Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabs!hpfcso!daq From: daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: The Woman Beside Message-ID: <9060008@hpfcso.HP.COM> Date: 17 Jan 90 03:39:33 GMT References: <9001151717.AA03010@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA Lines: 76 Cynic enters the bar. He is black, or more correctly, he is dressed in black, but an aura of blackness seems to hang in the air about him. He pulls a flask from his pocket an takes a hit of Southern Comfort. He has alway been sure that the comfort is in knowing that there are a few less brain cells to conspire to torment him tomorrow. "Take that," he thinks. He crosses to the bulletin board and leaves a note: To Jilara: I am glad to see that you did not belittle the women who ride behind in your posting. The world needs all kinds and those who ride behind serve an important role. It is not right or wrong, it just is. The people who ride beside also are important. They are not greater or lesser, they merely are. I ride alone. If you ride with someone behind you, then you always have someone at your back. People behind your back can get into mischief of all sorts. Their hands could be at your neck and you would not even know. People who ride beside might decide that they are leading and expect you to follow. It is far better to ride the paths alone, to feel the soilitude and the silence. You may occaisionally seek out the herd, or ride for a bit with a fellow traveller, but it is better to keep your options open in case you spot a vista that demands your attention, but does not capture that of your companion. As for soul mates, friends, etc, I agree that the women I have been closest to were not lovers. In fact the few women who I was close to and became my lovers, departed from me in bitterness and anger. My male friends are all slowly being sucked up and devoured by the evil disease of marraige. Marraige. I hate it. It steals your friends and makes them dead to you. No longer can you do the things you did. They are gone, and it is never the same. This soul mate nonsense is like a yearning for heaven. It is, perhaps, a nice idea, but it does not exist, and to wish for it is to waste your time pining for the impossible. Perhaps it is better to find the friends you can, get what you can from them, give what you must, and just be alive. Friends. They come and leave again. Spirits rise and fall. Emotions beckon from the dark. You heed the lonely call. Comforts soothe then fall away. Lovers. Silent. Stalk their prey. Rage expands. Compassions grow. It seems so new, But still I know I've seen it all before. It will never change or rearrange. I laugh. I sing. I scream. I cry. I'll do this till the day I die. Cynic Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucsd!ucsdhub!hp-sdd!hplabs!hpfcso!hpcndaw!hpcndm!jason From: jason@hpcndm.CND.HP.COM (Jason Zions) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: The Woman Beside Message-ID: <125990004@hpcndm.CND.HP.COM> Date: 18 Jan 90 01:56:53 GMT References: <9001151717.AA03010@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Organization: HP Colorado Networks Division Lines: 104 As Jilara winds down her description of The Woman Beside, Jazz levers himself out of his chair and begins to walk slowly across the room. "That's a rather interesting metaphor; I haven't heard it put that way before. I could carp a bit about it being male-centered, but the societies most of us live our day-to-day lives in are male-centric, to my dismay. "You say you are a Woman Who Rides Beside:" 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. "It appears to me that you place a constraint upon yourself. Just as there are women who choose to follow their own path, there are men who choose not to follow their own; instead, to ride ahead of or behind their woman. There may not be many of these today. I suspect that, as many women who see themselves as forced to ride behind chafe at their limits, there may be men who truly have little vision of their Path, or lack strength to blaze that Path they see; there may be men, in fact, who see their Path as riding behind their chosen companions, nurturing and caring for their partners in pursuit of a greater Path." By this point Jazz has crossed the room once and has returned to one side of the fireplace, leaning his backside against the wall, his upper body leaning forward, looking directly at Jilara. You sort of get the feeling that, when he is a bit wound up, tying his hands to his sides would render him speechless. "Could you ride with such a man? Would you accept one as a partner, accept the nurturing and care-taking he chooses to provide you with as you pursue your Path? If you can, if such behavior falls within the scope of what you desire, then there is a way in which you can share a life together. "From the way you speak, though, I would guess not. I don't remember who first said it, but the line comes to mind: ``Two people sharing a life? Seems to me like that's two people each living half a life.'' I personally agree with that; two individuals cannot share a single life." He shakes his head a little, straightens up and starts to walk slowly towards Jilara. "Just as, I suspect, you would not want a man to ride behind, and would rather he ride beside - do you not believe there are men looking for such a woman to ride beside? Each with a separate Vision, Destiny, Path; but each providing care, nurturing, strength, support, being" the ones who understand when they speak to us of the goals and dreams, mother-hen and mother-confessor, battle-comrade and companion of the road. "Yes, there must be common or parallel components to the Path, or riding beside is impossible. There must be compatibility in Vision, or realizing the Vision becomes impossible for one without blinding the other. These are not simple things, and it's probable that many partners who seem likely would cause conflict in the long run because of this." His voice grows more intent. Across two tables and ten feet, he locks eyes with Jilara. "But it is possible. Part of the task may be maintaining sufficient flexibility in outlook, in the eyes you use to enVision; permitting your partner and yourself to evolve, together, a more closely aligned pair of Visions, a more co-linear Path. "We only need a single eye to see; one source of information to give us vision. But that vision is flat, limited. A second eye, a second viewpoint, slightly different from the first, moved a little off to one side, perhaps of a different color or with differing faults, gives us true sight: solid, more intense, wider and farther in perception." Jazz pauses a few seconds, blinks, and starts to walk again. "I don't mean to imply that a Vision is necessarily limited because it is pursued by a single person, alone. But it is true that more hands make light work, when the task is shared; more eyes looking in the same direction increase the strength and clarity of the view. "Jilara, you remind us that ``[t]here are prices for everything.'' What I suggest is subject to that. It means trading in two horses for a set of Siamese twin horses, joined in such a way that they can be separated for a time and function adequately, but when together can run farther, faster, longer, than any two horses carrying two people together. Economies of scale, if you will." At that, a rather disgusted image crosses his face. "I think the Siamese Horse image is a good indication I've rambled on too long; I probably need to rein in my imagination, saddle myself for a bit; besides, it's 6:45 PM and time to put the feedbag on. "But think about it, Jilara; as much as you refuse to give up your dream, any partner worth having would be just as unwilling to give up his or hers. There is a way to keep both sets of dreams and yet still share lives." By this time Jazz has managed to find the corner of the room where his stuff was piled up. He snags his coat and shoulder bag, leaving a pair of saxophones (didn't he walk in with only one? Aw, never mind!) and a small stack of trade rags on the table. "I'm gonna take a walk over to that Chinese place about a mile and a half up the road - anyone wanna split some Garlic Chicken and Mo Shu Pork? Oh, yeah, Mike, can I bring you anything back..." Jazz Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!CCB.UCSF.EDU!robin From: robin@CCB.UCSF.EDU (Robin Colgrove) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: callahans get together and a story Message-ID: <9001190721.AA22780@ccb.ucsf.EDU> Date: 19 Jan 90 07:21:15 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 84 A sleep deprived young man does the zombie shuffle over to the bar tapes his eyes open props himself up like a marionette on the barstool and cuts through the crowd rumble with his annoying trombone of a voice: Quick note and short microstory, friends re proposed callahans realspace self-assembly in Boston Area responses so far From: ckd%bucsf.BU.EDU@bu.edu (Christopher Davis) From: inmet!justin@uunet.UU.NET (Justin du Coeur MKA Mark Waks) From: eliz@world.std.com (Elizabeth Lear) From: gilly%bucsf.BU.EDU@bu.edu (Gilly Rosenthol) and robin@ccb.ucsf.edu (Robin Colgrove) suggested night -> Tuesday 1/23/90 suggested time -> 8-11pm suggested site -> no suggestions so far i am clueless, knowing naught of the locale help needed, time is short am getting slaughtered at work so login time is minimal i'll go anywhere... hope to see you there wherever that may be! robin (have tourniquet, will travel) colgrove voicenet: (415) 753-2580 oh, right a story here's a fitting empath tale from last nite in the SFGH ER: Heroin addict comes in with high temp and chills (shooter with a fever in the local argot) needs admission to rule out endocarditis so needs blood samples drawn and IV access started of course all veins are totally scarred over to the point where he has had to start shooting IM into his gluteus maximus. so, of course I'm there flailing away trying to get blood from a stone a veteran ER nurse comes over to assist and finally the trauma surgeon comes over and we flail some more till finally he gets the vein hands the needle to the nurse and because we are all now at very weird angles from our flail sticks herslf with the needle. silence breaks out this guy is probably HIV positive and the nurses hand is clearly bleeding. In her entire career she'd never stuck herself before. She's putting on a brave face but clearly shaken surgeon is feeling guilty for not being more careful with the needle I am having a strong wave of There but for the grace of God go I We call the Infectious Disease Attending he sets the wheels in motion for testing the blood and prophylactic AZT for the nurse (some data suggest you can abort an infection if AZT gets onboard within 24 hr of exposure) I go back to finish working up the patient and find him sobbing. Here is this guy, covered with scars and abscesses destroying himself and stealing to pay it crawling with lice and probably with an infected endocardium and he is crying not out of self pity but because he cannot bear the thought of putting someone elses life at risk who was only trying to help him. I am deeply moved and push down a lump in my own throat. Estimates are 1/200 medical residents will seroconvert during their training and by and large it's a risk the housestaff bears willingly as a worthy sacrifice but it still hits you when disaster strikes The ID consult says the best estimate of seroconversion from a shallow stick like this is less than 5% but still the team is very quiet for the rest of the night... O what a wondrous work is man... Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!swrinde!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!philmtl!philabs!ttidca!hollombe From: hollombe@ttidca.TTI.COM (The Polymath) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Another goodbye Message-ID: <9084@ttidca.TTI.COM> Date: 17 Jan 90 03:05:43 GMT Reply-To: hollombe@ttidca.tti.com (The Polymath) Distribution: alt Organization: Citicorp/TTI, Santa Monica Lines: 114 The door opens and the Polymath walks in from a rainy night. His posture seems set against more than the weather. The scars seem to cut deeper tonight. He looks weary, his shoulders slouched with the weight of the world. "Mulled ale, Mike. I've a chill on my soul." Dollar and drink change hands and he walks to the line and sips. "I want to toast everyone here tonight, for being who and what you are. It's a great thing to know that others are there to pass the torch -- people who care and empathize and want to help. It gives me some hope for the world. "It's important to me, because I dropped the torch some years ago and I think I've lost the ability to carry it further. "I think I grew up a sensitive and slowly learned to be an empath. I cared for people, listened to their troubles and did what I could to help. Eventually I decided I might as well learn the rules and do for a living what I was doing anyway. That's when I earned the master's in clinical psychology. "There's a few stories to go with that, but the important one tonight is about my internship. I spent four years at the Los Angeles Suicide Prevention Center, first as a crisis telephone counselor, then shift supervisor and several other related things (trainer, counselor, group facilitator, project administrator, statistician). "Not everyone can handle the suicide lines. Some of the stories and situations are so tragic ... and there's so little you can do to help ... and death is always part of the background. I saw licensed pshrinks quit after as little as three weeks, never to be seen again. "For a number of reasons, I always worked the late-night shifts. I'd come in around midnight or 4 a.m. and work 'til 4 or 8. The SPC always had trouble staffing those hours. A lot of nights it was just me and a 5 line phone in the whole building ... and the phone would ring ... and Ring ... and RING ... "For four hours or so at a time I _was_ the SPC and much of the misery and desperation of the dark hours in Greater L.A. and beyond came funneling through that phone to me. I did what I could. A few times I think I fought death to a standstill. Once or twice I lost. Most of the time I never knew. (But I know what a close-range gunshot sounds like over a telephone). "I think it was Jilara who remarked about Atlas wanting someone to take the world from his shoulders for a while. Atlas owes me. "Somewhere along there I got involved in what was to be the most disastrous relationship of my life to date. She was a suicidal alcoholic, but I didn't find that out 'til much too late. Three years of nightmare, punctuated by visits to detox wards and driving to her place to take loaded guns out of her hand, ended when I walked out to save my own sanity. It was 18 months before the thought of looking for another relationship didn't leave me shaking. "By then I'd completed my degree, quit the SPC and taken a job with a software house to build up some cash while I considered Ph.D. programs. After a while, I stopped considering them. I found I didn't want to listen to people's problems any more. I'd meet someone and they'd start pouring their heart out to me, as usual, and after about 10 minutes I wanted to strangle them. I'd completely burned out. "So, ten years go by and I find myself in Callahan's. All my old helping instincts get triggered. 'Maybe the burnout's healed,' I think. 'Maybe I can help again.' I listen and I try to help a few people. ... ~sigh~ ... If only good intentions were enough ... What skills I had seem to have rusted away. They were never geared to such a limited medium, anyway. "It takes a few weeks this time, instead of 10 minutes, but I'm not healed. I find myself skimming instead of reading, then skipping whole articles. Not listening. Along with my old helping instincts, many painful memories have been brought up. I have too many immediate concerns in my life right now. I don't have the energy to deal with them and work through all the old pain again. "And so, after all that, I come to my toast: "To youth and enthusiasm and caring people. I pass the torch to you. "I may drop in from time to time with a long winded story or curmudgeonly advice, but I have to attend to my life and those closest to me. As I said, it heartens me to know this place exists. Whether I come here or not, having Callahan's in the world makes it easier to carry on. For that, I thank you all. If I've hurt or offended anyone with inept remarks, here or in e-mail, my apologies. Certainly, there's no one here I'd harm intentionally. For now, I think I'll sit in my usual corner (was I the first to claim one? I don't remember) and have one more drink with you. Then it'll be time to quietly fade out. "Give me another, Mike, and make it _hot_ this time. I'm still cold ..." P.S.: I posted two longish articles on December 19th. Judging from the lack of response, I suspect they may have vanished into the vacation hiatus, expiring before most people got a chance to read them. I thought they were worth posting at the time. If anyone missed them and is interested, I'll repost. They contained, respectively, curmudgeonly advice and a long winded story. (-; -- The Polymath (aka: Jerry Hollombe, hollombe@ttidca.tti.com) Illegitimis non Citicorp(+)TTI Carborundum 3100 Ocean Park Blvd. (213) 450-9111, x2483 Santa Monica, CA 90405 {csun | philabs | psivax}!ttidca!hollombe Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucsd!rutgers!njin!princeton!phoenix!ejalbert From: ejalbert@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Edmund Jason Albert) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Lyrics, 1990 Message-ID: <13081@phoenix.Princeton.EDU> Date: 19 Jan 90 00:46:29 GMT References: <4818cdfe.1faaa@ferrari.UUCP> Reply-To: ejalbert@phoenix.Princeton.EDU (Edmund Jason Albert) Organization: Princeton University, NJ Lines: 35 In article <4818cdfe.1faaa@ferrari.UUCP> harveyp@ferrari.UUCP (Patrick L. Harvey) writes: >I've been reading callahans for a while, it seems pretty decent. After an >unusually introspective xmas following numerous problems regarding soul mates >etc. during 4Q89 I chanced to listen more closely to a particular Jimmy Buffet >song and thought the lyrics might be appropriate. (I heard it in a Scottsdale >bar which has Callahanish characteritics): > >... >Yesterday's over my shoulder >So I can't look backward too long >There's just too much to see >Waiting in front of me >And I know that I just can't go wrong Don't leave us in suspense! Which Jimmy Buffet song? This guy is turning up all over the place. First I come to college this year and half the people on my floor play "Cheeseburger in Paradise" constantly. Then I go home and find that my former girlfriend received a Jimmy Buffet tape for Christmas. Upon asking who that was, I made the connection to the song. Then I walk in a bookstore and find that he has a bestselling book! This all has a question behind it: Jimmy Buffet has put out 22 albums, but only 6 made the Top 40 album chart, from 1975 to 1982. So how do all my college friends know about him, since the only song which got any significant airplay was "Margaritaville" in 1978. Or phrased another way, how does musical socialization take place? Mike, a margarita of course. To Margaritaville, may we all meet there someday. The Geologist (who likes any singer who's backup band is called the Coral Reefers!) Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!swrinde!cs.utexas.edu!texbell!swbatl!uucibg From: uucibg@swbatl.UUCP (3929) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: the lurker speaks Message-ID: <1121@swbatl.UUCP> Date: 19 Jan 90 15:48:51 GMT Reply-To: uucibg@swbatl.UUCP (Brian Gilstrap - UCI - 5-3929) Distribution: usa Organization: Me, organized? Hah! Lines: 39 The door opens and Brian wanders in, looking a bit distracted. Shrugging of his grey wool overcoat and loosening the tie he's wearing (silly things), he steps up to the bar. "Give me a Ginger Ale, Mike," he says, placing two roles of pennies on the bar. Quaffing most of the drink and sighing, he approaches the chalk line. "Well, folks, Life surprised me again. You'd think by now I wouldn't go in with preconceptions," he says with a smile. "Ah well, something I'm letting happen; gettting rid of preconceptions, that is. My ex-fiance and I talked last night. Boy did I give her the wrong impression the night before last. She thought I was trying to politely tell her that I didn't want to see her anymore. So I reassured her that she is one of my closest friend and that I hope to never lose that, regardless of whatever else may happen." "It's really, really frightening to go through one of these misunderstandings. They shake me up, because the point out how alone we each really are, in some fundamental sense. They make me want to reach out and *hug* those I care about." "Of course, I'm sure that my life will continue to be the personal soap opera it's been for about the last 6 months. If things ever get relatively settled down again (relative to my normal life that is: my life is pretty safe, secure, and comfortable in general and I really don't have anything to complain about...well, not many things :-), I don't know how I'll react. But enough rambling, and on to the toast. It's an oldie but that's okay." To friends. May they never be lost to misunderstandings!" CRASH Thanks, -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Brian R. Gilstrap ...!{ texbell, uunet }!swbatl!uucibg OR uucibg@swbatl.UUCP One Bell Center +---------------------------------------------------------- Rm 17-G-4 | "Winnie-the-Pooh read the two notices very carefully, St. Louis, MO 63101 | first from left to right, and afterwards, in case he had (314) 235-3929 | missed some of it, from right to left." -- A. A. Milne -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: Me, speak for my company? You must be joking. I'm just speaking my mind. Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!think!bbn!granite!mandel From: mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: The Woman Beside Message-ID: <1990Jan19.160031.19228@granite.cr.bull.com> Date: 19 Jan 90 16:00:31 GMT References: <9001151717.AA03010@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> <9060008@hpfcso.HP.COM> Reply-To: mandel@granite.cr.bull.com (Mark Mandel) Organization: Bull HN Information Systems Inc. Lines: 47 In article <9060008@hpfcso.HP.COM> daq@hpfcso.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom) writes: >Cynic enters the bar. ... > >I ride alone. If you ride with someone behind you, then you >always have someone at your back. People behind your back >can get into mischief of all sorts. Their hands could be >at your neck and you would not even know. People who ride >beside might decide that they are leading and expect you >to follow. > > ... My male friends are all >slowly being sucked up and devoured by the evil disease >of marraige. Marraige. I hate it. It steals your >friends and makes them dead to you. No longer can you >do the things you did. They are gone, and it is never the >same. (Silverblack thoughtfully turns the braided gold ring on his left ring finger. On -- or just above -- the table in front of him, a feline grin slowly fades in and then out of visibility, seeming to emanate a warm glow.) I'm sorry you're so bitter about relationships and marriage. I have to guess you've been badly burned, perhaps by relationships other than your own (parents', perhaps; I'm not asking, just thinking aloud). He who has no one at his back has to have eyes in the back of his head to feel safe; and then, what when he must sleep? There IS no safety this side the grave. My lady and I don't expect 100% compatibility. (Also remember what Janelle said about compatibility; net timewarps being what they are, you may be reading this before you read her observations.) But being together, with its compromises, disagreements, and choices, is much, much better for both of us than being alone. We lean on each other. We enrich each other. Cynic, there are always choices to make, giving up some things to get others. The solo way is not the only way, and many of us find the road immeasurably more bearable, even *good*, with a companion. No toast this time. (Up to the bar.) Mike, a decaf coffee please, with milk. -- -- Mark Mandel (InterNet: Mandel@granite.cr.bull.com) /* My employer is not responsible for anything I say, do, think, or eat. */ Path: mit-eddie!mintaka!yale!think!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!uwm.edu!uwvax!sabertooth.cs.wisc.edu!lewandow From: lewandow@sabertooth.cs.wisc.edu (Gary Lewandowski (TA of Doom)) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Another goodbye Message-ID: <9560@spool.cs.wisc.edu> Date: 19 Jan 90 17:11:04 GMT References: <9084@ttidca.TTI.COM> Sender: news@spool.cs.wisc.edu Distribution: alt Organization: University of Wisconsin, Madison -- Computer Sciences Department Lines: 35 Jerry made the comment that he thinks his empathic skills have rusted. I would like to express the thought that I believe the 'problem' may be a number of other things. Like him, I've worked on a hotline, and I'm currently looking for a new one to join. For awhile I thought Callahan's would be the sort of medium which was an electronic hotline. But I find that when I read someone's article I can't here the pauses, the non-expressed emotions; can't get immediate clarification on what I didn't quite understand; worse of all, for me, no one can hear my little noises. Sometimes I can click right off with an article and I think I understand the emotions and I can empathize, but even then that doesn't mean I can help the poster work through the problem. It's hard to post an article that I think will really help or really express my empathy, and that's the frustration I have in reading callahans, and why I don't post much. Another aspect of the problem (for someone used to a phone line) is that you get to see a large number of problems simultaneously, as well as other people's responses to that problem. Volume makes it hard to respond as well. Well, I'm not giving up yet. I'm going to think about a way to really be useful through posting, and I'm trying email for the more personal contact I think I need to really empathize with people. Other thoughts on this? p.s. I'd also like to echo the plea for less repetition of previously posted articles when you respond. The sheer length makes it hard to read. -- gary lewandow@cs.wisc.edu "It's too late to correct it," said the Red Queen. Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!usc!brutus.cs.uiuc.edu!rpi!image.soe.clarkson.edu!news From: stadnism@clutx.clarkson.edu (Steven Stadnicki,,,) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Re: Saying stuff while I can (re: Empaths and lots of other stuff) Message-ID: <1990Jan19.172020.707@sun.soe.clarkson.edu> Date: 19 Jan 90 17:20:20 GMT References: <1990Jan18.192925.26315@sun.soe.clarkson.edu> Sender: news@sun.soe.clarkson.edu Reply-To: stadnism@clutx.clarkson.edu Organization: Clarkson University, Potsdam, NY Lines: 24 As I sit down again, someone mumbles something in my ear. "What? I didn't? Oh... that's right... I left, didn't I? Hmm... well, I guess I might as well..." With that, I quietly wander out the door for a couple of minutes, then... The door to the Place opens again, and I enter, looking, if not happy, at least a bit more hopeful than I was when I left a month ago. Walking up to the bar I ask Mike for a glass of strawberry Yoo-Hoo, then turn to face the fire... "To dreams and friends: sometimes, once in a while, they're enough. I hope..." <*crash*> I bow sarcastically, then return to my table at the side of the room. Steven Stadnicki stadnism@clutx.clarkson.edu "The happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story." "But what if there isn't a happy ending?" "There are no happy endings... because nothing ever ends." Path: mit-eddie!snorkelwacker!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!ucbvax!fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM!jane From: jane@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM (Jane Beckman x2637) Newsgroups: alt.callahans Subject: Woman Beside, a clarification Message-ID: <9001191448.AA22073@fsdcupt.csd.mot.COM> Date: 19 Jan 90 22:48:18 GMT Sender: daemon@ucbvax.BERKELEY.EDU Lines: 38 "My experience is that most are not secure enough to deal with a woman cast in quite my mold," Jilara says thoughtfully. "I talked to my first fiance last night, about my second ex-fiance. The second claimed to be my equal, want a woman who was independant. What he really meant was that he wanted a woman who wouldn't make too many demands on him. He also got very resentful of the fact I didn't need him, that I could have my own life without him... My first fiance and I lasted three years, through a lot of hardships and tragedy, and the reason we did was he was the man who rode at MY back. He was, essentially, a good wife. But ultimately, it was his very dependance that drove us apart. It was reflection on this that first made me realize, years back, that I was the Woman Beside. All my life, my best friends have been men, or other women who ride beside." Her eyes sparkle a moment, and she tosses her head. "Maybe there's an answer. But life is a koan, ultimately, isn't it? The answer is the one that is both and neither? The Third Way, as Zen puts it. I didn't mean to imply I have cut off options. But a lot of men have. I wonder if there's a correlation between this and the fact that most of my close friends are either men who regard me as "one of the guys" or lesbians who like men? A willingness to accept people simply as people, without automatic pigeon-holes? I always wondered how I was going to explain about Stephanie, my sword-sister, to Eric... There's a strange sensual attraction to vitality, a vitality that I've only seen matched in one other person, and that a fellow I met here in the Place." She laughs. "Maybe one of the reasons I read Green Arrow comics is because I am fascinated with the conflicts of two superheros trying to relate to each other in the boundings of a semi-conventional relationship. Toss in, also, one Woman Beside lover who is a better match for Ollie, ideologically, than his beloved Dinah. Stir with a mandrake root, and watch it get weird... But I'm rambling. Just wanted to clarify." ---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?)