Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!cs.utexas.edu!rice!uw-beaver!sumax!amc-gw!erica From: erica@amc-gw.amc.com (Eric Arendts) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Someone new Message-ID: <1258@amc-gw.amc.com> Date: 16 Apr 90 17:53:07 GMT Organization: Applied Microsystems Corp.; Redmond, WA Lines: 54 A stream of light enters Callahan's as the front door opens and another figure enters. He's late twenty-ish, but looks somewhat younger. (Would probably get carded in another establishment) His hair is light brown and longish, yet not unkept. The jeans, turtleneck, pullover sweater, and penny loafers look like a common and comfortable appearance for him. He walks to the bar, leans on one elbow and catches Mike's eye, "Bartender, what would you suggest for a slight hangover?" "Well...," Mike begins, "a couple of aspirins with an H20 chaser is a good start." "Super, and how about a black coffee to go along with it," the stranger continues. Mike looks back over his shoulder while pouring the coffee with a quizical look, "A rough time of it last night?" Chuckling a little bit, the stranger answers, "You could say that. It's that right of passage that your buddies feel they have to put you through, called the 'Bachelor Party'. Turns out mine was last night. I just happened to be passing by and decided to come in, magnetic attraction or something I guess." "Here you go," Mike sets a glass of water, 3 Bayers and a steaming mug of coffee in front of the newcomer. "The name's Mike," he continues, smiling and extending his hand over the bar. "The 'Big Day' coming up soon?" "Yeah, next Saturday. I can't believe it's coming up so fast. Call me E.J., and thanks for the remedies!" the young man grins back and shakes Mike's hand. Looking around the room and noticing the vast array of different patrons, his roving gaze catches what appears to be, ... Elvis? No,... hmmm? "Say Mike, isn't that just the best, dead-ringer Elvis impersonator you've ever seen?", E.J. laughs. "Oh, but that IS Elvis. Welcome to Callahan's," Mike winks back. Over on the other side of the room E.J. notices a joyous cry of "Euchre" followed by several groans. "Everybody I've ever met from Michigan plays that game," he thinks to himself. "Maybe I'll have to go peer in for a bit." E.J. "You can always tell a real friend; when you've made a fool of yourself he doesn't feel you've done a permanent job." Lawrence J. Peter Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!sdd.hp.com!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!psuvax1!xavier!news From: awp92@campus.swarthmore.edu Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A newcomer for the dance Message-ID: <4ZQH3ZG@xavier.swarthmore.edu> Date: 16 Apr 90 23:28:52 GMT Sender: news@xavier.swarthmore.edu (USENET News System) Organization: Swarthmore College Lines: 34 -Message-Text-Follows- The door opens, and in walks The Grey Pilgrim, wearing a great cloak and large wide-brimmed hat which shrouds his face in shadow. He looks around solemnly for a minute, ominous and mysterious. A sudden blast of wind from the open door knocks off his hat, revealing a somewhat startled 20-year old with amorphous auburn hair and a red beard. He laughs good-naturedly at himself, putting the hat back on for a second so he can say "Pay no attention to the little man behind the cloak." Then he casts off the cloak. You see that he is dressed in a T-shirt and bright green sweat-type pants. "Sorry about that. I just had to enter Callahans as TGP. He was my identity for three years on an L.A. board called Bilbo's Hideaway, many moons ago. In the future, I think I will be appearing here as myself. You can call me Andy, or Andele if you're feeling affectionate." Andy walks over to Nao in the dancing corner. "Well, you finally lured me. You know I can't pass up an opportunity to dance Fugal Fergus!" Turning to the rest of the dancers, "Anyone need a partner?" Once he has secured a partner, he excuses himself for a moment, walks over to the bar, greets Mike, and purchases a vanilla phosphate. "Here's to knowing how you feel, and feeling what you know!" *crash* "And now for the dance!" -- Andy Perry; Swarthmore College: AWP92@campus.swarthmore.edu or AWP92@swarthmr.bitnet "Time isn't holding up. There's a lot I'll have missed, Time isn't after us. But I'll not have been dead Same as it ever was. When I die! Same as it ever was." -- Stephen Sondheim -- David Byrne _A_Little_Night_Music_ Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!uwm.edu!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!shelby!lindy!news From: HF.ZMF@forsythe.stanford.edu (Miriam Ferziger) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: *sigh* Message-ID: <8996@lindy.Stanford.EDU> Date: 16 Apr 90 23:57:53 GMT Sender: news@lindy.Stanford.EDU (News Service) Distribution: usa Lines: 12 Viola walks up to Nao and gives her a hug. "Well, here I am, ready to learn your dance. "It's a good thing that this is virtual dancing since my silly persona in the other world managed to strain her ankle dancing a hornpipe at rehersal the other night." --------------------- Viola hf.zmf@forsythe.stanford.edu O Time! Thou must untangle this knot, not I; It is too hard a knot for me t'untie Wm. Shakespeare (_12th Night_) --------------------- Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!usc!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!shelby!lindy!news From: GE.LJB@forsythe.stanford.edu (Louis J Bookbinder) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: catching up Message-ID: <8995@lindy.Stanford.EDU> Date: 16 Apr 90 23:37:53 GMT Sender: news@lindy.Stanford.EDU (News Service) Lines: 60 Clump, clank, clump Nick stumbles in, still with a cold. He tries to suppress the metalic coughs, which sound somewhat like someone pounding a roofing nail through sheet metal. The mess is being cleaned up, the woodpile is rising, and the chalkline has been renewed (after the tardis scuffed out part of it). Nick appears happier, despite his cold. He dumps this last load of wood and pulls out a list. "Lets see, now, still catching up. Ah," he reaches under his hat, pulls out the fuzzy, then a flower, replaces the hat, "here!" He walks over to Diana's table and hands her the flower. "I believe in you. You believe in pansies. Pansies believe in me so all of us must be real." He doffs his hat - the green fuzzy on his head looks like a clownish toupee - and walks back to the fireplace. Patrons around him are paying attention and grinning. "Um, Alex," he says, glancing at the fire, "please don't burn books in this fireplace. It makes me very nervous. If you don't like the book, give it to your local John Birch Freedom Library. They eat that stuff up. "Austin, same thing happened to me, once. Only, she knew her limits, so she told me she'd like to try the other one. I said OK. A month later she came back. So I married her. Someone else posted here in her sig line something like (please pardon a poor memory): 'If you love it, let it go. If it comes back, it is yours. If it does not, it never was.' I believe in it. In any case, good luck. "Jilara, you said it better than I could - people often do claim that the assine way they act is not really them - it is just their SCA persona or the booze or getting dumped by their lover, or whatever - THEY are not responsible. What crap. We are all responsible for our actions. Otherwise we should be locked up in an institution. "Wait, wait," he says, as nearby patrons begin to object, "let me temper that! I apologize! Some people are essentially out of their heads, insane, or otherwise morally incapacitated. So logically, they should not be allowed to hurt others. But I admit that mostly such people need help and care to return to sanity. I am just not sure I can, myself, help them. Sometimes the best response to insanity is to turn away. Please try to understand that I am not trying to put people down - just irresponsible behavior. And such behavior frightens me. "I guess I don't make much sense. Darn "Jamie and Cuyahoga, Hi. Pull up a chair. "Wildcard," Nick goes over to the thin figure sitting sadly at a corner table, "Please accept a warm fuzzy for your memories of Marcy" He pulls the green one out from under his hat and hands it to Wildcard, but when the hat goes back down, there is still fuzzy fur poking out - orange this time. Nick flips the paper over a few times, smiles, waves once to Chris Phoenix and once to Oktave, and walks back out again. Nick Chopper - my opinion? dont ax! LB>- GE.LJB@Forsythe.stanford.edu Path: mit-eddie!media-lab!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!uc!shamash!tank!msuinfo!cpsin2!frey From: frey@cpsin2.uucp (Zachary T Frey {regular}) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: I'm baaaack! Bwahahaha! Message-ID: <1990Apr17.001819.18265@msuinfo.cl.msu.edu> Date: 17 Apr 90 00:18:19 GMT Sender: news@msuinfo.cl.msu.edu Organization: Michigan State University, East Lansing Lines: 64 The big oak front door to Callahan's flies open with a resounding SLAM!! and a man in a trenchcoat and floppy hat pulled low over his face stalks in. He's very reminicent of "The Shadow" -- especially with that little piece of Israeli hardware he's carrying. "Nobody move ... this is a stickup" he growls. The bar goes silent. Some of the patrons look around nervously, wondering what is going to happen next. Others look entirely *too* relaxed. The man in the trenchcoat looks down at what he is holding. "Actually, this is an Uzi. *This* is a Stick-Up(tm)" as he drops the gun, pulls a small plastic air freshener from a pocket, and tosses it to Mike. Mike snorts. "Are you sure you want to be pulling that sort of stunt in my bar, sonny? Some of my patrons might not take kindly to it." "Dat's right," pipes Fast Eddie. "Could be dang'rous for your health." The man takes off the floppy hat and starts unbuttoning the trenchcoat. "Oh, I wasn't worried. You told us all about the last time someone tried to hold up the Place. I seem to remember that he escaped with only a few cuts on his hands." Some of the patrons now recognize the man as the long-silent Zach Frey, and oblige with a few well-aimed peanuts. Tom Hauptman grimmaces. "Don't remind me." "Anyway," Zach continues, "I've been gone for a while, and I felt like making a dramatic re-entrance. Besides, I sort of slipped in the first time." Zach looks around. "The place sure has changed in a few short weeks. Is that a fencing strip I see? And who are all these newcomers? Thenomain, Thalen, fuzzyelf--Brandi Weed, WildCard, Windsinger, Viola, Kady, Lyra, Morpheus, Nao, Eretria, and others I'm sure I'm missing. Looks like I've got a lot of catching up to do." "Oh, and I'd like to make a general apology to those who *haven't* gotten email and should have. (This especially means _you_, Gilly, Jilara, and Taldin.) Please bear with me -- you have been on my mind, and I'll be communicating soon." (In the back, someone is heard to mutter "the check's in the email ...") He walks up to the bar with the obligatory $1 bill. "Glen Fiddich, please, neat." Then to the chalkline. "I don't have a specific story or toast tonight, so please bear with me a moment ..." The Glen Fiddich is savored. "To Friendship, Empathy, Communication, and Compassion. And to Callahan's Place, where such a toast may continue to seem unnecessary!" <<*CRASH*>> Zach "... so I've been busy ..." Frey -- Papernet: Zachary Frey | frey@frith.egr.msu.edu | Usenet: the 514 Virginia St. | frey@msuegr.BITNET | Bellman's E. Lansing, MI 48823 | ...uunet!frith!frey | Paradise. | frey@cpsin.cps.msu.edu | -me Path: mit-eddie!media-lab!snorkelwacker!usc!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!dino!ux1.cso.uiuc.edu!tank!msuinfo!cpsin2!frey From: frey@cpsin2.uucp (Zachary T Frey {regular}) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Story Poker (was Re: Hello, did any one hear me?) Message-ID: <1990Apr17.003618.22420@msuinfo.cl.msu.edu> Date: 17 Apr 90 00:36:18 GMT References: <11551@encore.Encore.COM> <79081@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu> <35460@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU> Sender: news@msuinfo.cl.msu.edu Organization: Michigan State University, East Lansing Lines: 45 In article <35460@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU> goldfarb@ocf.Berkeley.EDU (David Goldfarb) writes: >In article <79081@tut.cis.ohio-state.edu> Thenomain writes: >)He sits back down at the table and nods to Hildy. "See, no magic, no flashy >)clothes." He smiles and waits for people to arive. >Zach peers in the door. The former stick-up artist wanders over. "Hey, what do you know? Another Zach! We're unusual, I tell you. Why, just this year, I met the first person over the age of five who was also named Zach. I guess a quality name like that just has to show up more than once." "So, how are we going to distinguish between each other? If the people here have trouble with Hildy and Hildebaby, how are they going to handle Zach and Zach?" >He's barely recovered from delivering the >Ultimate Accolade--his nose is still red. (For those who like descriptions, >BTW, he's 5'8", short dark hair, oval-shaped face, glasses, and a scraggly >mustache.) "Well, at least we're not twins." [Description -- 6'0" (almost), brown hair, cut shoulder-length. The glasses are half-rimmed. My mustache is *not* scraggly, thank you. :^) BTW, you can get an idea of the nose from the fact that my smiley is :^), not :-). (i.e., it's a proud family tradition.) Tonight I'm wearing white Nike's, red sweatpants, and a navy sweater with "A Phi Omega" on the front.] "Story poker, huh? We'll, besides the fact that I sometimes feel a bit flushed when trying to tell a tale, I'm not sure I always get things straight. (It's a royal pain.) And I hate playing to a full house. Ah, well. I'll try to pair this one down to the ace-entials." [story forthcoming in subsequent posting ...] Zach Frey -- Papernet: Zachary Frey | frey@frith.egr.msu.edu | Usenet: the 514 Virginia St. | frey@msuegr.BITNET | Bellman's E. Lansing, MI 48823 | ...uunet!frith!frey | Paradise. | frey@cpsin.cps.msu.edu | -me Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!shelby!csli!cphoenix From: cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU (Chris Phoenix) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: On touching Message-ID: <13123@csli.Stanford.EDU> Date: 17 Apr 90 00:55:19 GMT References: <20940053@hplred.HP.COM> Sender: cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU (Chris Phoenix) Reply-To: cphoenix@csli.stanford.edu (Chris Phoenix) Organization: Center for the Study of Language and Information, Stanford U. Lines: 38 In article <20940053@hplred.HP.COM> egly@hplred.HP.COM (Diana Egly) writes: >... It was as if a hand >on her shoulder was like a vampire sucking the very vitality out of her. >So I did not touch her. (And I expect, Chris, when you saw the results >of being touched neither would you have...) No, I certainly wouldn't have. I don't force touch on people. I used to, to some extent, But now I've gotten more sensitive, and also more scared of driving people away. So if someone doesn't want me to touch them, I don't. And I ask permission before a "significant" touch like a hug or a backrub, unless it's someone I know or who obviously wants to hug. I don't know if you'd seen my posting in defense of my positionwhen you wrote this, but I don't believe in forcing people to touch. I just want to allow people to touch when they want to, and keep them from being trained to avoid it. >I wonder if the people who've been emotionally traumatized at some >point in their lives are rather like this as well. The "don't touch me" >is a sign that there's serious damage and the person needs protection >from greater injury. And they've taken responsibility for their own >protection. The "don't touch me" can be this. And if it is, I'll respect it. I said that I wouldn't expect a victim of abuse to touch me, nor try to touch them. The same goes for epileptics and trauma victims, both physical and mental. But I believe that it can also be a result of simple conditioning training. This society provides such training, and in fact forces it on you. This is why I am so upset at the effects--as powerful as touch is, and as much as it has potential for good (and I believe that the balance is far toward the good, for unwounded people), someone growing up in this society will probably be deprived of touch *for no good reason*! -- Chris Phoenix | "I've spent the last nine years structuring my cphoenix@csli.Stanford.EDU | life so that this couldn't happen." ...And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot see your hand, you're a stranger now unto me, lost in the dangling conversation, and the superficial sighs... Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!usenet.ins.cwru.edu!eagle!news From: spgreg@mars.lerc.nasa.gov Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Jolting jest in time (long) Message-ID: <1990Apr12.003438.21501@eagle.lerc.nasa.gov> Date: 12 Apr 90 00:34:38 GMT Reply-To: spgreg@mars.lerc.nasa.gov Organization: NASA Lewis Research Center Lines: 141 Time passes with a jolt in Callahan's... Eustace, The Black Monk, turns to Doug, saying, "You suggest that the oceans treasures are possibly a poor analogy to emotions because emotions number in the tens and twenties and are not unlimited. You are right and wrong. The monks who sheltered me in my youth lean towards the number four for the sum total of pure emotions. Much time has passed since then (that was the 11th century) and perhaps I misremember some- what, but I believe they were: Anger, Joy, Fear, and Sorrow. That is one more than the number of colors, and look how many tones tumble from the artists palette. If one can locate and reach the shipwrecks that are the source of each emotion, one can fashion the most colorful and beautiful of garments." "It will always be easier to find flaws in simplistic analogies for complex realities like emotions. I challenge you to escape further from your old shell as the Cynic and extend and strengthen the analogy. Or perhaps I am just the foolish captain sinking with the ship." Walking to the bar, Eustace's kilt seems to lighten from the almost black shades it possesed upon his entry. Muted, weathered shades of brown, white and kahki are appearing. "Jolts for the table, Mike." These Mike delivers in two glasses and a wooden mug. "This Jolt, it is odd, it seems to boil yet there is ice in the mug." Taking a slug, The Monk seems to freeze absolutely. EVERYONE PRESENT FEELS A JOLT! AS TIME LEAPS FORWARD AND UP TO THE RAFTERS > {LOOK AT ME.} The tiger is standing on the rafter now, glaring down >at those below. {This is not my true form. I am actually the Ghost in >the Machine, or perhaps the Black Dragon. But I needed a form that was >cuddly. That invited the touch. So I ended up as the Green Tiger. I didn't >even realize what was going on when I made the decision. All I knew was that >immaterial or scaly just didn't feel right, while furry did.} > {It's scary. Things that I'm trying hard to suppress can outwit me >without difficulty. And there's so much going on in the background in my >head that I can never know exactly why I do anything.} > {So I'm restarting Perimeter Guard in hopes of limiting the problem. >It won't do everything, but it's a start.} Eustace startles some with what appears to be sudden motion. "Intro- spection can be a powerful tool, and exploring the actions you perform because they 'felt right' can lead to understanding. There may be even more to your form than you realize. Green is a color of life, and the tiger is a symbol of strength and war. You are prepared to fight for what you need to LIVE. The warm furry aspect of the cats is a plea to be touched, as you surmised, and so is the dangling tail. Yet you also left the warning of wrath for any who would pull your tail. How revealing in retrospect! Likewise, your modification of the kittens control parameters so that they no longer molest crows and bagpipes. It appears that you are won that battle with your French (uncontrolled responses). I see within you the steel that is needed to win the war." "I drink to your strength and continued success." and partaking once more from the mug... JOLT! AHEAD THROUGH TIME WITH A FLASH OF LIGHNING BEYOND THE WINDOW >Lyra stands up when Kady is finished. > "I know what you mean, Kady. I had much the same thing happen when I was >eleven, only she was just a good acquaintance, and of course I'd met you by >then. You are one up on me. I still haven't cried over her death. >Actually, I haven't cried since I was" (long pause as she thinks) "Oh, about >eight. And if you hold it in too long sorrow becomes anger, or festering >self-pity." Again, Eustace moves with a seeming JOLT. "I find that all of my tears are shed in self pity. A CRY is not the only means of release, and not necessarily the most effective for everyone. Some find release in lifting 12 stone rocks and hurling them into rivers. Some find it in playing Hurley with Hobbits for balls. Some bawl. In order for me to release my sorrow it must first become anger which I can unleash on my French, else it turns to self pity, then tears, then anger at my lack-of-control/self-adulating-hangup, then the anger is productively unleashed on my French. The path is not the same for everyone, society, sex-roles, and Brother Mendel doesn't allow that." "I'm certain I speak for all when I say we would be honored to help you find the sword most suitable for your battle. If you have chosen a blade, we would be equally honored to help you hone your skill in wielding the weapon." Stepping forward from the bar, Eustace toasts, "May practice ever make you stronger... May the muscle soreness be short lived and deep to make the rest of life more vital." Tipping once more the mug of... JOLT! AHEAD ONCE MORE WE FIND OURSELVES BEFORE MIKE'S STILL SILL >A voice picks up from the padded bar stool where the woman in the >muted paisley sweater is sitting. > >"Am I missing some inside jokes or something? Other than a couple >generic hellos, no one seems to want to answer me. Re-turning towards the bar, Eustace nearly spills his mug as Hildy moves with a JOLT. "Excuse me. Did I miss something? Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm Eustace. Will you join me in drinking the round I purchased for the house?" Knocking back a bit before ordering from Mike... JOLT! TIME FLIES LIKE AN ARROW (FRUIT FLIES LIKE A BANNANA.) Eustace starts to order, and several just start. "Since they haven't come forth to collect, scotch for Hildy, a special for Chopper, the appropriate concoctions for Kady and Lyra, Milk in a cowhide bag tied the green tail... Perhaps the others can wait or claim their own. This Jolt doesn't seem to have nearly the effect on me that it has on Good Doug and the others." Digging in his purse, Black produces a Henry I pound. "I'll return to meade after this swig." "It appears to be time for cards." Eustace delivers the draughts as deemed necessary, and stands before a seat at the card table. "A toast to the story I'll ante with. To battling the French!" Tipping once more the mug... JOLT! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Eustace | Looking twice through the glass, I see | The bull watching spgreg@csd.lerc.nasa.gov | The torreador | -MacRae ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!husc6!encore!encore.com From: terryk@encore.com (Terence Kelleher) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Hildy's turn Message-ID: <11662@encore.Encore.COM> Date: 17 Apr 90 01:11:14 GMT Sender: news@Encore.COM Reply-To: terryk@encore.com (Terence Kelleher) Organization: Encore Computer Corp Lines: 23 Hildy shakes her head as Terry finishes. "Some how I get the feeling that could have been shorter but.... it wouldn't be Terry if it was." She walks up to the bar and puts a single on the bar and asks for another Jameson's Whiskey. "A welcome to the newcomers, Chris and E.J., I too was bowled over by the caring of the people found here. And E.J., all the warmest wishes for your married life-to-be. Nick, I agree with most of what you said, although I'm not sure of the egotistical slant you put on the people here. I'm here because I can picture you all (probably not the way you REALLY look but I do see you in my own way) and see you as people who enrich my life with stories and problems and solutions that I may not see otherwise. Even if I stop posting tomorrow, I would still read you all. I can read your name in your headers or in the mail you've sent me, but I still see you as Nick. As in the books, I can hear your heart tick and the warmth of it heats the cockles of my own. You are a special person, Nick, and I'm glad to know you." -- Terence Kelleher Encore Computer Corporation terryk@encore.com Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucsd!nosc!crash!simpact!jeh From: jeh@dcs.simpact.com Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Scottish dancing (was: *sigh*) Message-ID: <1164.262a0503@dcs.simpact.com> Date: 17 Apr 90 01:46:43 GMT References: Organization: Simpact Associates, San Diego CA Lines: 32 In article , nap92@campus.swarthmore.edu writes: > Scottish Country Dancing need Scottish music, and live is definitely the > best." > She smiles happily. > "We've now got four people dancing, one interested newcomer, and a piper. > We're almost ready for a set of Fugal Fergus! Just four more definite people, > PLEASE? We can make do with two definites, but four is preferable." This is folk dancing, no? Well, Nao, I'm not a folk dancer... but about, oh, three and a half years ago I wasn't a dancer, period. And as Bertrand Russell said, "Argue for your limitations and you get to keep them." (If you notice a correlation between that time period, and the period since I've come at least somewhat out of my shyness shell, you're right on the mark!) Besides, I'm proud of my Scottish heritage -- this sounds like something that I really ought to know something about! So if you're willing to put up with an interested beginner, complete with two (sometimes more) left feet, I'd be more than happy to join in. In return, if *you're* interested, I can teach you a little about West Coast Swing dancing... I'll bet Eddie knows some great tunes for it, even though he might not know which ones they are! (What a pity that dance floors in the physical world can't be virtually extended the way this one can!) --- Jamie Hanrahan, Simpact Associates, San Diego CA Internet: jeh@dcs.simpact.com, +----------------------------------------- or if that fails, jeh@crash.cts.com | Rock and Roll ain't nothin' but Uucp: ...{crash,decwrl}!simpact!jeh | Rhythm and Blues misspelled.