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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Rambi who wrote (53481)	7/18/2000 4:24:18 PM
From: Gauguin	Respond to of 71178

What THE HECK are you talking about. We need to move on. eom

To: Rambi who wrote (53481)	7/18/2000 4:50:11 PM
From: Ish	Read Replies (3) \| Respond to of 71178

Ok, this isn't as deep as Sven Birkerts' The Gutenberg Elegies but I've noticed something. Years ago I'd hear a joke or two a day, remember them and recall them. Now with the internet, boom, 30 a day, and I can't remember a single one!!! Now I can't be sure this has to do with depth vs lateral or just getting old.

To: Rambi who wrote (53481)	7/18/2000 5:39:02 PM
From: Gauguin	Respond to of 71178

You know how after, well, twenty years, people get to know you? Get you pegged? We just have a few close friends? I mean in 3D? And Sunday one of them came over to lend me his chain saw. I wasn't sure I wanted to borrow it, because it has teeth and a motor. Hmmmm. It's like a formula: t+m+P = M. (teeth plus motor plus Paul = Mayhem.) You can change the first number, e.g. "blades" for "teeth," but the rest are fixed. People seem to know that. I mean they know I'm The Best; like at pruning trees or rhodies or building stuff or knowing where to go; but they also know that statistically I'm also The Best at crashing, falling, catching on fire, and sawing off limbs. I seem to have a reputation. Yah. Because when my friend came by, he said he stopped over at my other friend's on the way here, to pick up some stuff, and he said he told her he was on the way here, to lend me his chain saw. And he starts laughing, and I say what; and he said, she said, "Don't." "She just said one word," he says, giggling. "Don't." "She seemed pretty concerned," he says. He keeps saying "Dont!", and laughing his way around the kitchen. It IS pretty funny.

To: Rambi who wrote (53481)	7/18/2000 6:10:15 PM
From: Justin C	Respond to of 71178

Just last week in the Houston Chronicle's weekly Dining Guide letters column (Whine & Dine), a reader had these comments about restaurant noise levels and a previous suggestion by a reader that a noise-level rating be included in restaurant reviews ... "Who decided that noise means people are having fun? It's insane. I vote for the noise-level rating. This past week we ate at ..... , the new Argentine grill. The live music was wonderful, but we kept wishing they would stop playing so we could talk. We sat through the entire meal unable to talk to each other. The only 'up' part of the situation was that the cellphone users had to go outside to talk."

To: Rambi who wrote (53481)	7/18/2000 9:33:12 PM
From: E	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 71178

Your story about CW in school reminded me of an incident that took place when my son was in the first grade. We got a call from the principal, who happened to be a very nice fellow. He said that Jason had just been in his office (uh oh, I thought), and what had happened was a first in his career. It seems that Jason had walked out of his first grade class to go to the principal's office for the purpose of telling the principal something very important -- that the teacher was speaking to the children extremely rudely. The (very amused) principal told Jason that he would speak to the teacher about that, but requested that in the future, Jason get permission before leaving the classroom, or wait until after school to report any misbehavior on the part of the teachers.

To: Rambi who wrote (53481)	7/19/2000 12:45:24 AM
From: Ilaine	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 71178

I called my cousin Harvey on Monday, to tell him about the Hepler family tree I had found, and tell him about the Hepler family reunion, and ask if he wanted to come. He didn't, but he said he had a box full of photos and letters that he had cleared out of his mother's apartment when she died in 1997, and did I want them? So I drove out to Sykesville this morning, I told them I would be there at 11 but it took me longer to get there than I thought (I got there at 12:30, I should have taken the interstate, even though it was twice as far that way it took half as long to get back), so they weren't there but they left the box on the porch. Jeez, Louise. I can't tell you what the things in the box mean to me. Photos of everyone in my family, and family letters, going back to pre-1900. I found out that my Big Grandpa Harvey was married before, and that my grandmother had a half sister I never heard of. Pictures and pictures of people, some of them labelled, but most of them not. I don't know who they are. Big Grandma and Aunt Iris knew who the people were, but they're dead. What a shame. There are so many pictures, that I can figure out some of them by comparing faces. As for the rest, who knows?