Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabs!hpfcso!daq From: daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: An entrance. Message-ID: <9060041@hpfcso.HP.COM> Date: 19 Mar 90 04:42:36 GMT References: <14434@reed.UUCP> Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA Lines: 99 >(Iain Odlin) > "Then, the following events occured. I got the flu for three weeks, despite > my being immunized; My girlfriend of eight months broke up with me in favour > of a man I despise; One of my two great-grandmothers died, while the other > had a non-fatal myocardial infarction; My brother was involved in a one car > accident (he was not the driver) which resulted in total amnesia for three > days and partial amnesia for a week. I saw the car, and can honestly say it > is nothing short of miraculous he and his friend weren't killed outright; > My former employer, with whom I am good friends, contracted a disease re- > sembling Multiple Sclerosis and the doctors have no idea what it is; My > mother had a job-related nervous breakdown and had to take a leave of absence > from her job (teaching retarded children); My place of residence removed > itself out from under me; My duck was eaten by a coyote..." Orion pauses, > gulps a bit of lemonade and concludes his list with, "and my cat broke his > leg." > He downs the rest of his drink, and notices the room is silent. > Orion cuts the silence with a request for another lemonade, which is in- > stantly placed in his hand, then continues. > "This, needless to say, destroyed my grades. It was 'recommended' by the > college review board that I leave, and I did because I couldn't, and still > can't, deal with the stresses involved in addition to those already present > in my life. Now, I am searching for a both a place and a reason to live. > About the place: For the last two months, I have been attempting to secure > a house or apartment for myself and have been routinely turned down for > various reasons ranging from the fact that I have no job to the fact that my > room-mate (to be) is female. As for the reason, well..." Orion takes a > drink. "It seems to me that I have been sent a very definite message from > someone/something. In the space of one month my entire life was devalued > and destroyed, piece by piece. Losing my girlfriend was an enormous and in- > credibly painful part of that (and still is in some ways), but it wasn't the > whole of it. Heck, I even lost my car, thanks to an insurance company that > won't cover me as a non-student." > "I'm not entirely sure why I'm telling you all this. Maybe because I'm > looking for some form of comfort, I don't know. Probably, I'm saying it > because I need to get it off my chest. Whatever the reason, make of me > what you will, I am Orion. Pleased to meet you all! > "My toast: To cats, without which I would most likely be dead now." And > with that, he flings the glass into the fireplace. Cat are wonderful and have improved my life too. I cannot think of what to say to you. The stone you are rolling up a hill now makes mine look like a marble, but about all I can think of to help is an anecdote from my own life. About ten years ago, my brother and I were going to a concert. He rolled my car, and since neither of us was wearing seat belts, he was thrown out. I found him on the edge of the freeway, bloody and in convultions. I knew that he would die. Being in the middle of desolate Idaho, we had to wait about twenty minutes for an ambulance that took us to a hospital, doctors office is a better description, where they had to call in the doctor, who was undoubtedly up to his armpits in sheep husbandry or some other such country nonsense. While I waited, I could hear my brother saying things like, "I'm gonna die. Get on with it." At the time it did not seem terribly amusing that he was going to die while quoting David Letterman. Well, they decided that he was injured too badly to deal with there, so they carted him back into the ambulance and drove another 40 minutes to the nearest thing that approaches a hospital in that part of Idaho. In the end, he had sever contusions on his leg, a collapsed lung, and massive sprains and bruieses. He lived. Now, this is certainly very minor compared to what you are going through, but there are many times that I wished I had not survived that wreck. I would lie awake at night sweating and seeing my brother on the highway. About all I can say is, it got better. Certainly it still bothers me, but it is past and getting farther past every day. In your situation, your brother survived as well. Your mother is still alive and accessible to you, and you are not yet living on the street. Forgive me if I am not doing a good job of pointing out the positives, but such is not my function. About all I can recommend it to keep a stiff upper lip. It may not get better, but it sure as hell ain't gonna get much worse. > Orion sits at the bar, orders yet another lemonade and then says to the > assemblage, "Maybe I'll have something better to toast in the near future. > I have two house interviews tomorrow. Wish me luck?" You have my wishes for luck. Cynic. Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabs!hpfcso!daq From: daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: To Cynic or Not? Message-ID: <9060042@hpfcso.HP.COM> Date: 19 Mar 90 05:21:58 GMT Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA Lines: 201 A somewhat familiar shape clad in black comes through the door into Callahan's. It is just a man wearing black garb and black sun glasses. There seem to be leather straps bound on his wrists with small pieces of paper tied into them. He also has a headband of the same construction; small pieces of paper tied into strips of leather. There is a cat sitting on his shoulder. The cat is a small black and white male, and looks, for lack of a better description, very catlike. The man crosses to a table and sits. He seems to be breathing very slowly as if he is very relaxed. There is no emotion displayed on the face, but his face does look recently careworn, much like a piece of clothing washed by beating it with rocks looks recently washed. People look at him from surrounding tables. Their faces exhibit an expression that connotes not so much a feeling of anticipation as a feeling of 'get on with it'. So..........he does. "Well, you may wonder what has been happening since my tirade. Well, first I had to elude the Four Horsemen. I thought I had them when I cut through Minit Lube, but, although the Horses seemed to experience a bit of discomfort, the Riders soon got them under control and resumed the chase. It's a long story, but suffice it to say that they are probably still back at the local Jack in the Box where they improved the atmosphere a great deal in my not so humble opinion." The cat jumps from his shoulder and begins to bite at his hands. "Oh yeah, this is my cat Rorschach." "You might be asking, assuming that you have exhibited the extraordinary patience to read this far, 'Whats with the headband dude?' Ok, so you probably didn't say dude, but you will forgive me for a little artistic license. I know you will, you're such a forgiving bunch." He fingers the leather on his wrists. And thinks for a moment. Needless to say, the effort of thinking produces great disturbances on his face. "When g(G)od gave the ten commandments to the Jewish people, lo those many messiah free millenia ago, he told them to bind the commandments to their head and their hands so that they would never forget them. I have done the same, symbolically of course, with the many responses to my rantings in this establishment. They were universally supportive in their forgiveness. I wish never to forget this, and so have bound them to my head and hands." A very slight grin appears for a brief moment. "I thought about calling this post, 'How to Cause an Empath Feeding Frenzy.' I was whelmed in a manner that can only be described as over. Overwhelmed indeed. My mail queue was flooded, but I responded to every message. If anyone did not get a reply, it is not because I did not type it in. I would like to respond to all of the posts, but I probably will not be able to, because there are many, and I usually do this at 1200 baud, so the effort would probably tax my patience. I will however respond to all e-mail, so if you have some compelling question about my personal pathology or just want to talk, please e-mail." "I feel compelled to ramble a bit on a couple of specific subjects, if you will bear with me. Chris P. asked me repeatedly in a post why I am here given that I am unwilling to accept help or admit any need. Chris and I have talked a fair amount via e-mail, and he has had to endure my frustrating tendency to refuse to be pinned down on this subject. I feel I owe an explanation to him, and perhaps to myself." "I have always said that I am not here because I need it, but because I like it. This may just be my way of saying that I need it. I cannot admit weakness to anyone. Yes, I have them. This should be obvious, but coping, strength, and self-reliance are very important to me. Perhaps I can explain why later so that this post does not bankrupt H.P. in transmission. Please just accept that I cannot confess them for whatever reason. Doing so would damage me immensly right now." "Many people offered help, and I would like to discuss the nature of help and my view of Callahan's right now. When offering help, people always say, 'There is probably nothing I can do, but let me know if I can.' Well, they are right. There is nothing really that can be done BY any of us FOR any of us, at least as a single act of healing. If a man is starving you give him bread, and he is no longer starving. Emotional needs are much harder than that. There is simply NOTHING that you can all do to heal my soul. Does this mean that I consider the offer and the effort valuless? Absolutely not. The mass of concern and input from people totally different and seperate from my dark world MAY motivate me to work on my own healing. The concern creates a symbol that you can bind to your head and your hands to remember that perhaps it matters when you come and go. And, if you are lucky, you may make some e-mail acquaintances with people who really can do something more direct to help you. Callahan's is not a great balm to the soul, but it is a minor balm to the soul, and in a world of rape, murder, starvation, and emotional desolation, that is better than nothing." "One person who wrote, told me that he/she had posted to Callahan's and had not gotten a response. I do not want to say who it was, but that is sad. For awhile I guess I believed in the trickle down theory. It seemed that if enough of us posted that someone would respond to everyone. Apparently that is not the case. So that it does not get to the point that people have to rant and rage to get responses, I hope that all of us can do a little better. I certainly make little effort to respond to new people. Hell, I'll be honest, I usually only respond to people who respond to MY postings. I might suggest that these newcomers e-mail to one of the regulars as a way into the crowd, but it is sad that that is needed." "I have spent some time wondering whether to keep the Cynic label. I wondered whether, as a symbolic act of healing and contrition, I might abandon it for something else. I decided that doing so would be a lie. I created the label as an indication that I would represent a darker view in these environs. I feel much better now that I have apologized and been forgiven, but I am not healed in any meaningful way. Yes, Chris, perhaps I do seek healing of some sort, but I am still the Cynic. Jilara might fill the role better than I, but she has not seen fit to take the role, so I will retain it. I ask you to have patience with me, but to be straightforward in your responses." Getting up, Cynic places the cat back on his shoulder. He crosses to Jilara, and asks her to accept a small leather band with a piece of paper tied in it. He repeats the process with Joelle, Taldin, and gives Jilara one for Alaric as well. "Please, keep these and give them to the next fool who flames you for no reason. If he does not apologize, and you are tempted to anger youself, remember this symbol, and have mercy. Hell, it might even be me." "Oh, and if you are wondering about the sunglasses, they are to protect my eyes if the atmosphere gets to light here. Perhaps they will help to keep me from getting irritable." "Again, e-mail if you see fit, and thank you very much for the orgy of support that came my way." Cynic Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!wuarchive!psuvax1!psuvm!kal110 From: KAL110@psuvm.psu.edu (kim levis) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: GOOD TO BE BACK Message-ID: <90079.135011KAL110@psuvm.psu.edu> Date: 20 Mar 90 18:50:10 GMT Organization: Penn State University Lines: 13 I'm finally back!!!! I know i have been gone for the longest time, but I have finally settled down and i am ready for some serious posting. While I was gone I had some very unusual experiences. My social life reached new heigh ts after i declared myself a walking picket fence. And while i was gone i purc hased ten packs of gum.....only to chew them all in one day. Pretty radical ay !!! I do have some bad news, though. I walked down a dirt road and picked up one rock....just one. And i also had a run-in with a member of the spider man fan club. But in all seriousness i am back to stay and i hope everyone will se nd me some interesting e-mail again so that i can relate my wonderful experienc es wit' you. otay?? bye, and may a mockingbird be your sidewalk in a tire tube! KIM (world-renowned-spatula)LEVIS Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!mips!servitude.mips.com!steveh From: steveh@servitude.mips.com (Stephen C. Hill) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Apologies Message-ID: <37197@mips.mips.COM> Date: 20 Mar 90 21:49:49 GMT References: <9060040@hpfcso.HP.COM> Sender: news@mips.COM Lines: 41 Doug, I've been standing around, drinking my Tullamore Dew (which I have to gripe, is only available in Ireland (and some selected English stores, like Harrads)) and listening to the flurry of events that started with your grenade incident. Please pardon my bluntness, but with the white hair on my head, I believe that I am entitled to point out some things that I've noticed. You go on beating your breast about how you are willing to leave if the assembled multitude asks you to, and while I agree with the others that WE won't ask someone to leave, I'm feeling rather manipulated. If you know anything about Callahan's, you KNOW that we are a supportive and caring bunch, and would not throw you out for your outburst. Many of us have been where you are, and in fact, I know that I am a frequent visitor to that part of the mental country. Many folks have already let you know that you are welcome to stay, and I join in. All I ask is that you try to see where your pain is coming from, and, realising that we aren't causing it, talk to us about where you are. We are more than willing to provide an audience to help you vent your frustrations and fears. All we ask is that you provide the same service when we need it. [This software has a really stupid editor, and I realised that I have been using "we" without prior approval. Let me personalize this, and ask you to mentally replace all "we"s with "I"s. If others wish to join in, they are more than welcome.] That having been said, why not have a seat here and let me pour you some Irish ambrosia? "Slainte." Steve -- Stephen C. Hill, CDP {ames,prls,pyramid,decwrl}!mips!steveh or steveh@mips.com Integration Products Group MIPS Computer Systems 930 Arques Sunnyvale, CA 94086, (408) 720-2916 Time is Nature's method of keeping us from bumping into ourselves. Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!haste+ From: haste+@andrew.cmu.edu (Dani Zweig) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: I agree with Cynic! Message-ID: Date: 20 Mar 90 22:05:41 GMT Organization: Graduate School of Industrial Administration, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 15 Ellen Eades: >*My* friends must know me for a long time before I give them such license. >They know how I feel about men and women, government, religion, circuses, >advertising, sexuality, music, racism, leather, and fixing my car... Ellen, don't answer this if you'd rather not, but... how do you feel about circuses? Dani Zweig haste@andrew.cmu.edu Inscription for a monument at crossroads: "Here lies, extinguished in his prime,/A victim of modernity: But yesterday he hadn't time -- /and now he has eternity. --Piet Hein (grooks) Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!jarthur!uunet!mcsun!ukc!harrier.ukc.ac.uk!spt1 From: spt1@ukc.ac.uk (Stephen Thomas) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Someone Trumps in. Message-ID: <4232@harrier.ukc.ac.uk> Date: 20 Mar 90 21:48:04 GMT Reply-To: spt1@ukc.ac.uk (Stephen Thomas) Distribution: alt Organization: Computing Lab, University of Kent at Canterbury, UK. Lines: 98 [] In a quite part of the room, near the bar, something strange starts to happen. A figure appears. It is a two-dimensional image, with a rainbow effect around the edge. At first the image is unclear, but rapidly assumes solidity (and the missing dimension). Finally the coloured edges disappear and it is obvious that someone has Arrived. It appears to be a man in his mid-twenties with a serious expression his face, emphasised by heavy eyebrows which meet in the middle. He has dark brown hair which, although it is not curly, tends to do what it wants anyway. He has grey-blue eyes. He is dressed in faded black jeans, so they look grey, and a matching grey shirt, together with a black denim jacket. In his left hand he is holding what looks like a playing card of some kind, which he is regarding with a look of concentration. In his right hand is a case containing a pack of similar cards. As soon as his arrival is complete, he looks up and around with a pleased smile. "Hey, it worked! I didn't think I'd be able to imagine this place clearly enough. Just goes to show, doesn't it?" With that he slides the card he was holding into the case containing its fellows, closes the case and puts it into a pocket in his jacket. He turns to the bar. He fumbles around in his pockets for a moment, then comes out with a slightly crumpled dollar. "I'll have a bitter lemon, Mike." The bill and the drink change hands, and the man turns to look at the others in the room, who understandably regard him with curiousity. "Hello, everyone. My name is Stephen, although almost everyone calls me Steve. This is my first 'real' posting here, although I have been sitting around, listening, for quite a while. It is only now that I feel that I feel that I actually have something to say. "I know that I am empathic to some degree, but it is only in the last week or so that I have discovered that I can actually help people with this, and I would like tell you about this. "I have a friend who was going through a bad patch recently. She is prone to crises of confidence. She doesn't think she is very good at her work. I personally think she is more able that she gives herself credit for. Anyway, last week she turned to me for help. No-one has *ever* turned to me before, but I had to respond. So I spent an afternoon just talking with her. I managed to get her to talk to another friend who is a proper counsellor, and she started to come out of it. "A few days later, out of the blue, I decided to go and see another friend. It turned out she was in a bad way, emotionally. At a beach party she had helped to arrange, she had a leetle too much to drink, and fell asleep. What did her friends do? Did they get her home? No, they left her on the beach, to get home on her own when she woke up! She *was* robbed, of course. She was very lucky that wasn't raped or murdered - or both. Fortunately, she did manage to get home OK. "But, being abandoned, in a very literal sense, by people you thought were your friends, is a very bad experience. People who had nothing to do with this were avoiding her because she was so depressed and snapping at everyone. She had retreated to her room and it was like this that I found her. Again, I just talked to her, and let her talk to me. I dragged her out for a cup of coffee, and then pointed her at my counsellor friend again. I later heard (from my counsellor friend) that she really appreciates me coming round when I did. She doesn't know how it would have turned out if I hadn't been there. "Anyway, I feel fairly pleased with myself. I think that for the first time in my life I have really *helped* someone, and it is a personal revelation to me that I *can* help people. "There is bound to come a time when I too will need such help, and the fact that people who can help are there is always a comfort. But I also feel that I cannot in fairness ask for such help unless I am able to give it myself when needed. I now know that I can give it." Stephen moves to the chalk line. "So, I would like to propose a toast. To those willing to heed a cry for help, and those willing to listen when others need to talk!" ... . Stephen looks at the glass fragments in the fireplace for a long moment, then looks up and around with a bright smile. "Well, I have quite a bit to do - behind with work, you know ... Thank you all for listening to me." With that, he gets out the deck of cards again. He selects one and begins to concentrate on it. Those sitting nearby can see that the card has a picture of an office somewhere on it, with an untidy desk in a corner and another desk behind with a terminal sitting on it. Gradually Stephen's image takes on a rainbow-edged effect, turns two-dimensional, and finally fades away. -- Never give | Stephen Thomas fate an | JANET: spt1@ukc.ac.uk even chance | Telephone: +44 (0)227 764000 ext 3824 | Snail: Computing Lab, University of Kent at Canterbury, UK. Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!swrinde!cs.utexas.edu!mailrus!iuvax!noose.ecn.purdue.edu!newton.physics.purdue.edu!maxwell.physics.purdue.edu!sterling From: sterling@maxwell.physics.purdue.edu (Bruce S. Woodcock) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Feeling Good.... Message-ID: <3342@newton.physics.purdue.edu> Date: 21 Mar 90 03:06:54 GMT Sender: news@newton.physics.purdue.edu Lines: 19 Well, I feel pretty good. I found Callahan`s by accident; I WISH someone had told me about it earlier. Since I found it, I`ve been recommending it to others. Today, I got email that THANKS TO ME, someone new will be appearing in Callahan`s. I`ve also started supplying posts to someone who does not have access to alt.callahans. It makes you feel warm inside to know that you`ve done something GOOD and RIGHT for a change.... BTW, more and more people from Purdue have begun posting here, and I`m sure there are many more lurkers... Do any of you guys want to get together for a regional realspace meeting? We could do it right here at Purdue (which is in West Lafayette, IN for those of you who don`t know) and people from Indianapolis and Chicago could attend, too. Any takers? What time is good for you? | Actually, life IS a bed of roses, but somebody | Of course I`m a romantic! | | somebody forgot to remove the thorns... | Why do you think I`ve never | |------------------------------------------------| had a girlfriend? | | Internet: sterling@maxwell.physics.purdue.edu | Sir Bruce Sterling, Paladin | Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!cs.utexas.edu!mailrus!rutgers!att!cbnewsh!wcs From: wcs@cbnewsh.ATT.COM (Bill Stewart 201-949-0705 erebus.att.com!wcs) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Grenades a la Creme Message-ID: <9066@cbnewsh.ATT.COM> Date: 20 Mar 90 23:37:02 GMT References: <35036@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU> Reply-To: wcs@cbnewsh.ATT.COM (Bill Stewart 201-949-0705 erebus.att.com!wcs) Organization: Yoyodyne Propulsion Systems Lines: 19 ] "Well, all right!" Zach says, examining the pie. "This is the very ]latest in pies, a Schroedinger-Heisenberg Special! It has the unique prop- ]erty of being in a "mixed flavor state". It isn't decided exactly what ]flavor it is until someone actually cuts a slice. The advantage is that ]if nobody looks at his or her slice until they're all cut, you can work ]things so that everyone has a *different* flavor--whatever you want! One ]person's slice can be lemon meringue while someone else has apple. Plus, ]the size retroactively adjusts exactly to fit the number of eaters." The monk mumbles something about "Pie In The Sky", and returns to contemplating the number of angels that can dance with a set of pinheads. electric -- # Bill Stewart AT&T Bell Labs 4M312 Holmdel NJ 201-949-0705 erebus.att.com!wcs # Fax 949-4876. Sometimes found at Somerset 201-271-4712 # Pay LOTS of attention to that man behind the curtain! Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabs!hpfcso!daq From: daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A mood poem Message-ID: <9060043@hpfcso.HP.COM> Date: 20 Mar 90 06:12:01 GMT Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA Lines: 76 Hello people. I was feeling a bit sad, so I composed a mood poem. I deliberately wrote it so that people who are sad can read sad things and people who are happy can read happy things in. I think that it is really pretty neutral, although I did try to skew it slightly toward the positive, although I am sure that many people will disagree. Althoug most of it really means nothing, some of it does. Nevertheless, I hope that those of you who are disposed to waste time on such things enjoy it, or at least get a little something from it. Doug ---------------------------------------------------------- Grasping attraction Rendered tenderly Beauty refracted Subtracted and dead Holes in my head Hands in my heart Glimmering dimly On days far apart And delicate cracking of dusty old doors Diligent stations and weary old chores Remind me of times And comings And goings With knowledge and wisdom for showing the way No hope No despair Holy and healthy Destitute Wealthy Slowing, I gaze through the parted shades And it seems like a bright new world A happy future unfulred before my eyes It seems reasonable Viable Simple Reliable Step to the challenge And change it for owning Cherishing all And never bemoaning the joy Or dodging the sorrow Succeeding today Or failing tomorrow Desperate retractions Surrendered endlessly Sorrow infected Dejected rejected Holes in my heart Hands in my head Intransigent transience On days that are dread Immaculate pictures covering walls Luxurious carpeting following halls Out through the doors And into the day. ---------------------------------------------- Peace and release to you all. Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!shelby!portia!garygm From: garygm@portia.Stanford.EDU (Gary Brainin) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Yet another new arrival Message-ID: <10385@portia.Stanford.EDU> Date: 21 Mar 90 07:01:43 GMT Sender: Gary Brainin Reply-To: garygm@portia.Stanford.EDU (Gary Brainin) Distribution: alt Organization: Stanford Law School, Stanford University Lines: 81 The door opens slowly, as if the person opening it is unsure if he belongs inside. Opening fully, it reveals a man in his early twenties. Short, dark brown - almost black - hair blends into a gradually lightening beard which, just under the corners of his mouth, gives hints of...red? Set squarely in the centre of this circle of hair is a pair of glasses fronting a pair of sometimes thoughtful, sometimes sad, very occasionally sparkling brown eyes. The young man is wearing a dark blue pinstriped business suit with a stark white shirt and what can only be described as a "power tie". In his right hand he holds a rather expensive-looking leather briefcase. In short, he looks very much like a...lawyer. (Ick!) His outward appearance seems somewhat incongrous compared to those he finds himself standing amongst - that is, until the observer looks closely, and gets the distinct impression that this person has been places that most lawyers never dream of. It's something about the eyes. (Now where have I heard that before?) He looks about for a few seconds, then cautiously walks up to the bar. "Green Stinky, please," he asks after getting the bartender's attention. He pulls a small wad of bills, held in place by a gold money clip, from his front pants pocket, peels a single off the top, and places it on the bar. Beside it is placed a drink that resembles nothing more than carbonated mouthwash. Taking an experimental sip, the young man notices for the first time that the eyes of many in the room are on him. Simultaneously, he notices that the drink has a flavor that appeals in the same twisted way that a multi-car wreck does. "Mmm, that stinks," he intones appreciatively. The bartender, satisfied now that the drink was prepared correctly, returns to his work. "Well, hello. I suppose I should introduce myself," he says, finally addressing himself to the crowd. "My name is Gary. I've been known by other names at other times, but lately I've gone back to my original, default state." Realizing that he has already begun indulging in his penchant for digression, he quickly adds, "Anyway, I met a gentleman a couple of days ago who was telling all those who would listen that this was a good place for good company, and possibly good friends. (Thanks, Bruce.) I thought that I could use a place like that, so I came to look around. I've been watching from outside for a while, and I think that this could be just the Place I've been looking for." Leaving his briefcase by the bar - this level of trust being a sure sign that he feels at home - the young man takes another sip from his drink and heads closer to the centre of the room. "I'm not sure what else I can say about myself. Frankly, I don't find myself that exciting. But I should leave that for another time. My angst," he pauses, looking briefly at the floor, "would be better expressed when I'm feeling it more; now is a time for simpler things." Another sip. "One thing I will say about myself. I am a person who has learned the hard way that it is _right_ to share one's emotions, and to share in those of others. That's not something that's easily done in most places, so I look hard for the places it can be. Occasionally, such places were right in front of me all the time. That's the way it was with Callahan's, but now that I've found it, I hope I won't waste it." Without realizing it, the young man has reached a chalk line on the floor. Eyeing the bits of broken glass in the fireplace, he raises his glass. "It's probably been said before, but it bears repeating. To Callahan's!" With that, he drains the glass of the remainder of the bubbling green liquid, and sends it in a graceful arc toward its broken brethren. **CRASH** "Well, those stinkys always hit hard," he says, wobbling toward a quiet table, stopping only to recover his briefcase. He sits, and falls almost immediately asleep, a state which could last up until sometime in April. It may or may not be a coincidence that this is the length of Stanford University's spring break. -Gary -- |Gary Brainin |BITNET: garygm%portia.stanford.edu@stanford| |garygm@portia.stanford.edu |UUCP: ...decwrl!portia.stanford.edu!garygm | |"...the right to be let alone-the most comprehensive of rights and the right | |most valued by civilized men." Olmstead v. U.S. (Brandeis, J., dissenting)|