can compete with Jake and Lady MacBeth? And I like to sing. I suppose computers are a hobby, and drama, and definitely reading. I like some SF, Heinlein and Spider especially. My favorite TV shows are Sesame Street and Night Court. Would it give you some idea of what I'm like if I told you I always carry around in my backpack Silly Putty, bubbles, a yoyo, and a stuffed Snuffleupagus? My theme song seems to be "I Won't Grow Up". Can't think of much else right now, so I'll sit back and let someone else have a chance to speak - for a change." -- +--------------------+-------------------------------------------------------+ | Gilly Rosenthol |"Don't dream it, be it" -The Rocky Horror Picture Show | | gilly@bucsb.bu.edu |"On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. | | | L'essentiel est invisible aux yeux." -Le Petit Prince | +--------------------+-------------------------------------------------------+ From t-phils@microsoft.UUCP Wed Dec 6 20:04:40 1989 From: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (Count Zero, minus one) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Soulmates and exiles Date: 4 Dec 89 19:16:45 GMT Reply-To: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (Alaric of Dare) Organization: Microsoft Corp., Redmond WA Status: O Gilly Rosenthol writes: | The door opens slowly, and Gilly glumly walks in. | Looking down at the glass, she | says with a quiet intensity, "Do soulmates really exist? I wonder. | Greywolf says he's found his, and that gives me some hope, but *where | the hell is mine*? Alright, I'm only twenty, and I know that's young. | But dammit, there are times when I feel so damned alone. I don't | understand it. "Sometimes, we're all alone." The voice comes from the armored figure at the table with Magyk and Jilara. "`Sometimes' is just more often for some of us than others. For what it's worth, I don't understand it either. Though I doubt that's much consolation..." He shrugs. "I am sorry, please forgive me for interrupting you - I was thinking out loud. I am afraid I do so sometimes; it is a habit of mine." A rueful smile. "Since my - shall I say - mortal alter-ego, Phil, has selected me to represent him here, I suppose I should introduce myself. To remain incognito would be impolite. I am Alaric ap Kernovan, of the House of Dare, fourth of the line to bear that name... but none of that means anything much now, least of all here. Please, friends, just call me Alaric." | I'm a nice person, got a decent sense of humor, I'm | fairly attractive - you would think I could find someone. But the | last time I had a real boyfriend was two years ago, and that only | lasted for a month. I miss that intimacy so much. I have friends I | can talk to, but it's just not the same." She sighs, and a tear rolls | down her cheek. "Bloody hell. I'm sorry - no, I *won't* apologize | for my feelings. It just - sort of builds up on you sometimes, | y'know? Oh, I'll be alright in a little while. I just made the | mistake last night of watching a romantic movie alone. Not the | smartest thing I've ever done. I had a good cry, and got a lot of it | out of my system, but it seems there's still some left I had to let | out. Thanks for listening, guys." She smiles wanly, and throws the | glass into the fireplace with more force than one would have thought | she possessed. "To soulmates - and finding them soon." She walks | quietly over to a table, rests her head on her arms, and prepares | herself for a quiet cry among friends. "Sometimes, being good to people - having a sense of humor - being attractive - all of these things, and more, are sometimes not enough. I can vouch for that from my own experience. If I had a gold piece for every time I've been told I would make a wonderful husband _for someone else_ - or words to that effect - then at the very least, I'd be wearing boots that didn't leak. Not that I'm one of those who seeks gold above all else, you understand." He takes a sip of his brandy. "Gilly, you aren't alone, believe me. I have lived twenty nine years - though often it feels a hundred times that number - and I, too, am alone. I have been so for all but three of those years (and if the truth be told, more than half of that three years was but a hollow shadow of a relationship). You're right, it builds up, until no matter how much you tell yourself that you won't, you clutch at straws that you know won't support you - just to have something to clutch at." He smiles ruefully, bitterly. "I don't have any answers - if I did, it might be a different persona sitting in this chair right now. But for what it's worth, - I think I can safely speak for all of us here - for what it's worth, we understand." He stands, and takes a few steps towards the center of the room. "I'll second your toast, Gilly... to soulmates, and to finding them soon - if they exist - even the exiles among us. No - _especially_ the exiles. Gods, we've waited long enough." He hurls the silver goblet violently into the fireplace, and as it leaves his hand it shimmers for a moment, reverting to the brandy glass it started out as. It flies through the dancing flames, to shatter unseen at the back of the fireplace. He stands looking after it for a moment, then turns and heads for the bar, producing another silver coin from a small leather pouch. "Another of the same, Mike, if you would be so kind..." -- Phil Stracchino Philosopher. Poet. Console cowboy. Technogeek. Human being. (And if you believe that, I have this bridge in Brooklyn for sale, cheap...) From fargo@pawl.rpi.edu Wed Dec 6 20:04:41 1989 From: fargo@pawl.rpi.edu (Irwin M. Fargo) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: alt.callahans--where we stand Date: 4 Dec 89 22:14:21 GMT Organization: Fargo HQ, Inc. Status: O In article <9|_6Z&@rpi.edu> cse@pawl.rpi.edu (Christopher S. Eplett) writes: >In article <1989Dec4.014345.8008@sun.soe.clarkson.edu> stadnism@clutx.clarkson.edu writes: >>whose idea was alt.callahans, >>anyway? > > I believe that the 'blame' for this can be placed squarely > upon the shoulders of one fargo@pawl.rpi.edu ( Ethan Young ) > > Way to go, Ethan! > > Opus "Chris Eplett" Croakus > cse@pawl.rpi.edu > Ok. I give. But I must make it absolutely clear right now that I created this group indirectly only. The real blame falls on Christopher Davis. And, as I'm sure you've been waiting for, here is the explanation. One of my friends here at RPI lent me his copy of _Callahan's Crosstime Saloon_ by Spider Robinson. I thoroughly enjoyed the book. In fact, not only did I enjoy it, but the themes in the book made me think hard and made me realize that with all my math, logic, science, and whatnot, that I was missing another very important factor: people. This realization hit me at about 5:30 am sometime in early November 1989. (Just as I closed the book in fact) So, I pulled meself out of bed, walked over to my computer, logged onto the Suns here at RPI, and posted my proposal for a newsgroup (at that time) called talk.troubles. Well, while the discussion was going on about talk.troubles, Christopher left a nice short message which said simply: All right! I've had enough! I'm newgrouping alt.callahans! And thus it was. I'm still carrying out the creation procedures for talk.troubles (although now it's called talk.problems). In fact, the second call for votes should be passing through here soon. Well, I hope that clears up alot of stuff. If you have any more questions, please send me or Christopher mail (I don't think he'd mind. Would you Chris?). Thanks, Ethan Young -- Thank you and happy hunting! Actually: Ethan M. Young ____ [> SB <] "Travel IS life" Internet: fargo@pawl.rpi.edu /__ -=>??<=- - Irwin M. Fargo Bitnet (??): usergac0@rpitsmts.bitnet / ARGO : 3000 years of regression from the year 4990 From jde@unify.uucp Wed Dec 6 20:04:42 1989 From: jde@unify.uucp (Jeff Evarts) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Personal Info Date: 4 Dec 89 16:56:41 GMT Reply-To: jde@unify.UUCP (Jeff Evarts) Organization: Unify Corporation, Sacramento, CA, USA Keywords: personal stats Summary: 1 vote against Status: O This isn't a toast, so I won't resort to storytelling. I'm just putting in my unasked-for two cents worth, but I really don't care for the "personal stats" postings. I mean, I listen, and I try to read _all_ of each posting, and several of you have recieved mail from me, and I from you, but I think that personal info like that posted here is best relegated to email, where it can be more tightly focused. Ahh well, it's just one man's opinion. Thanks for listening... -Jeff Evarts --sequent!unify!jde From jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu Wed Dec 6 20:04:43 1989 From: jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu (Jeffrey Young) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Enemy Mine and Genericon VI Date: 5 Dec 89 01:40:41 GMT Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy NY Summary: Sci-Fi Convention Status: O In article <1989Dec4.140758.19391@sun.soe.clarkson.edu> stadnism@clutx.clarkson.edu writes: >From article <3208@hub.UUCP>, by snoopy@fig.ucsb.edu (Smith, Jamie Lynn): >> In article <25758F2F.1FA3@rpi.edu> hammer@pawl.rpi.edu (James A. Damour) writes: >>>favorite movies: Ladyhawke, Princess Bride, Parenthood, Enemy Mine Yes to the first two, haven't seen the third but the fourthis the point of interest.. If anyone is a real Barry Longyear (the author who wrote the short story that turned into the novella that turned into the novel that turned into the movie, Enemy Mine *whew*) fan, we have him as a Guest of Honor at Genericon VI, RPI (Rennselaer Polytech. Inst) in January.. (the 26th-28th to be exact..) Need more info? mail damour@pawl.rpi.edu or me... -- "You are blue, Unicorn.. the Blue of clear, cloudless days where everything seems like it's going right and nothing could go wrong.. and the Blue of despair and lonliness." jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu From jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu Wed Dec 6 20:04:44 1989 From: jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu (Jeffrey Young) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Soulmates and exiles Date: 5 Dec 89 02:19:59 GMT Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy NY Status: O The Unicorn shakes his head sadly at the mention of soulmates. "Aye, Gilly, you are not alone in your search. I too, seek for one whom I do not know -- one whose soul matches mine. I hope that she is out there still, and hasn't given up on finding me yet. You can only wait, and hope.. (and pray, if you'tr religious) I'm sure we can both agree that when we do find our opposites, that it will have been (almost -8) ) worth the wait." "We are but souls drifting in the void: it is inevitable that some of us wil eventually run into each other." --a quote by an author whose name slips my mind..but the message is that you will meet the one..and hopefully he won't be already taken! Stands to reason if you are strong-willed, so should he be, since he is your match.." "In my case, I might be in trouble. I would sacrifice myself for someone who truly needed me, rather than see her suffer where I could not help. Those whom I hold while they cry, however, I hold myself away from, asking nothing in return for the comfort I give." "My double might have been trapped by one she helped.." The Unicorn's gaze clouds over, and grows vacant. "I hope not.." "Perhaps some of you don't believe in soulmates.. I do.." -Taldin -- "You are blue, Unicorn.. the Blue of clear, cloudless days where everything seems like it's going right and nothing could go wrong.. and the Blue of despair and lonliness." jefyoung@pawl.rpi.edu From ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu Wed Dec 6 20:04:46 1989 From: ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: alt.callahans--where we stand Date: 5 Dec 89 04:03:58 GMT Reply-To: ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) Organization: Boston University School of Management In-reply-to: fargo@pawl.rpi.edu's message of 4 Dec 89 22:14:21 GMT Status: O In article stadnism@clutx.clarkson.edu writes: > whose idea was alt.callahans, anyway? In article <9|_6Z&@rpi.edu> cse@pawl.rpi.edu (Christopher S. Eplett) writes: > I believe that the 'blame' for this can be placed squarely > upon the shoulders of one fargo@pawl.rpi.edu ( Ethan Young ) >>>>> On 4 Dec 89 22:14:21 GMT, fargo@pawl.rpi.edu (Irwin M. Fargo) said: > Ok. I give. > But I must make it absolutely clear right now that I created this group > indirectly only. The real blame falls on Christopher Davis. AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE "Hey! Someone get this 'real blame' offa me already!" > And, as I'm sure you've been waiting for, here is the explanation. [Irwin finds the Place, discovers that people are important, and...] > This realization hit me at about 5:30 am sometime in early November > 1989. (Just as I closed the book in fact) So, I pulled meself out of > bed, walked over to my computer, logged onto the Suns here at RPI, and > posted my proposal for a newsgroup (at that time) called talk.troubles. > Well, while the discussion was going on about talk.troubles, Christopher > left a nice short message which said simply: > All right! I've had enough! I'm newgrouping alt.callahans! > And thus it was. This was, BTW, my third try at creating it. The first two times, I put out feelers in alt.config and rec.arts.sf-lovers, and got basically no response, figured nobody particularly cared, and punted. This time I basically said "Oh, the heck with it, no better time, etc etc" and created the thing (finally). I'm glad I did. Seeing people get together like this--open up like this--*care*, just reach out and *be there*--it's magic. From the foreword to _Time Travelers Strictly Cash_: " '...*any* bar can be Callahan's Place, as soon as responsible people start hanging out there together. You'd be surprised how many sons of bitches believe people only care about each other in books.'" --Spider Robinson quoting Mike Callahan > Well, I hope that clears up alot of stuff. If you have any more questions, > please send me or Christopher mail (I don't think he'd mind. Would you > Chris?). I believe the term is "hell, no!" I love getting e-mail, though I'm sometimes too busy to return it promptly. And I'm always here to listen-- after all, "that's what friends are for" to quote one of my favorite songs. Hit it, Eddie. > Thanks, > Ethan Young Thanks, yet again, to all of ya. You listened when I needed you, an' for that there's no way to repay. "To listening, to caring, to loving one another even when you've never met." *CRASH* [followed by a bunch of scribbled notes on line printer paper, having to do with propagations and ftp sites and the like] "This... administrivia... isn't what the place is really about. I think it's neat, but hey, I'm a statistics nerd anyway. Perhaps I'll tag them in the Subject: line from now on. :-) "Hey, I can speak smileys. Must be that Callahan's magic at work again. Well, whatever it is, I like it." With that, he/I (insert appropriate person depending on whether you like first or third person stories :-) walks over to where Gilly sits and gives her a backrub as he discusses pointers with an ex-beagle. -- Christopher Davis, BU SMG '90 "Many verbal attacks are part of someone's aim to establish their rank in a dominance hierarchy, the same sort of behavior common among nesting fowl." --Daniel Mocsny From t-phils@microsoft.UUCP Wed Dec 6 20:04:50 1989 From: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Eternal Stranger) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Soulmates, exiles, life, the Universe, everything... Date: 5 Dec 89 04:08:44 GMT Reply-To: t-phils@microsoft.UUCP (the Eternal Stranger) Organization: Microsoft Corp., Redmond WA Keywords: Life sucks Summary: Is there some point to this game? Status: O No persona this time. Some things, it's kind of tough to put into a persona's mouth. This is me, the real Phil, the easy-to-overlook guy at the back corner table. (I _think_ I'm real - I feel it when I pinch myself. Sometimes I wonder, though...) Life's been rough lately. Life's been rough for a long time. Most of the time I think I deal with it pretty well; sometimes - like now, for instance - I'm not so sure. (I guess I should get a drink if I'm going to stand here jawing at you all? Don't know if I'll get around to a toast or not... I'm just kind of rambling. Better give me one anyway... let me take a Bailey's, Mike.. thanks.) Like I said, life's been rough, and to tell the truth I'm getting more than a little tired of it. But it's the only game in town, so what do you do? There isn't any place else to go. So you keep on - no, don't let me de-personalize this. _I_ keep on trying to figure life out, and every time I think I've got some part of it figured out, some joker changes the rules. Or I find that I had the rulebook upside down. Or something. (I should stay away from the metaphors, shouldn't I?) I'm 29, and I've spent basically all my life alone. I was never really all that close even to my parents - something to do with spending a long time in hospital at a very young and impressionable age. By the time I was finally discharged, I didn't recognize my parents. I thought they were two strangers coming to take me away from the place where I lived, which to me was the hospital. I never really got close to anyone else since then, either - I never learned how. There's some things that you never really learn properly - at the instinctive level you need to know them at - unless you learn them at certain times of your life, and I spent most of those times in hospitals. Well, sooner or later, I learned - or started to learn. I tried to learn. I think if I'd been learning in a formal class, I'd have flunked out, badly. Even now I'm still not really too sure about how to deal with people. Jilara had it right when she spoke of being an exile... I couldn't honestly claim to feel like I belong to the human race. I feel like the human race gave me the bum's rush about 15 or 20 years ago. 'Course, I'm feeling pretty burned-out and generally stressed right now, so that may not be a fair judgement. Sure seems to fit the facts, though. To cut a long story short, what little I learned didn't really get me too far. I'm sick and tired of being alone, but I can't do anything about it, and if I don't try to do anything - if I just let things happen - then either nothing happens, or something looks just enough like it's happening to get me off my guard, then it all blows up in my face. Somewhere, I think some b@*&%$d is laughing. Personally, I don't see the joke. Gilly, take my word for it, 20 years is nothing. You haven't even gotten started yet, and you've already found the Place. (I wish there'd been a Callahan's here - and I'd had access to it - when I was 20.) Well, I've been composing this on and off all day, and I've pretty much lost track of what I was trying to say... if I ever knew in the first place, which I'm not at all sure I did. Don't worry if I don't make too much sense, it happens all the time lately. To be honest, I feel about ready to just fall apart in a corner somewhere. I ought to quit wasting your time until I figure out something that makes some kind of sense to say. I'm not doing too much here right now except moving air around... Oh by the way, Jilara, I got your most recent message. I sent a reply back by the same path, and also by two other paths, and I noted in each one which path I used... if any/all of them get through, let me know which one. If none of them got through, we'll have to try another path... the three paths I tried today are: jilara1=uunet!motcsd!fsdcupt!jane@apple.COM jilara2=uunet!jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM jilara3=uunet!apple.com!motcsd!fsdcupt!jane (that's extracted directly from my mailer initialization file.) Hopefully, at least one of them will work... ...I suppose I should do something with this glass, shouldn't I? "To life... would whoever has the instruction book PLEASE pass it around?" (hope I hit the fireplace) Now if you'll excuse me, I think I need a chair to collapse in... -- Phil Stracchino Philosopher. Poet. Console cowboy. Technogeek. Human being. (And if you believe that, I have this bridge in Brooklyn for sale, cheap...) "What about me, it isn't fair I've had enough, now I want my share Can't you see, I want to live..." - don't ask me who, I don't know -