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johnpalmerThis is long, and only of interest if you are interested in the strange inter-relationship of my life, and a particular newsgroup, alt.callahans.
Okay, I suppose it could still be of interest without that... but you might not understand anything about it.
The long and the short of it is, a flame war started. And, it's *nothing* that I couldn't handle, and haven't handled, god, a dozen times before *at least*.
But it made me realize that certain things have changed over the years. Both the place, and me. And, it made me realize it was time to say good-bye.
If anyone wants to see how Callahans favorite (only... which is the only reason I claim 'favorite') Crazyman says goodbye, it's after the cut tag. Anyone else can skip it.
John walks in, figuring it's long past time for a bit of magic work.
He's dressed in proper clothing... at least, he figures he is. A
tee-shirt, and a pair of casual 'no belt' pants. The 'no belt part
seems a mistake, until he stops, smiles, and digs into his pants
pocket, and pulls out a handful of change, that he drops with his
other belongings. He keeps forgetting to *do* something with that
change....
He closes his eyes, and draws in focus, then slowly gestures, and a
space clears, and is set off with proper soundproofing. There's a
small area that would be a stage if there was a performance to be
given, and comfortable seating.
He then sets the four points of the compass, asking for the help and
wisdom of spirits of air, fire, water, and earth... asking also of the
north, the help of his spirit guide, the great northern bear.
Then, suddenly struck by a thought, he opens an area in the
soundproofing (which is mere VR, and by no means 'magical'), and
manually sets out more chairs outside of the main circle.
Some people might feel forbidden to partake of magic even
peripherally, by sitting in the circle with him. These people will be
able to see, and hear, all that those in the circle would.
Then, he opens a door in the circle with his athame, and ushers in any
who wish to join them. They will have no work to do, but if they wish
to add energy to the proceedings, they may.
From those, he asks some to move closer. These people are those who
can accept that magical working can only be done, in perfect love, and
perfect trust... any for whom this mutual love and trust exist, are
welcome. The rest are not excluded, but are simply asked not to give
their energy to a very personal working of magic.
"Magic takes on many forms," he says, once everyone who wishes to be
is in position. "The most important rule to magic to consider here is
that what matters, matters... why it matters is irrelevant."
There is some haziness; Does John suddenly know how to play the
guitar? Or is it merely one of his friends who knows how to play, who
is willing to help? But some sweet guitar chords start, and John, in
opposition to the norm of reality, is blessed with temporarily perfect
singing ability.
(Beat Up Guitar, by The Hooters, off of the Zig Zag album)
"You lived on Vine street, I lived at home.
The music was all that we had of our own.
No satisfaction, no gas in my car,
but we had the keys to the world, in my beat up guitar.
With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away,
from the town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
Kensington station, we sat on the track
I wrote you a song, though I knew it was flat
You laughed when they told me, you won't get too far,
if you spend the rest of your life with that beat up guitar...
With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away
From the town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
(Overlay)
A second John appears, while the first keeps singing.
"It's always been one of my favorite songs, really... and not just
because of the fact that I was born and raised in Philadelphia. Just
the notion of following your dreams, even when they're not the most
realistic dreams in the world, knowing you'll have to set off from
your familiar home. And... well, one of the last lines always chokes
me up a bit, too.
(The second John fades, leaving the singing John clearly seen and
heard)
"With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away
From that town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
And with that beat up guitar, we're coming home again someday
To that town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A."
The song continues a bit further, of course, and John takes a sip of a
glass of diet Sierra Mist that someone has thoughtfully provided.
"This one is one of my favorites, because I always wish the words were
a little bit different; there are days it could be my theme song if it
were... well, if it weren't the same song."
He smiles at the incongruity of that thought; that a song could be a
great song if it wasn't the same song anymore, and then the music
starts again.
(Behind Blue Eyes - The Who)
"No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
"No one knows what it's like
to be hated
to be fated
to telling only lies"
(Overlay)
The other John is back. "I'm certainly not fated to telling only lies,
for example. But there are many times I understand the feeling that no
one knows what it's like be be who you are... that no one sees inside,
and no one will.
The song doesn't continue in the same tone, though... it becomes
defiant, with a man saying things you could picture screaming back at
the universe, no matter what is thrown at him. A man who might feel
lost, but is not now, and never will be, ready to give up. It's only
for a wrap up that the song returns to it's sadder sound..."
(And the audience can hear that...
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man...
Behind blue eyes."
The overlay John smiles, and says "I have to give the commentary on
this one first. I've gained a fascination with rap over the years, the
notion of minimalist music, and one of the forms of music that is
purely, 100% US home grown.
"That doesn't mean I always like the subject matter, and one in
particular always bothered me. "Cop Killer", by Ice T.
Then I finally heard it. Now, I don't know if I'm naive or not, but
sometimes our illusions are worth holding, unless and until the truth
is available, and I like to pretend that Ice T never wanted anyone to
kill any cops. I think he wanted them to sing that song, and piss off
a few of the bad cops, and get people to realize you should be *good*
and *ANGRY* at police brutality.
However, I think I have a more... socially acceptable way of singing
that song right now.
I better warn you, there's still a lot of violence in this one... you
might want to put the kids to bed.
So, with a nod to Ice T, we'll just pretend I have his backup band,
and, through a lovely piece of magic..."
And a hot, fast, heavy metal band starts playing in the background.
John's now wearing a hat backwards on his head, but it's not a
baseball cap... it's a naval officer's hat! Just to continue to ruin
the image, he's wearing what appears to be a leather tuxedo coat, with
the arms ripped off, and his pants seem just a tad bit baggier than
before.
The first words of the song ("COP KILLER!" in Ice T's version) are
muffled, perhaps to avoid spoiling the surprise...
(TTTO: Cop Killer, by Ice-T)
He's got his jet skates on
he's got his stick-um on
he's got his knee pads on
Wile E is going long
He's got his birdseed laid out
And a fake tunnel blacked out
He wants me to come out
Next round of our big bout!
I'm a ROADRUNNER, better him than me
Roadrunner, watch out coyote!
Roadrunner, I know you're gonna be grievin',
Roadrunner, but I'm gonna keep speeding!
A package from Acme
Just tryin' to crack me
a jet speeded sled
and that bozo ain't dead!
Now it's time to start running
cause he's gonna start gunning
his plan's really stunning
wish he'd stick to just punning!
ROADRUNNER, better him than me...
Roadrunner, watch out coyote!
Roadrunner, I know you're gonna be grievin',
Roadrunner, but I'm gonna keep speeding!
(At this point, Ice-T's song is mostly instrumental with (ahem)
repetitive lyrics suggesting the police be fornicated or adultered as
appropriate, so we'll just play it out as an instrumental....)
John smiles, now, there's only one of him, and the instruments are
gone, for the moment.
He's speaking slightly rhythmically, as you might imagine people might
in a ritual story telling.
"Today, while running, I had a vision of the deer brought down by the
wolves. I don't know if the wolves hunt dear, nor if they do so in a
pack or not. And, I do not know if animals can speak, even spirit to
spirit, so I can not claim this vision was true. But I can tell you
what I saw.
An old buck was brought down, because he was old, and tired, and weak.
And the top wolf said to him "Now, another deer will live; go now, to
the summerlands, knowing your death had purpose."
A doe was brought down, because she'd lured the wolves from her fawn.
And the top wolf said to her "Well done! We could not feast on a
smaller animal when we had our chance at you! Go now, to the
summerlands, knowing that your death had purpose."
And another deer was brought down, neither old, nor protecting
another, but simply because deer are hunted by wolves in this vision
of mine, and it is the way of the world for the hunters to hunt the
prey, when they need to eat.
And they said "We will eat you, but another deer is spared, to grow
stronger and faster; maybe this winter, one of us will starve, because
the only deer who remain are too fast for us. Go now, to the
summerlands, knowing that even this death had purpose."
John smiles sadly, realizing that this spell is reaching its climax.
Gathering his energies, people see he is building... something. He
realizes the time for showing what he's building has not come, yet.
So he chants...
"Every pain can matter
As does every sparrow's fall
So go and live your feelings
always listen for their call.
Every laugh can matter
and bring some joy to all
so open up to happiness
and shout it down the hall.
Every love does matter
And makes us stronger still
So love as well as anyone can
And let love guide your will"
Music, poetry twiddles, and writing... three potent forms of magic,
and now, the energy and the time are right.
With slow, careful gestures, he starts to shape energy into a
sculpture, and soon it is done.
People look at it, and they see... Callahans.
Except they look over the bar, and they see that the grafitti on the
wall isn't quite ... right. It's too far away to read, but it's in
different patterns.
Looking again, they see people they've never seen before, including a
bearded Kzin, with ... with a *sprite* in his *beard*? Surely this
couldn't be the fearsome Speaker-to-Minerals people have spoken of!
They see a bunch of different people, some they recognize, and some
they don't.
"It's not prettier, is it?" John asks, and people have to agree...
some people might like it better, but you couldn't say it was
*prettier*.
"The people aren't better, are they?" John asks, and people have to
agree, again... there are good people, and less-good people, just like
there are everywhere you go, in both the 'real' bar, and in this
representation of it.
"You couldn't say there was anything *better* about this one, could
you?" he asks, and some people start to realize this is going.
"No... there's not a damn thing wrong with *this* one", he says,
indicating his model, "or *this* one", he says, indicating the rest of
the bar.
"But over the past months, I realized something. Only *one* of
these... only one of them was... *mine*.
"Only one of them had some... some *something* that made it the
alt.callahans that I loved.
"This isn't talking about how things were better in the good old
days... I doubt they were. But they were different... and they are
what I think of.
"This isn't saying that the people aren't wonderful... it's just that
they're not the same people I realized I think of when I think about
alt.callahans.
"This isn't saying I think this alt.callahans isn't a great, wonderful
place to be... it is. But it's not *my* alt.callahans, and I realize
if I stay, I'm going to keep running into that.
"If you believe there is no clam chowder but New England style, it
doesn't matter if you're eating the best Manhattan style clam chowder
on the planet, you're going to keep expecting a creamy, milk based
broth, not a taste of tomato-ey goodness. It's not that you'll think
you're eating *bad* soup... you'll just feel you're eating the *wrong*
soup.
John pauses, and suggests those unable to tolerate ugliness in
language blur past the spoiler space, and then blur past the next set
of spoiler space, not reading the information in between, as he's
about to put on a part of his personality that he keeps far from the
surface. Also, please note that the person described hopefully does
not exist, and doesn't refer to those who wonder, only those who
insist, with certainty, and... well, never mind. Read it if you want,
but you won't miss anything too important if you don't.
(snip some suggesting that I will be *most* put out if someone suggests that I'm leaving based upon a recent flame war.)
"Anyway... this has been building up for, god, probably over a year. I
won't lie and say that the events of the past few days didn't
crystallize the decision, but nothing could have made the decision
happen if it wasn't already past time - and I do mean *PAST* time, as
in, I could (and maybe should) have made this decision months ago.
"I thought about waiting a few days, just so no one would have to do
so much as contemplate this question, but I started writing some of
the stuff in this post, and I realized I was crying as I wrote
"Roadrunner", and I knew *why*. Because it really *was* time to say
goodbye, for now, and quite likely, forever, to the place... though I
hope not to lose touch with many of the people.
"But I realized that I wouldn't be so well able to create my
'farewell' gift, if it wasn't time to wish that you folks, and the
place itself, all fare well without me.
"Now, I could say that I hate long goodbyes, but I think I'd have
proven I wasn't being entirely accurate if I said that, so instead,
I'll say I hate to over-prolong a goodbye, and..."
And as he speaks the last word, he vanishes.
Okay, I suppose it could still be of interest without that... but you might not understand anything about it.
The long and the short of it is, a flame war started. And, it's *nothing* that I couldn't handle, and haven't handled, god, a dozen times before *at least*.
But it made me realize that certain things have changed over the years. Both the place, and me. And, it made me realize it was time to say good-bye.
If anyone wants to see how Callahans favorite (only... which is the only reason I claim 'favorite') Crazyman says goodbye, it's after the cut tag. Anyone else can skip it.
John walks in, figuring it's long past time for a bit of magic work.
He's dressed in proper clothing... at least, he figures he is. A
tee-shirt, and a pair of casual 'no belt' pants. The 'no belt part
seems a mistake, until he stops, smiles, and digs into his pants
pocket, and pulls out a handful of change, that he drops with his
other belongings. He keeps forgetting to *do* something with that
change....
He closes his eyes, and draws in focus, then slowly gestures, and a
space clears, and is set off with proper soundproofing. There's a
small area that would be a stage if there was a performance to be
given, and comfortable seating.
He then sets the four points of the compass, asking for the help and
wisdom of spirits of air, fire, water, and earth... asking also of the
north, the help of his spirit guide, the great northern bear.
Then, suddenly struck by a thought, he opens an area in the
soundproofing (which is mere VR, and by no means 'magical'), and
manually sets out more chairs outside of the main circle.
Some people might feel forbidden to partake of magic even
peripherally, by sitting in the circle with him. These people will be
able to see, and hear, all that those in the circle would.
Then, he opens a door in the circle with his athame, and ushers in any
who wish to join them. They will have no work to do, but if they wish
to add energy to the proceedings, they may.
From those, he asks some to move closer. These people are those who
can accept that magical working can only be done, in perfect love, and
perfect trust... any for whom this mutual love and trust exist, are
welcome. The rest are not excluded, but are simply asked not to give
their energy to a very personal working of magic.
"Magic takes on many forms," he says, once everyone who wishes to be
is in position. "The most important rule to magic to consider here is
that what matters, matters... why it matters is irrelevant."
There is some haziness; Does John suddenly know how to play the
guitar? Or is it merely one of his friends who knows how to play, who
is willing to help? But some sweet guitar chords start, and John, in
opposition to the norm of reality, is blessed with temporarily perfect
singing ability.
(Beat Up Guitar, by The Hooters, off of the Zig Zag album)
"You lived on Vine street, I lived at home.
The music was all that we had of our own.
No satisfaction, no gas in my car,
but we had the keys to the world, in my beat up guitar.
With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away,
from the town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
Kensington station, we sat on the track
I wrote you a song, though I knew it was flat
You laughed when they told me, you won't get too far,
if you spend the rest of your life with that beat up guitar...
With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away
From the town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
(Overlay)
A second John appears, while the first keeps singing.
"It's always been one of my favorite songs, really... and not just
because of the fact that I was born and raised in Philadelphia. Just
the notion of following your dreams, even when they're not the most
realistic dreams in the world, knowing you'll have to set off from
your familiar home. And... well, one of the last lines always chokes
me up a bit, too.
(The second John fades, leaving the singing John clearly seen and
heard)
"With that beat up guitar, you and I will ride away
From that town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A.
And with that beat up guitar, we're coming home again someday
To that town that rocked the nation, Philadelphia P.A."
The song continues a bit further, of course, and John takes a sip of a
glass of diet Sierra Mist that someone has thoughtfully provided.
"This one is one of my favorites, because I always wish the words were
a little bit different; there are days it could be my theme song if it
were... well, if it weren't the same song."
He smiles at the incongruity of that thought; that a song could be a
great song if it wasn't the same song anymore, and then the music
starts again.
(Behind Blue Eyes - The Who)
"No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
"No one knows what it's like
to be hated
to be fated
to telling only lies"
(Overlay)
The other John is back. "I'm certainly not fated to telling only lies,
for example. But there are many times I understand the feeling that no
one knows what it's like be be who you are... that no one sees inside,
and no one will.
The song doesn't continue in the same tone, though... it becomes
defiant, with a man saying things you could picture screaming back at
the universe, no matter what is thrown at him. A man who might feel
lost, but is not now, and never will be, ready to give up. It's only
for a wrap up that the song returns to it's sadder sound..."
(And the audience can hear that...
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man...
Behind blue eyes."
The overlay John smiles, and says "I have to give the commentary on
this one first. I've gained a fascination with rap over the years, the
notion of minimalist music, and one of the forms of music that is
purely, 100% US home grown.
"That doesn't mean I always like the subject matter, and one in
particular always bothered me. "Cop Killer", by Ice T.
Then I finally heard it. Now, I don't know if I'm naive or not, but
sometimes our illusions are worth holding, unless and until the truth
is available, and I like to pretend that Ice T never wanted anyone to
kill any cops. I think he wanted them to sing that song, and piss off
a few of the bad cops, and get people to realize you should be *good*
and *ANGRY* at police brutality.
However, I think I have a more... socially acceptable way of singing
that song right now.
I better warn you, there's still a lot of violence in this one... you
might want to put the kids to bed.
So, with a nod to Ice T, we'll just pretend I have his backup band,
and, through a lovely piece of magic..."
And a hot, fast, heavy metal band starts playing in the background.
John's now wearing a hat backwards on his head, but it's not a
baseball cap... it's a naval officer's hat! Just to continue to ruin
the image, he's wearing what appears to be a leather tuxedo coat, with
the arms ripped off, and his pants seem just a tad bit baggier than
before.
The first words of the song ("COP KILLER!" in Ice T's version) are
muffled, perhaps to avoid spoiling the surprise...
(TTTO: Cop Killer, by Ice-T)
He's got his jet skates on
he's got his stick-um on
he's got his knee pads on
Wile E is going long
He's got his birdseed laid out
And a fake tunnel blacked out
He wants me to come out
Next round of our big bout!
I'm a ROADRUNNER, better him than me
Roadrunner, watch out coyote!
Roadrunner, I know you're gonna be grievin',
Roadrunner, but I'm gonna keep speeding!
A package from Acme
Just tryin' to crack me
a jet speeded sled
and that bozo ain't dead!
Now it's time to start running
cause he's gonna start gunning
his plan's really stunning
wish he'd stick to just punning!
ROADRUNNER, better him than me...
Roadrunner, watch out coyote!
Roadrunner, I know you're gonna be grievin',
Roadrunner, but I'm gonna keep speeding!
(At this point, Ice-T's song is mostly instrumental with (ahem)
repetitive lyrics suggesting the police be fornicated or adultered as
appropriate, so we'll just play it out as an instrumental....)
John smiles, now, there's only one of him, and the instruments are
gone, for the moment.
He's speaking slightly rhythmically, as you might imagine people might
in a ritual story telling.
"Today, while running, I had a vision of the deer brought down by the
wolves. I don't know if the wolves hunt dear, nor if they do so in a
pack or not. And, I do not know if animals can speak, even spirit to
spirit, so I can not claim this vision was true. But I can tell you
what I saw.
An old buck was brought down, because he was old, and tired, and weak.
And the top wolf said to him "Now, another deer will live; go now, to
the summerlands, knowing your death had purpose."
A doe was brought down, because she'd lured the wolves from her fawn.
And the top wolf said to her "Well done! We could not feast on a
smaller animal when we had our chance at you! Go now, to the
summerlands, knowing that your death had purpose."
And another deer was brought down, neither old, nor protecting
another, but simply because deer are hunted by wolves in this vision
of mine, and it is the way of the world for the hunters to hunt the
prey, when they need to eat.
And they said "We will eat you, but another deer is spared, to grow
stronger and faster; maybe this winter, one of us will starve, because
the only deer who remain are too fast for us. Go now, to the
summerlands, knowing that even this death had purpose."
John smiles sadly, realizing that this spell is reaching its climax.
Gathering his energies, people see he is building... something. He
realizes the time for showing what he's building has not come, yet.
So he chants...
"Every pain can matter
As does every sparrow's fall
So go and live your feelings
always listen for their call.
Every laugh can matter
and bring some joy to all
so open up to happiness
and shout it down the hall.
Every love does matter
And makes us stronger still
So love as well as anyone can
And let love guide your will"
Music, poetry twiddles, and writing... three potent forms of magic,
and now, the energy and the time are right.
With slow, careful gestures, he starts to shape energy into a
sculpture, and soon it is done.
People look at it, and they see... Callahans.
Except they look over the bar, and they see that the grafitti on the
wall isn't quite ... right. It's too far away to read, but it's in
different patterns.
Looking again, they see people they've never seen before, including a
bearded Kzin, with ... with a *sprite* in his *beard*? Surely this
couldn't be the fearsome Speaker-to-Minerals people have spoken of!
They see a bunch of different people, some they recognize, and some
they don't.
"It's not prettier, is it?" John asks, and people have to agree...
some people might like it better, but you couldn't say it was
*prettier*.
"The people aren't better, are they?" John asks, and people have to
agree, again... there are good people, and less-good people, just like
there are everywhere you go, in both the 'real' bar, and in this
representation of it.
"You couldn't say there was anything *better* about this one, could
you?" he asks, and some people start to realize this is going.
"No... there's not a damn thing wrong with *this* one", he says,
indicating his model, "or *this* one", he says, indicating the rest of
the bar.
"But over the past months, I realized something. Only *one* of
these... only one of them was... *mine*.
"Only one of them had some... some *something* that made it the
alt.callahans that I loved.
"This isn't talking about how things were better in the good old
days... I doubt they were. But they were different... and they are
what I think of.
"This isn't saying that the people aren't wonderful... it's just that
they're not the same people I realized I think of when I think about
alt.callahans.
"This isn't saying I think this alt.callahans isn't a great, wonderful
place to be... it is. But it's not *my* alt.callahans, and I realize
if I stay, I'm going to keep running into that.
"If you believe there is no clam chowder but New England style, it
doesn't matter if you're eating the best Manhattan style clam chowder
on the planet, you're going to keep expecting a creamy, milk based
broth, not a taste of tomato-ey goodness. It's not that you'll think
you're eating *bad* soup... you'll just feel you're eating the *wrong*
soup.
John pauses, and suggests those unable to tolerate ugliness in
language blur past the spoiler space, and then blur past the next set
of spoiler space, not reading the information in between, as he's
about to put on a part of his personality that he keeps far from the
surface. Also, please note that the person described hopefully does
not exist, and doesn't refer to those who wonder, only those who
insist, with certainty, and... well, never mind. Read it if you want,
but you won't miss anything too important if you don't.
(snip some suggesting that I will be *most* put out if someone suggests that I'm leaving based upon a recent flame war.)
"Anyway... this has been building up for, god, probably over a year. I
won't lie and say that the events of the past few days didn't
crystallize the decision, but nothing could have made the decision
happen if it wasn't already past time - and I do mean *PAST* time, as
in, I could (and maybe should) have made this decision months ago.
"I thought about waiting a few days, just so no one would have to do
so much as contemplate this question, but I started writing some of
the stuff in this post, and I realized I was crying as I wrote
"Roadrunner", and I knew *why*. Because it really *was* time to say
goodbye, for now, and quite likely, forever, to the place... though I
hope not to lose touch with many of the people.
"But I realized that I wouldn't be so well able to create my
'farewell' gift, if it wasn't time to wish that you folks, and the
place itself, all fare well without me.
"Now, I could say that I hate long goodbyes, but I think I'd have
proven I wasn't being entirely accurate if I said that, so instead,
I'll say I hate to over-prolong a goodbye, and..."
And as he speaks the last word, he vanishes.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-01-25 08:04 am (UTC)*hug*
Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 06:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-25 12:56 pm (UTC)Interestingly, I originally came to LiveJournal to read up on friends and acquaintances who were no longer active in my primary newsgroup (rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc, or RATMM), and found quite a few folks from alt.callahans here too, to my delight. I'm glad you're one of them.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 06:13 am (UTC)(re-reading that, I don't know if the reason for the frustration/head pounding comes through... it's because when you meet someone of good mind, good heart, and good will who disagrees with you on fundamental levels, you have to accept that what you'd like to think is perfectly obvious and patently true, *isn't*... it's just what you, personally, would like to believe, and someone else who's also seeking truth can see things differently.)
Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 04:30 pm (UTC)I tried to email this, but it bounced...so I'm commenting here
Date: 2004-01-25 04:04 pm (UTC)of the morning sun. With it comes the form of a person who has not been here
of late, but who has never forgotten, not once...
She takes her usual place at the bar, and waggles a finger at Mike, who
gives his slow half grin and puts a Blessing down beside the gold coin she
put down on the shining but decidedly beat up bar top.
She looks slowly around, and seeks out the empty space where John used to
be, picks up her Blessing, sips, and then begins slowly.
"John, my friend, what you say is true. It isn't the place that changes...it
is US. It isn't that the Place isn't what it used to be, because the Place
never changes. It is WE who change."
She sighs. "We are told in the legend that we find this place at just the
time we need it, and there is great comfort in that thought. It is good to
know that there is a place in this world that will reach out and take you in
at just the time you most need to be loved, to be accepted, to be helped and
to be found. How many lost people have found their way to this Place, and
suddenly felt not so lost anymore? I was one of those, and I'm sure I was
neither the first, nor shall I be the last, as the legend grew from the
tales of many. And so we find what we need here, when we need it. But the
flip side of that is that, when we stop finding it, or when we have found
what we need and then it is ours, it follows that perhaps our bonds are not
so strong as they once were."
She runs a finger around the rim of her drink and savors the sweet crunch of
sugar there, and thinks of another who loved the sweet grit of the Blessing
found in this place....
She continues. "I found much here. I found a life here that was so
astoundingly miraculous as to make my head swim. I found Scribe here, and he
found me. And because of this place, my own incredible tale grew, and all
who were here were a part of it. It was a story amazing, a legend all on its
own within the legend of the Place, and it was real." She shakes her head
and grins. "For all the naysayers, I tell you true--it *was* real." She
looks up with teary eyes. "And when Scribe passed from this plane, and as I
drove home from the hospital with nothing but that empty seat beside me, it
was to all of you that I most gratefully and relievedly returned. I could
barely stand it until I could get here, and tell you the news, and allow
myself to feel the warmth of this place. I needed to be here--just as I
needed to be here to find him."
She regards the empty spot again. "And I am most amazingly blessed, because
there was another I found here who has come into my life to take his own
unique and wonderful place in my heart. And this has changed me and my life
even more than the changes that Scribe brought to me, because this time, the
changes have been quiet and deep, and have made me unafraid of life, of
loving, of myself.
(con't)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-25 04:04 pm (UTC)grief. I needed to learn about the support and affection of good people. I
needed to learn the magick of the place, the real *meaning* behind both
shared pain and shared joy. And in this place, I have shared my deepest joy,
and my most horrific pain, and learned to look at both, and share both, and
celebrate both. And for as grateful as I am to have found my loves here,
both Scribe and Paul, it was this opportunity to know what it means to slap
entropy in the face, within myself, that I needed this place." She smiles.
"This Place suddenly made what I was doing with my life not good enough, and
it pushed me to strive for more. More success, more love, more connection,
more thought--more LIFE. And strangely enough, when one finds more life,
ones needs change. And so you find yourself clinging to the memory of a
Place that is magickal and wonderful and beautiful, but finding that your
need to return over and over is less, because you have replaced that need
with LIFE."
She lifts her glass aloft and says, "John, dear, I hope that this is the
case with you--that you have found here what you needed and so, rightfully,
move on. And I know you well enough to know that you would be grateful to
know that you have given back to this place even half of what you found
here--which is my dearest and most sincere hope for myself. For what it's
worth, you have given back to ME, and I know you have done so for others as
well. You have been faithful to the spirit of the Place, and I am grateful
to have known you."
She turns to the patrons, and sees the many new faces here, raises her glass
to them and says, "May you find here what you seek, may you be as fortunate
in your experiences here as I have been, and may you come to love each other
the way that so many of those who came before you have loved. May you share
your joy and your pain with compassion and truth, and may you never
thirst..."
She hurls her glass into the fireplace, and reaches into one of her many
pockets to pull out a huge sack of coins. She places it on the bar and
says...
"Drinks are on me..."--and grins as the patrons lift their glasses over her
head to grant her wish.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 06:16 am (UTC)And yes, I'm glad to think that I left the place better for my passage, and gave back some of what I found.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-25 07:16 pm (UTC)People and groups of people change. Change or die, that seems to be the way of the world.
The faces and voices in the Place-as-it-is-in-my-head no longer match was is there now. And while I won't say the Place as it is is bad, it's simply not *my* Place.
In *my* Place, there's a laughing young woman who is being whirled through dance after dance for the first time in her life, do you remember? There's a Marine with a guitar. There's a pack of women in black satin jackets. There's a talking rocket ship. And, yes, there's a dogged, sincere, sometimes hoarse from the strain voice in one corner, as the resident Crazyman tries to make his point.
That Place exists now, only in my memory and the archives of Google. Not all of those memories are of posts on a screen. That laughing young woman DID dance, in RL, and those of us who saw it watched through tears. It was, to be very precise in my choice of words, magic.
We have had our differences, to put it mildly. And for a time we lost each other. Yet here I am, to say I understand where you're coming from and know how hard that post must have been to write. And THAT, my friend, may be the part of the magic of the Place that doesn't go away.
Maybe you'll go back to the newsgroup. Maybe you won't. But in my Place, you'll always be there, talking, explaining, trying to wrestle entropy to a draw... writing a memorial rap song for my wedding. We carry a piece of the Place within us wherever we go. And sometimes, if we're lucky, we get the knack of invoking that spirit in our lives.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-25 08:47 pm (UTC)John and I have been discussing this for a couple of days, but you just nailed it.
You know, it's not just the shared joy and the shared pain. It's also shared memories. And we get to keep those, and the dear friends who helped create them, even if we walk away from the newsgroup.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 06:28 am (UTC)I don't know if I would have been strong enough to do this nearly as easily, without you in my life, darlin'... and I'm glad we had the weekend just past.
Leaving left a gap in my life... but you showed me that I have a full life anyway.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 06:26 am (UTC)And yes... I do remember. Sometimes it's amazing to think of Rivka not being able to dance.
I guess that's part of the deal... take the past, and forge the future in the present, realizing that it'll never stand still, so you have to enjoy the *now*, while you still have it.
But just because the time is past, doesn't mean the time is *gone*.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-26 12:31 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 06:30 am (UTC)Chuckle; you're another person I'm glad to see here.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-26 04:01 am (UTC)Sometimes letting go is good.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 06:31 am (UTC)But, it was fun while it lasted, and while I might have stuck around a little too long, I guess I'm glad I was around too long, rather than not long enough.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 03:32 pm (UTC)That's more or less what I meant. I wandered in once, scratched my head, and wandered back out. But, then, it's been years since I read any Spider Robinson and to tell you the truth all I remember about that author is his name. So I may be congenitally unequipped to "get" Callahans (which is not the novel I read, I don't think).
no subject
Date: 2004-01-26 04:37 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 06:34 am (UTC)But... I am starting to remember how, when I was doing some serious writing, I had to vanish from a.c for a few days, because it was too effective in scratching my writing itch. I'm finding that I'm writing more, now... so I think that's a good sign.
Of course, I hope to start work on my next novel, soon. (Okay, I'm cheating there. I already have... I just don't know if it'll really turn into a novel.)
no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 01:33 am (UTC)I've been randomly browsing friends-of-friends lists, seeing what I bump into. And, here I am...
I disappeared from a.c a couple years ago - feels like forever. My reason was simply a lack of time - a day behind, a week, and suddenly catching up felt like more time that I had. I left without saying goodbye, without saying much of anything, really - but it is rather my style, I suppose, to disappear quietly into shadows. But the place _is_ - well, was - mine, and I miss it.
What I miss about it is the people. And John, your name is pretty high on that list. I am not there - but I know, without you, the Place is not the same, not the place I knew. And I know what you mean - with every person who has walked away, or disappeared, the Place is slightly less mine. No worse, but not mine.