Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!usc!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!haste+ From: haste+@andrew.cmu.edu (Dani Zweig) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: The Mathematics of Greasy Spoons Message-ID: Date: 30 Dec 89 18:38:56 GMT Organization: Graduate School of Industrial Administration, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 33 I'll have a decaf, Mike. Anything cooler can wait till I've thawed out. No, my nerves are fine: I simply noticed that I was drinking too much coffee, so I switched to decaffinated. It doesn't taste very good, so I don't drink as much of it. Really? Now *that's* calling the kettle black! I'm not the one who decided to go into competition with the Phoenix and .. oh, thanks. Ah, a real mug, too. The diner I've wound up at too often lately has those coffee cups with the tiny bases. You know, the ones that are roughly conical towards the bottom, but flare out towards the top? No, it can't be that; they give free refills, so having less than half the apparent volume in the cup just means more work for them (or at least for the ones whose eyes you can catch). No, it's more subtle: the flaring gives the cups a roughly exponential cross section which amplifies random movements of the liquid within, so that no matter how careful the waiter is, coffee will *always* slosh into the saucer on the way to the table. High tech thinking in the service of centuries-old tradition. You, Mike, are trying to set the whole industry back ten thousand years! 'Bout time someone did. Uh, Mike, are these mugs also fifty cents? --Dani Zweig haste@andrew.cmu.edu There is a certain labor-saving notion/Dear to a lazy-minded generation, That if you can but keep your mouth in motion/Then every breath you take is conversation. --Piet Hein (grooks) Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!usc!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!mips!apple!oliveb!bu.edu!bu-cs!buengc!ho From: ho@buengc.BU.EDU (Yue-shun E. Ho) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: A Note of Thanks Message-ID: <5162@buengc.BU.EDU> Date: 31 Dec 89 21:44:45 GMT Reply-To: ho@buengc.UUCP (Yue-shun E. Ho) Distribution: alt Organization: Boston Univ. Col. of Eng. Lines: 6 I would like to thank Wm Davidsen, Arden, Hank, and the Unbeliever for taking the time to explain Callahan's Place to me and welcoming me here. I've tried to acknowledge them individually through e-mail but some of the paths didn't work well. Anyway, thanks again. - Yue-shun [ ho@buengc.bu.edu ] Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabs!hplabsz!sartin From: sartin@hplcip.hpl.hp.com Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Happy New Year to the Patron's of Callhan's Message-ID: <4564@hplabsz.HPL.HP.COM> Date: 1 Jan 90 00:00:04 GMT Sender: sartin@hplabsz.HPL.HP.COM Reply-To: sartin@hplabs.hp.com Distribution: alt Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Software Technology Lab Lines: 37 I thought I'd let the computer help me spend a part of my New Year's Eve wishing you all a Happy New Year. Don't worry. I'm not really here. This is an incredible simulation being brought to you by the wonders of time delay through cron. I'm back from a somewhat happy, somewhat sad Christmas. Happy in that I saw and enjoyed my family - I sometimes forget how lucky I am that I actually like my siblings and parents. Even if we weren't related I'd want to know them. Sad in that my SO has moved out and did not accompany me - which I suppose resulted in happiness for the standby passengers who got to fly on those four flights. Now she says she'd like for us to continue dating and I'm somewhat torn. I love her very much, but we've done nothing but create pain in each other for the last six months. "Mike, have you got Full Sail Ale?... I'll take one. Where do you get Full Sail around here anyway?" A repeat toast, but with a more positive meaning than last time I made it: "To endings and beginnings." *CRASH* On New Year's at Callahan's: According to Spider, Callhan's is (pick one) either very busy on New Year's and all of the old and ex- regulars can be found there making and reestablishing their friendships or Callhan's is almost empty because the denizens of Callahan's have better places to be on New Year's. This is one of the (now obligatory) inconsistencies of the Callhan's stories. I suppose alt.callhans is unique in that it can be both full and empty at the same time without creating an inconsistancy. I'm both here and somewhere else celebrating. Catch y'all later, Rob Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!cs.utexas.edu!wuarchive!decwrl!ucbvax!ucdavis!csusac!scott From: scott@csusac.csus.edu (L. Scott Emmons) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Message-ID: <1990Jan1.080929.17916@csusac.csus.edu> Date: 1 Jan 90 08:09:29 GMT Distribution: usa Organization: California State University, Sacramento Lines: 8 Happy new year to everyone here at Callahans, and in the rest of the known universe, and unknown universe, as well. -- L. Scott Emmons --------------- ...[!ucbvax]!ucdavis!csusac!scott ucdavis!csusac!scott@ucbvax.berkeley.edu Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!lavaca.uh.edu!elroy!cosc5sh From: cosc5sh@elroy.uh.edu (Unbeliever) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: New Decade Blues Message-ID: <5300.259ee850@elroy.uh.edu> Date: 1 Jan 90 11:19:12 GMT Organization: The Land Lines: 52 The Unbeliever rises from the corner, and many gasps of surprise are heard. He approaches the bar, looks around and says, "I bet you folks thought I had left Callahan's for Christmas break! I am eternal; I never leave. I do, on the other hand, sometimes lurk in the corner, quietly listening. I have done so too long." As if to emphasize his point, he shakes a few cobwebs out of his tattered clothes. "I have been back in that corner, guzzling eggnog like it was going out of style, in a depressed stupor. You see, today we start a new decade. On the 12th, I shall become 22 years old. Now, no sneering from the audience, but I'm getting old. Old as in, "time to start making a life for yourself" kinda old. I still haven't even the vaguest prospects of finding a girlfriend (which is my personal top priority, despite advice given here in the past about waiting patiently and letting it "happen" on it's own). My grades (my second priority), even after I go gripe at one professor because of a grade I disagree with, are still abominable (just got the report card from Fall -- OUCH!). Any hope of finding a job in the real world (priority three) is going to depend on typing speed (I'm a computer science major)... How many working computer operators do YOU know that only type 35 words per minute (and that only by looking at his hands frequently)? So, with all three of my most important priorities flushing down the toilet I enter the nineties and my twenty-second year of existance. And people wonder why I'm depressed." He hands Mike fifty cents, and asks for an empty glass (he truly has had his fill of eggnog), which he holds up to the crowd. "Three toasts: 1) To Ed! May the intensity of your pain be lessened as your telling of it reaches more ears here in Callahan's. I would be a great deal more bitter were I in your shoes (perhaps you ARE more bitter but don't show it as much?). Speaking of which... 2) To Callahan's, and the knowledge it brings that no matter how bad your troubles seem, they are trivial compared to the suffering of others! And, of course... 3) To the start of a new decade. May the pain of the eighties be forgotten as we forge ahead to the year 2000!" The Unbeliever hurls his glass at the fireplace (*CRASH*), and seats himself. This time, however, rather than slouching, he sits up straight, as though he expects to join the conversation a bit more often than before. Be True... -=*> Unbeliever <*=- +-----------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |InterNet: cosc5sh@elroy.uh.edu UUCP:...texbell!uhnix1!elroy.uh.edu!cosc5sh | +-----------------------------------------------------------------------------+ Path: mit-eddie!wuarchive!uunet!88opensi!ed From: ed@88opensi.UUCP (Ed Anderson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: How a power failure can mess up your day Keywords: Backups Backups Backups Message-ID: <349@88opensi.UUCP> Date: 1 Jan 90 10:49:00 GMT Organization: 88open Software Initiative Inc., San Jose, CA Lines: 33 He storms through the door... you can almost see the vortex form behind him as he rushes the bar.... "Mike, this is truely one of those nights, a shot of Glennfiddich please..." He pays Mike and takes the shot up to the line... Addressing the gathering he says... "Since before Christmas, my only link to sanity has been Callahans. I made a point of spending time here every day since my company shut down for the holidays. I've got nowhere else to go, so I came here. About three hours ago, the machine I've been working with crashed because of a power failure... "No problem, it'll reboot" I said to myself. It did. When it came up I was missing about 1000 files.... A THOUSAND FILES? (sorry, didn't mean to shout)." Through his teeth he says... "204 of them were alt.callahans." A nervous twitch begins in his left shoulder... "I have this workstation with a two gigs of disk space... Oh, it doesn't matter. Anyway, I forced a uunet poll and got two files... these might hold me for a while, but, will you guys/gals/creatures (which ever is applicable) PLEASE SAY SOMETHING! (there I go shouting again) The sysadmin here doesn't believe in backing up news so if someone has info on the archives (FTP) I'd like to here from you... Thanks. now for a toast: "May your power never fail you, may your disks recover if it does and may God bless Callahans in this new year!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>PaTCHINK<<<<<<< bye -- Ed Anderson up I was missing about a 1000 files.... A THOUSAND FILES! Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!bu.edu!bu-cs!buengc!ho From: ho@buengc.BU.EDU (Yue-shun E. Ho) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: New Year's Day at Callahan's Message-ID: <5176@buengc.BU.EDU> Date: 1 Jan 90 23:45:28 GMT Reply-To: ho@buengc.UUCP (Yue-shun E. Ho) Distribution: alt Organization: Boston Univ. Col. of Eng. Lines: 15 The young man goes into Callahan's again. This time, much to his expectation, the place is empty. "It's new year's day, of course. Every places close," he murmured to himself. He gets a glass of vitasoy for himself and drops off a dollar bill. He sits down quietly in the nearly empty place. He is thinking about his friends. He is thinking about his grades. He is thinking about life. He finishes his vitasoy, and throws the glass into the fireplace. But, there is no crash. Only silence. "New Year's Day is not meant to be a happy day," he said to himself. Slowly, he moves to the entrance and disappears. - Yue-shun Path: mit-eddie!bbn!granite!Mandel From: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: How a power failure can mess up your day Keywords: Backups Backups Backups Message-ID: <1990Jan2.031726.14896@granite.cr.bull.com> Date: 2 Jan 90 03:17:26 GMT References: <349@88opensi.UUCP> Sender: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com Reply-To: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Organization: Bull HN Information Systems Inc. Lines: 11 (The guy with the 50/50 black and silver hair pulls a thick sheaf of papers out of somewhere.) Ed, this advice may not be too welcome at this moment, but it's a variation on an old Chinese proverb, and it may save you some grief later: "The palest ink is safer than the most retentive magnetic medium." I hope you can recover your files, though. -- -- Mark Mandel /* My employer is not responsible for anything I say, do, think, or eat. */ Path: mit-eddie!rutgers!mailrus!uunet!88opensi!ed From: ed@88opensi.UUCP (Ed Anderson) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: New Decade Blues Summary: Just be glad you aren't Berek Halfhand, typing would be much more interesting! Message-ID: <350@88opensi.UUCP> Date: 2 Jan 90 08:55:11 GMT References: <5300.259ee850@elroy.uh.edu> Organization: 88open Software Initiative Inc., San Jose, CA Lines: 93 From his seat near the entry way he stands... The smile on his face; evidence of a somewhat happier disposition. "Call me crazy, call me a scrooge, but I am relieved that the holidays are behind us now. I look to the future for my "happy holidays", now is not such a time for me. But my time will come..." Turning to the Unbeliever he says... "Thankyou for your toast my friend... You'll never know what it has done for me. And yes, I do have some bitterness left in me... but it recedes with the increasing knowledge that my situation is not uncommon. Also the bitterness is not towards any one person, the bitterness is more the 20/20-hindsight-type. It will pass." "In reference: ]How many working computer operators do YOU know that only type 35 words ]per minute (and that only by looking at his hands frequently)? I am one!... I've worked on everything from Apples II's to Cray's and I still can't type!... You have the advantage on me because(as of yet), I have no degree or any prospects of earning one for 4 years(and that's if I started right away). Don't Worry, Be Hoppy!" "I'm sure Berek had alot of trouble typing too (that's Thomas Covenant jurble for those of you not familiar with the Unbeliver.)..." "In reference: From: ho@buengc.BU.EDU (Yue-shun E. Ho) ]He finishes his vitasoy, and throws the glass into the fireplace. ] But, there is no crash. Only silence. "New Year's Day is not ] meant to be a happy day," he said to himself. Slowly, he moves to ] the entrance and disappears. Now turning to Yue-shun he says... "My friend, I'm surprised you did not see me here, I was here on New-Years Day also... Your glass did not break... You missed the fireplace altogether, the glass landed softly on tabbifly's pillow(luckily she was not on it at the time). I picked it up for you, but you left before I could give it to you..." He sets the glass down on the table in front of Yue-shun... "New-Years day was meant to be a happy day... It's the prospect of a fresh start." Turning to address everyone he says... "I'm not a student but I know many of you are... The problem of grades appears many times in this group. When I was in High School, I always got crap from my parents because my grades weren't anything near the grades my brother and sisters were getting... In fact my High School GPA was an embarrasing 2.4. I was tossed into remedial classes because the "powers that be" thought I suffered from learning dissabilities(yes thats plural). I was in this one remedial math class with two "druggies", one poor guy who suffered from Oxygen Deprevation at birth and a very bright but mis-labeled girl with Down's Syndrome... Funny thing was though, nobody cared that I had memorized the 6502 instruction set or found that programming in Assembly was boring and unchallenging so I did it in Hex... To make a long story short, academia was never my bag, but I know this, grades are relative to you as an individual. If you worry about the difference between A and B or 4.0 and 3.85, your perfectionism is getting the best of you... If you worry about the difference between A or C, or A or D, or A or F, then you might need to evaluate your efforts. If you worked hard but didn't get the grade you expected, find out why. Get assistance if you need it... But NEVER think that the grade reflects any abilities you have or don't have. Do your best, thats all you can do." "I've worked in the "real world" for over 8 years, I don't dig ditches and I don't bus tables. I used to do odd jobs because nobody would hire a High School droppout for a programming postion. However, those of you working for degrees, have it made(as far as getting in the door is concerned ), the challenge for you will be in the real application of your chosen professions, long after you have forgotten the lowsey grade you got on that PSYCH midterm way back in 1989..." "I have the highest respect for the intestinal fortitude it takes to go to school, and put up with the problems of grades, pressure and cost of living. You'll be O.K.!" Hoping he hasn't overstepped his bounds, he smiles and goes to the bar. "Mike, 7 n' 7 in a tall glass if you will..." He take the drink and leaves a dollar on the bar. "A toast: To the Unbeliever! thank you for your support, and to all of you who endure the race to its finish... Salute!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>PaTCHINK!<<<< ----------------------------------------------------------------------- ARTHUR: "The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in purest shimmering samite, held Excalibur aloft from the bosom of the waters to signify that by Divine Providence... I, Arthur was to carry Excalibur... that is why I am your King." DENNIS: "You can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you." Taken from: "Monty Python and the Holy Grail (Script)". Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!shelby!lindy!news From: GE.LJB@forsythe.stanford.edu (Louis J Bookbinder) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: divorce and other heartbreaks Message-ID: <6820@lindy.Stanford.EDU> Date: 2 Jan 90 22:47:24 GMT Sender: news@lindy.Stanford.EDU (News Service) Lines: 91 The door opens slowly and a metallic face looks in. Nobody in the bar. Why is the door open? [The door is ALWAYS open, DUMMY!] No, wait, a young man and an unbeliever in rags sit quietly discussing over drinks in a dim corner of the room. [The only room in the world with n > any number you can imagine corners] So the person with the metallic face walks in. A baldish head peers up over the bar. "Hey Nick, back again? Aint got nothing to drink yet!" [AMAZING - MIKE HAS EVERYTHING ALCOHOLIC EVER INVENTED!] "It's OK, Mike, I got a can of WD-40 from Jilara this morning. It may not be a legitimate spirit, but it is at least palatable." Mike stands up, wipes his hands on his apron. "Now, why didn't I think of that?! I got a feeling we're gonna have some other mechanicals here in time. Maybe some of the techies who wander in here from time to time have some ideas for tastier hydrocarbons! Normally I am like most barkeeps and don't want patrons to byob, but this time is ok. Uh, can you pay for the fuel when I have it in stock?" The tin man looks thoughtful then smiles (well, his eyes light up, anyhow). "Hey, it's really cold this winter, how about chopping some firewood for your hearth?" Mike grins and says "Sure, but I need a source of wood more than the chopping. Can you do that?" "Think so." Nick sits down at a table with a young man behind an empty mug, his head buried in his arms. "You asleep, friend?" "Nah, just remembering a wife and a daughter no longer mine" The head does not come up. Silence for long moments. Nick lifts his WD-40 can (aerosol removed) and takes one careful sip. More silence. "I don't know if this helps," he says. "I was betrothed once, and betrayed when I lost my humanity. Wasn't a divorce, but still a betrayal. I can't blame her - what can a tin man offer a meat woman? "My sig supplier below once was divorced. He said it felt like a betrayal, also, but we both agree that such desparate actions, even a divorce, are not done without reason. In our cases, the reasons were understandable. Booky's wife left him because neither of them were ready for marriage in the first place. No kids. Didn't dampen the pain much. "It is important to try to understand why the opposite party feels justified in the sundering. It doesn't lessen the pain. It doesn't lead to forgiveness. It doesn't make it right. It helps derail hate. Hate is a feeling which transcends life itself." Nick takes another careful sip. Ed's head comes up for a moment, goes back down. "I was fortunate I got past the hate quickly. I was able to shed the blame because I couldn't honestly blame her and not blame myself. I was careless. Suddenly it was too late to make up. She went one way and I said 'Godspeed'" I played fair, and so did she. "I am sorry yours was not fair. You lost so much, and learned so little. The only consolation I can give you is that she knows she betrayed you and either must live with that guilt for the rest of her life, or else step over the line of sanity into self-denial. "Where does love go when a relationship dies? Heck, where does life go when it does? I don't know. In a way, it doesn't - a part of the heart, even mine, keeps the memory of love. It is a pain which only time heals. So we must see the love for a real thing which exists, and cannot be erased because others wish it to not be. We cannot use this love the way originally intended, of course. We have to accept it as an important part of what we are and re-direct it to where it can do the most good - for ourselves and for others." Mike, polishing glasses behind the bar, has been listening quietly. He suddenly looks over, alarmed. A tear is running down Nick's metal cheek. "Nick! Lay off the tears! You'll rust solid!" He throws him a rag which the metal man quickly applies. "Thanx" "Why is this place so sad at New Year's? Where are all the comics when you need them? I can't take much more sadness! Maybe I should go out and stand in the rain" "Nuts" Mike growls, "It's too cold for rain. Buck up, Tin-plate, You gotta stick around longer for the high times. Come back in tonight and I'll have some proper spirits. Maybe the patrons will, too. Try us" Nick pats Ed's arm lightly. "Thanx" comes the muffled reply. Nick gets up, turns around, and clanks to the door. "And Thank you, Mike" He goes out into the cold. Fade. Booky - You Bet! (What? me? opinions? Bo) GE.LJB@Forsythe.stanford.edu