Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!shelby!lindy!news From: GE.LJB@forsythe.stanford.edu (Louis J Bookbinder) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Cinder fella drops in Message-ID: <7200@lindy.Stanford.EDU> Date: 15 Jan 90 18:51:59 GMT Sender: news@lindy.Stanford.EDU (News Service) Lines: 80 There is a loud CRASH!!! from the fireplace (altho no toast has been made) and a large metal contraption rolls out on the floor sending sparks every which way. Amid shouts and screems Mike and Tom come running in with fire extinguishers to prevent a major conflagration. A few well-directed blasts and the danger is over and the metal contraption turns out to be none other than... "Nick Chopper," says Mike, "I'm getting a little tired of your noisy entrances. But dropping down the chimney is totally out of line! You trying to make an ash of yourself?" Nick sits up and looks around, then down at his scortched and tarnished tin torso. "Darn, where will I get the polish to clean up this mess?!" Tom hands Nick a broom. "First clean up the mess you made on Mike's clean floor!" Nick clanks to his feet, ashes and charcoal showering down. Under his breath he mumbles "And that nasty comment in the first line - SOMEBODY was trying to make toast!" "What?" asks Mike. "Nothing. Sorry. My fault. Big mouth." He begins to slowly sweep the floor. A bysitter (why stand in Callahan's?) asks "How DID you end up in the flames, Tin Man?" "*Sigh*" Theatrically, Nick rubs his arm across his metal forehead. It sounds rather like a stove-pipe falling on a tin roof. "I brought a flame into Callahan's last week. I called those who engage in ethical argument 'dorks'. I then argued ethically. I did this on purpose as a joke, but it was flamage, nevertheless, and it looks like I was incinerated in return. I suppose this is a lesson to net-landers to avoid the incendiaries. Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb!" He shakes his head and continues sweeping. "What was the argument?" askes bysitter. "Well, seems someone proposed that there is an ethical dilemma if a person suddenly experiencing a totally bewildering perceptual field and presented with a fight-or-die situation refused to fight. Did I get that correct, whoever you were? Anyhow, I asserted that refusing to fight was neither cowardly nor courageous, but stupid. I still hold that to be true. I have been in some pretty wierd places in Oz, and while not totally bewildering, I never felt I was unjustified in saving my own skin, er, plating. Seems to me the only restriction to fighting is against needlessly endangering the lives of others. If it only SEEMS that I am threatened, then I can whole-heartedly defend myself because I have no way of knowing for sure that I don`t just SEEM to injure my attacker. We are always at the mercy of our sensory limitations. So we make the most of what we got" "Even if it all turns out to be a dream?" Bysitter takes another drink. Nick sweeps the last of the ashes back into the hearth, leans on the broom. "Sure. You LIKE to get killed in your dreams? Not me!" "Point" "See, I really AM the dork to get into this argument. My answer is no better that anyone else's and really cannnot ever be. Always we have to make our own ethical decisions and we seldom have time to think them through. Dilemmas are merely ethical decisions where either choice (assuming only 2) offends our sensibilities. "But I am betting that the reason for my unfortunate accident was that I was too stupid to get the question clarified before I stuck my metal foot in my mouth. THAT was REALLY dumb! "When will I ever learn?!" Nick flips the broom over his shoulder and marches off to the storeroom mumbling "Now, where did I put my ax?" amid amused chuckles throughout the place. The fire crackles merrily in the hearth, reminding all of the dangers of flames. Booky - You Bet! (What? me? opinions? Bo) GE.LJB@Forsythe.stanford.edu Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bu-cs!lll-winken!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!ux1.cso.uiuc.edu!tank!cps3xx!usenet From: usenet@cps3xx.UUCP (Usenet file owner) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Would like a little advice from the bar ... Keywords: advice, scotch Message-ID: <6028@cps3xx.UUCP> Date: 15 Jan 90 20:10:40 GMT Reply-To: frey@frith.egr.msu.edu (Zachary Frey) Distribution: alt Organization: Michigan State University, College of Engineering Lines: 22 Hello, howdy, greetings, and salutations! I've noticed a trend here -- a lot of people are ordering shots of Glenfiddich to make their toasts. Well, recently a friend of mine introduced me to good Scotch (you guessed it, Glenfiddich) and I'm hooked. I'd like to start expanding my knowledge of other brands, but, being a poor college student, I don't have the funds to just go out and pick random bottles off store shelves. Any favorites? Suggestions? (Keep in mind that I *like* Glenfiddich, and don't know what the range or types of flavors in Scotches is.) [And if anyone feels that this is inappropriate for this newsgroup, I'd like to point out that this *is* a bar ... :^) ] Zach <<<* Occaisional Wise Man and Perpetual Fool *>>> 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. Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bu-cs!lll-winken!uunet!mcsun!sunic!tut!ousrvr!news From: yaz@tolsun.oulu.fi (Tuomas K. Kaikkonen) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: tommi talks again... Message-ID: Date: 15 Jan 90 16:12:05 GMT References: Sender: news@ousrvr.oulu.fi Distribution: alt Organization: University of Oulu, Finland Lines: 157 In-reply-to: so-tvk@stekt.oulu.fi's message of Mon, 8 Jan 90 01:29:03 GM An young man arrives. He just appears to be here, sitting right next to Tommi (a friend of luru if you don't know tommi by name). These two look quite similiar. In fact they are twins. He nods to luru and puts his hand on tommi's shoulder to wake him up from his thoughts. "Hi! I'm sorry I have had no time for you -- all of you. Funny. Right now I don't know what to say. Like when you know you have to deliver a speech about something, and you plan in your mind what you are going to say, but then when you should open your mouth and speak -- deadlock, your brains enter a loop what should I say. That happens mostly when you don't know your audience or are not sure about the subject." That was a long replic from him. He notices that almost everyone have a drink in front of them. He pauses and lets his eyes wander around the crow. You can see from his eyes when he sees a friend or acquistance. "Tommi, you know that I almost lost my hope last Juletide. I just realized that I have to take care of myself. No-one else is going to do that. My studies went as they can when you don't follow the classes, mostly IRC all nights and sleep the days." He pauses and takes a look around, again, around the tabel. "Funny, not funny but..." He thinks again and continues. "You can only understand it when it happens to yourself. IT is just anything, mostly feelings: love, lack of self esteem, uncertainity. The first is wonderful experience, the second is terrifying." "After realizing that what I had done I lost my self esteem. I was very uncertain about everything I did. That's dangerous -- you can do nothing if you think 'I cannot do that' or 'what should I do now'" "Life is like driving school -- and what's then driving license if we follow the analogy." He grins softly. "Is that happiness ? Something commonly accepted as 'status'. Something that states you have succeeded in life." "I got myself back. Thanks my father and all the good people I know or who have given me new ideas. I started to plan my life -- first I planned which tests I am going to take and so on. Of course I took too much." He grins again. And continues. It seems like he found his inner flame. "Now I have to read, read, read, and read. And set priorities to tasks: which is the most important, and what I can do if I have *time*." "The keyword of all this is TIME. And the philosofy is called Time Management. If you feel uncomfortable of your present life situation -- that you are not doing your best, that you can't find *time* for everything that *have to get done*. I maybe sound a bit fanatic about Time Management, but that's what I am: fanatic. And I always want to get things done in my own way." He pauses. "And sometimes it's not the easiest way..." He gots carried away and mumbles: "...there is time for joy and time for love... time for forgetting and sorrows..." And continues. "Sorry, got carried away. Do I have time for feelings ? If I try to program my life like I was a robot with (artifical) intelligence." He sighs and continues: "Something I found out about life is that when you worry about your present situation and the past, then you can't dream or plan. To not worry, think too hard, but do what has to get done -- aim your loaded bows, find a target, and fire. Don't hesitate, don't think 'what if I miss it' -- go for it." He pauses again and looks around. "It's so easy to say. Think what you want and do what you want. If you miss, don't worry -- find another arrow and load again. You can also have as many as ten bows aimed simultaneously to different targets. You can also reaim." He looks if you are still interested in the subject or should he shut his big mouth and continues. "I am very quiet in public. The smaller and more familiar the audience is the more I talk. On the other hand if the audience is somehow stimulating or if they have no idea whatsoever about me, who I am and what they can expect of me, also then I tend to be more open. The English language is a kind of shield to me. I can hide behind it." He pauses and continues quickly. "Oh well. I should be going now. I didn't say all that what I came here for but... perhaps that's better. One word can say it all and the word is... Life." Did he laugh. Well, almost... a singe bit of laughter. Not much. He sighs again and gets up. "Friends, I am very sorry that I have to leave you now. All the sorrow, misery, love, and joy you have in you -- I can't take and listen it all despite the fact that I am consider myself a most empath person. I truly hope you have enough friends, that you can share your worries, find always an ear. Sometimes I dusgust myself, because I tend to take without giving anything. I try to my best." He smiles softly. "I always find time for friends. Perhaps I don't have that many true friends. Oh well, I'm going now but before I go I'd like to have a drink... I'm thirsty." He walks to the bar and asks Mike for a glass of water. Sips if down and says: "to YOU" and throws the glass to the fireplace. The glass hits its target but produces no sound. How odd. Perhaps the young man does not want to get that much attention after his monology. Before he walks out he says: "Oh, by the way, if you know the IRC. I used to be a regural on IRC in 1988 and 1989. This year, in 1990, I have promised to cut down my IRCing. But I won't leave you. Sometimes I'll peek in IRC and greet my friends and have a nice chat with them. I don't want to lose friends. If you really need me, e-mail me. If you don't know should you e-mail me or not, do the first: do e-mail, because friends have the highest priority." He looks like he would smile and eventually he does smile... "Bye my friends! I'll be back..." And so is he gone. Where ? That we don't know. Perhaps he is wandering the corridors of the University of Oulu. Perhaps he is reading for the next test, or for the next three tests. Wherever his physical body is, his spirit follows the call of the wild. He is spiritually a lion but physically a crawford. Apparently he tends to hide his feelings, and usually express himself so that only one who really knows him knows what he means. That's a pity though, if he just learnt to be more open and trust in people, and himself. But it's better me to let himself write his book, life. Perhaps he learnes by writing, living, his life -- sometimes he seems very stubborn and looks like he feels like rebelling against every rule and everyone. Let him experience. His still a kid. Let him find his path. We, etheral beings, have lived thosands of lives. We are experienced enough. Our mortal reflexions need to experience, until they find the peace. This text was written down by the greater side of yaz. *smile* -=*=- -- Tuomas Kaikkonen Phone: +358-81-563 081 (voice)"One of the equal policies Taidonkaari 1 E 36 INTERNET: yaz@tolsun.oulu.fi of life is that no one 90570 Oulu EARN/BitNet: TKOP-TKK at FINOU gets life experience FINLAND FidoNet: 2:515/810 beforehand." Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bu-cs!nntp-read!austin From: austin@bucsf.bu.edu (Austin H. Ziegler, III) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Farewell Message-ID: Date: 15 Jan 90 21:00:23 GMT Sender: news@bu.edu.bu.edu Organization: Boston University College of Engineering Lines: 31 Magyk teleports out of the bar. A few minutes later, Austin comes in. "I've been thinking about a lot over Christmas, and I came to some conclusions. "I've been called an empath. I think highly of the people that called me that, but I'm not sure that I want to be an empath. You see, empaths are, as one of their/our (many) faults, quite arrogant. In any case, I saw some poor trends developing in myself while I considered myself an empath. "I am also unqualified to be an Empath (greater empath) because I am prejudiced, much as I try not to be. Some members of Callahan's are believers in druidism, or are called Wiccans. I have problems with the beliefs I've heard about because I come from a strict Christian upbringing, although I am very open-minded about most subjects (including religion). I do not think these people are bad because of what they believe, but I cannot agree with what they believe. "Since I cannot deal with many ideas presented here in Callahan's (someone said that suicide *is* an option--this was said just before Christmas) I do not think that it is valid for me to remain here longer. I cannot pay attention with the high volume, and Callahan's has changed from its original intent, I believe. "To all of my friends, my net addresses are austin@bucsf.bu.edu, austin@bucsb.bu.edu, and engc8vc@buacca.bu.edu. I can respond to mail, but I will be on the system less. I'll also be on IRC, but again, less than normal. Farewell." He turns, and walks out into the snow. . . +--------------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+ | Austin Herbert Ziegler | austin@ bucsf.bu.edu | | | 700 Commonealth Box 2094 | bucsb.bu.edu | | | Boston, MA 02215 | engc8vc@buacca.bu.edu | | +--------------------------+-----------------------+-----------------------+ Path: mit-eddie!mit-amt!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!pt.cs.cmu.edu!andrew.cmu.edu!ap1i+ From: ap1i+@andrew.cmu.edu (Andrew C. Plotkin) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Back with green card Message-ID: Date: 15 Jan 90 20:33:54 GMT Organization: Class of '92, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA Lines: 32 I walk in (staggering slightly from the after-effects of my first college-served meal in four weeks) and take a seat in the central area -- where I can hear anything important from the corners. I flash a green card at Mike; I'm gonna stay in here from now on... Root beer. Stand, front and center. Yo all. I had a satisfactory vacation with many many friends -- new, old, very new (two days), and very old (sixteen years!) And what I should have said is "many many friends, minus one." That's what I'm toasting. She and I broke up about two years ago. I handled it badly, and refused to speak to her for a *nasty* long time, but I thought we were over that and at least friendly acquaintances again. Well, we were both at Evecon last weekend. Due to logistical arrangements, I was sharing a hotel room with her and her SO (along with three or four other random people.) (Who says the Universe has no sense of humor?) But that wasn't what hurt; it was that she didn't want to talk to me. At all. I can hardly blame her -- I had done the same to her, and much less politely. I didn't press the point. But two injuries (I can't call it a "wrong") don't make a cure. It wasn't fun; I doubt it was fun for her (although I don't *know*. I don't know the inside of her head any more. Not that I ever did, very clearly -- that why we broke up -- but it's a loss.) Well. To ex-friends -- and doing better next time. . >smash< --Z Path: mit-eddie!bloom-beacon!shelby!apple!usc!cs.utexas.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM!jane From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman x2637) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: The Woman Beside Message-ID: <9001151717.AA03010@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Date: 16 Jan 90 01:17:24 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 57 Jilara has been sitting listening to all this discussion about soulmates, significant others, relationships, and all of the various relationship mutations that affect those in Callahan's Place. She sighs heavily and shakes her head. "Listen up, children, and let Auntie Jilara tell you about relationships that might not have even occurred to you. Friends, lovers, all those things---'the many ways of loving,' as Chris de Burgh puts it in one of his songs..." She stares moodily into the fire. "The men I've been closest too have never been lovers," she says softly, watching the flames and the broken glass. "That is why I am going to tell you about The Woman Beside." Her voice grows in volume a little. "I've never been a conventional female, and probably never will be. We are the ones who, in our era, were the tomboys and general rebellious little houligans. But there ones throughout the ages, the women who didn't fit the mold. Some were famous, like Joan of Arc, others were just average people. But I have come to call them The Women Who Ride Beside. You see, there are two types of women: the woman who rides on the saddle, before or behind her man, and the Woman Who Rides Beside. They are far different entities. Sometimes, I believe that the lesser (for so she seems to outsiders) is indeed the greater, the woman who rides beside on her own horse, for she Understands---the fires, the motives, the goals, the Ideals, and the Destiny that pulls them along the road of their shared quest. The other woman knows only that she companions this man: she knows where they ride, but not truly why. She holds his affection, bears him company, and returns him love for love. But she does not truly share, for she does not fully understand what drives him, for his way is not her own; she merely bears him company and love. And thus, the seemingly lonely woman, who shares this quest, this goal, and rides apart---she has the true understanding, the empathy if you will, because she is on the same quest, and understands Why. Her thoughts and dreams reach out, and clasp hands with his, needing no closer bond. The other women, who ride with the man, these are the ones men marry, who cook their food, bear their children, love them, support them, and offer them devotion of a lifetime. The few of us not bent to that mold, we are the ones who understand when they speak to us of the goals and dreams, mother-hen and mother-confessor, battle-comrad and companion of the road. I have my own quest, even as they. Because of that, I will probably never share someone's life, because I cannot surrender my own dreams for those of another. I know what society expects of women, and know I cannot meet that expectation. But I can share thoughts, and dreams, and keep people going, and offer insights into maintaining their relationships with the women in their lives. And maybe, ultimately, I am richer." She smiles, perhaps a little sadly. "There are prices for everything. But then, some of us just never were cut out for conventional roles. I just want to reiterate that maybe there are more type of soulmates than just the one everyone thinks of. Just a little food for thought." She suddenly grins. "And you'll never find us mentioned in Cosmo, thank God!" And many people laugh. ---Jilara the Exile (I hope.) "If I'm not home accepting what I cannot change, I'm out changing what I can't accept." ---Ashleigh Brilliant (alternate identity may be jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.com---don't you love computers with identity crises?) Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bu-cs!bu-pub!spacey From: spacey@bu-pub.bu.edu (Eva Chan) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Tomorrow Just Another Day? Message-ID: Date: 16 Jan 90 05:08:53 GMT Sender: news@bu.edu.bu.edu Distribution: alt Organization: Boston University Computer Science Lines: 62 Slowly Eva transforms into a bunny. Not a tiny little bunny, but a larger one, but still having the same qualities as the smaller counterpart. In front of her appears a set of books, notebooks, and pens. Looks like it's that time again, to go out and work her tail off. But how successful will she be this semester? She hops over to Mike. "Mike? A nice tall glass of carrot juice please?" And hands him a dollar. She then hops back to her seat in front of Luru and Tommi. She carefully sips the carrot juice, careful against spilling any over her books. Then sighs a heavy sigh. "Another day in class. This break seems to have gone by too fast. But this break has given me much. I have found a few new friends and perhaps a bit of hope for this coming semester and beyond. But there is a lot of work to be done." SHe gazes off into the distance as if she sees the impending workload advancing towards her. "I just hope i dont make any mistakes this time. I cant afford any. My future depends on this semester. There is much to be done in so little time. I am trying to fuel that inner fire right now. After listening to Luru talk last time, I feel that I can try and strive. It will take some effort, but one must work to get what is wanted or needed." "I hope I'm not sounding to depressed. Perhaps a bit more philosophical and a bit more contemplative. This break I have thought things over. And I have talked to a few people. I think all I really needed were someone to talk to." "Ever since high school, I've never really had any close friends. I had friends, but not one I can tell everything to. Then when college came around, I started fresh. New friends were made and some old ones lost to time and distance. But still, I havent found any *one* person I can tell everything to. Then I met my present boyfriend." "Everything is peachy keen, but still, i needed that one friend. I cant always tell everything to my boyfriend, if you know what I mean. I needed someone to whom i can talk about things I have done, doing, or planning to do, and not necessarily just with my SO either, but just everyday things and little confidences (is that the right term?). Then after finding IRC, I began to find people I can talk to and be a bit more open to. Then I found Callahans and wrote what I felt. Then with break I had a chance to strengthen a few friendships, long distant as a few of them may be." "Well, it's after midnight right now, and I must get some sleep if I am to be awake and alert for my first class. I'll be around, that's for sure." "A toast to all in school, and a toast to those who have already made it thru!" *GULP!* >>>>>>tinkle<<<<<<< (bunnies cant throw very hard) Then with a small hop, she picks up her books and heads for the door. But first she gives both Luru and tommi a quick little peck on the cheek. -- Eva Chan spacey@bu-pub.bu.edu (e-mail is always appreciated) Cheers! And may you enjoy life! Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!bbn!granite!Mandel From: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: tommi talks again... Summary: Hang in there! Message-ID: <1990Jan16.033607.6677@granite.cr.bull.com> Date: 16 Jan 90 03:36:07 GMT References: Reply-To: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Distribution: alt Organization: Bull HN Information Systems Inc. Lines: 50 (The guy with 50-50 black and silver hair, who has been sitting quietly in corner #157, looks up at Tommi's monologue. Now he gets up, goes to the bar to refill his drink , then turns to lean his back against the bar and address whoever wants to listen, and especially Tommi's departing back.) I'm glad you've found the things to hold on to, Tuomas. Don't you guys up in Suomi have a word, "sisu"? I'd heard that it means something like "tenacity", or what my dad used to call "stick-to-it-ive-ness". Don't be afraid to come out into the world, bit by bit. I've been in here a few times and said a little bit -- I wasn't sure I was getting heard and seen, but a couple of new friends have assured me about that. (A smile to Jilara, a nod to Luru.) I spent an awful lot of my childhood & teen years feeling invisible, so it was important to me to know that any lack of reaction around here was just a lack of anyone's having anything to say in response. Mary-Anne (another smile) first introduced me to the Place, and then to this incarnation of it. But I feel I should be introducing myself before I say any more. I am pretty much as you see me: silver and black hair, six feet tall on a good day and not quite a middle-aged spread at the belt, glasses, and often an air of not quite being firmly rooted in the here-and-now. I usually answer to my real name, which is Mark; but in this virtual and virtuous Place, no one but Mary-Anne has more than my electronic presence by which to know me, and to which to fasten any name; and there are many Marks in the world. (I have always felt that in the year I was born, 1948, a million American mothers congratulated themselves on their originality and named a million sons Mark.) So, if you like, you can call me Silverblack. I don't have much else to say right now, except that Tommi's remark about Time Management rings very true for me. If I can't get a handle on my time and energy, I may be in rather serious trouble, and that's not a joke. Right now my wife has reminded me, quite correctly, that I have to get up in the morning and I am no longer able to stay up long hours. (I don't know if she would feel at home here, but she's used to my spending time in electronic bars.) So, my toast for tonight. (Silverblack, or Mark, toes the mark, finishes his beer, and takes aim at the fireplace.) To caring for each other, and its precondition: caring for ourselves. (CRASHHHH)) Good night, new friends. -- -- Mark Mandel (InterNet: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com) /* My employer is not responsible for anything I say, do, think, or eat. */ Path: mit-eddie!bu.edu!bu-cs!bu-pub.bu.edu!ckd From: ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Return of the... um... well, I'm back, anyway. Message-ID: Date: 16 Jan 90 10:58:42 GMT Sender: news@bu.edu.bu.edu Reply-To: ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu (Christopher Davis) Distribution: alt Organization: Boston University School of Management Lines: 82 A yellow column of light appears in a clear area near the bar; as people stand back, a whining noise rises, then falls, and a young man wearing a "Phoenix in '93" t-shirt and gray pants appears, carrying a backpack. "Well, folks, I'm back in Boston--though I had some access to the system over break, it was expensive enough that I couldn't afford to read news without buying the phone company first...and now I've spent hours going through almost a month's worth of messages. "This message is almost #750 at my site; seems like not long ago I was seeing #75... or even #7. But enough of this stupid rambling, eh? On to my short responses to a few threads... "Seeing close friends-that-you-wanted-to-be-more marrying... I know that feeling. I know it rather well, in fact...from both past experience and a similar situation that I'm in now. Those involved know the details, and for the rest of you, well, we care about each other, and she loves someone else. She complains that it's not fair to me, but I don't know if 'fair' is really a useful term in these matters anyway--and I don't want her to feel guilty, or feel that she 'owes' me anything, because she doesn't. I have no right to expect anything from her, and I think our friendship is something that is as valuable--nay, *more* valuable by far--than some 'relationships' I've been in where we weren't *real* friends. "As with Bunny, I'm back at school--my goodness, my classes start in seven hours, and I've not slept yet tonight, and probably won't--and already wishing I'd had more time on my vacation. "Y'see, I got lucky. I live about an hour away from Tabbifli (when I'm in Washington, that is; it's a 6- or 7-hour flight from Boston). While I was home, I was able to meet her and many other wonderful folks at a New Year's Eve party--where I started my second decade among friends-I'd-just-met, watching anime, and just bein'-with-folks--and also to take her out for dinner (despite her protests that I'd have to make two round-trips, about an hour each leg, in my fuel-guzzling pickup) the night before I had to leave. 'Course, luck cuts both ways; in order to have time to pack, I had to cut the evening shorter than I would have liked, but I did get the chance to meet Melissa and Tabbifli in person(s). "On that trip home, I think I found a bit of myself that'd been behind a wall for a while. I think there's someone who'll find out a little more about me than they already knew, within the next few days, assuming the Post Orifice doesn't eat it. "As for the rest of you, perhaps I'll burst forth with my long-winded melancholia sometime, or perhaps I'll spare you the details, as I've tried to do here. "Meanwhile, I've a toast to make. It's a repeat of one I've toasted time and time again, a toast to people who've been there with support, caring, and all those great callahans.things... a toast to the folks who sit in the innumerable corners and lurk, and to those who boldly toast what no one has toasted before... (Star Trek music begins, in background) CUT THAT OUT! (music stops, suddenly) "To my friends. All of them, everywhere, whether they're here on the Net or whether they've never even heard of it. To everyone here, because you've made this Place what it is. [Music begins again, Three Dog Night's "Joy to the World"] "Let it play! 'Joy to the world, all the boys and girls, Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, Joy to you and me.' "Oh, and small snippets of songs, or poems, or the like--they generally fall under the 'fair-use doctrine.' Full postings? They're a different matter. Best to get permission. "Echoing Jake--'To my family...*each and every one of you.*'" "Best wishes for the '90s, folks; I'll be around every now and then. I'll try to hold down the number of administrivia-type postings; if anyone's got questions about anything they think I might be able to help on [anywhere from mail-to-news gateways to broken relationships] I'm here to listen--my mailbox is always open. Just toss off a note to ckd@bu-pub.bu.edu, and I'll do what I can." -- 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 Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!ULKYVX.BITNET!wlbrad01 From: wlbrad01@ULKYVX.BITNET (Original Jamz) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: New Guy Gives a Toast Message-ID: <1wlbrad01@ULKYVX.bitnet> Date: 16 Jan 90 13:28:00 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Organization: University of Louisville Lines: 98 The swingin' doors o' Callahans open wide for a brief moment, and Jen enters the pub with a sparkle in her eye and a bounce in her walk. She smiles at Mike, who hands her a huge frosty mug of root beer. The mug is too large for her to toast with, so she finds a convenient corner booth and relaxes. She smiles, looks around, makes small-talk with those who pass, but one gets the suspicion that something is wrong...every five minutes or so she intently stares out a window. Every so often she goes and asks Mike about something; Mike only shakes his head. "The lass is seein' things," he laughs. Enough is enough...she gets up after about a half an hour and leaves. Only to return fifteen minutes later with a stranger. The stranger looks like a student of some sort; a typical description would be 5"10', 130 lbs., wearing a red sweater, ivory scarf, and a faded leather jacket with a red heart on the right sleeve. He has short red (almost auburn) hair, and eyes of lightened hazel. She walks the new guy around; she points him out to Mike, who hands him a drink (looks like a Long Island Tea). Jen introduces him to Tabbifli and Luru and the Unbeliever, who all regard him strangely until the heart on his jacket glows. This satisfies them; they must have gained some insight into who he is. At some slight prompting from Mike and Jen, he asks for attention, stands on a table, clears his throat, and begins to speak. "Hello, lovers. I've been observing this bar, taking in the atmosphere as you say, for a few weeks now. And the first thing I must say about you is you are some of the most sympathetic people I have ever watched. Whenever any of you have a problem, the others empathize and sympathize and make the good cheer of that person a number one priority. There is love here; I can feel it. "Which, for a while, was the main reason I never came in. I wasn't needed here. "You see, my friends, I am the last of the Cupids. I explained it best to my new friend, Jen, as a minion of Eros in a human form. I'm not the Cupid you all read about as children, a bright, bouncy cherub with heart-shaped arrows. I do my duty simply by observing life and seeing where love is needed, and finding love to put there. On a recent resume I believe I labeled myself as an 'Affection Distribution Engineer.' And by wearing my Heart on my Sleeve I attest to the fact that I give love freely to all. The heart on his jacket is pulsing slowly now, like a very passionate heartbeat. "Even as a teen, I've played matchmaker between my friends. And even if their relationship only lasted a few weeks, I was happy that love was shared. I've created love between creatures as small as paramecia and as large as whales. "However, my powers have one limitation. I've always been unable to find a match for myself. When I first talked to Eros himself, he placed that one limitation on my abilities. At first, I really didn't mind, but it began to wear on me. "I figured that my friends would do the same for me that I once did for them; I hoped they would find someone and introduce me to them. But that never happened. My friends just went on their merry way, oblivious to my problems." The heart is beating faster now, basking part of the bar in an eerie red glow. "But HEY!" he says, lifting his drink high. "I come not to depress myself, Mike, or his patrons, I come to CELEBRATE!" The heart, rapidly pulsing, bathes the entire room in light. "For the first time in my life, I have found that which I have given! "Oh, I have had relationships before, but few had lasted longer than a month or two. I have had my share of one-night stands, but they left me lonely and unfulfilled. I had begun to give up on the dream which I brought to life for so many others. "But NO! A friend of two years finally granted my wish and made my lifelong quest come TRUE!" The Heart on His Sleeve ignites, sending a warm breeze through Callahans. All who feel it are reminded of loved ones both far and near; either a current "someone", the warmth of family, thoughts of close friends, or memories of those no longer with us. A feeling of pure contentment, nearly sensual in quality, passes through the bar. As his heart cools and the room settles, many people light cigarettes. The Cupid does not. "A TOAST, my friends! To the Cupids of the world...may they finally receive that which they have given!" The thundering rumble of glasses breaking in the fireplace is deafening. Cupid throws in his glass, but it does not break. Cheers, Mike. Cupid -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- -= Cupid =- Internet : wlbrad01%ulkyvx.bitnet@cunyvm.cuny.edu a.k.a. Wm. L. Bradley Bitnet/JNet: WLBRAD01 @ ULKYVX.BITNET UUCP : ...!psuvax1!ulkyvx.bitnet!wlbrad01 Student Consultant, University of Louisville, Kentucky, USA, Earth, Sol, etc...