From: owner-rockford-files-digest@smoe.org (The Rockford Files) To: rockford-files-digest@smoe.org Subject: The Rockford Files V1 #320 Reply-To: rockford-files@smoe.org Sender: owner-rockford-files-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-rockford-files-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk The Rockford Files Sunday, November 29 1998 Volume 01 : Number 320 Today's Filings: ----------------- just for tavia Significant other stuff would i post... snort cheesy mashed potatoes are a gift from God ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Sat, 28 Nov 1998 04:23:19 -0500 From: Dan Cohen Subject: just for tavia Because I feel good, and stuff, and because Canada is a foreign country: Last year, my quasi-girlfriend and I decided to go to Montreal over Memorial Day weekend. We both spoke pretty good French, and she was leaving for college when school got out anyway and wanted to make a big stand, so we made plans to go. The drive up was eventful, to say the least; we got really lost in Ontario and then couldn't understand some of the street signs once the language turned to French. We eventually found the campground and pitched our tent. What we didn't understand is that this place in Laval, right outside Montreal, was 1) smack between the red-light district and a mountain and 2) a place where old retired French-Canadians went and lived in an RV for the summer. So we were the only people sleeping in a tent, and we were the American kids who didn't speak sufficient French, and everyone was looking at us funny. This came into play when it was revealed that we didn't have a hammer. Now I didn't want to forage in the woods for a rock since, frankly, it was rural Quebec in May and the bears were out, and I wasn't sure the bears spoke English that well. So we found an EXTREMELY well-apportioned RV with Barcaloungers, toilets, track lighting, satellite dish, etc. (they were watching Seinfeld in French, which was interesting) and asked the owner, "Pouvons-nous emprunter un, um, hammer?" She made some hammering motions behind me and eventually he understood. We got the hammer and got everything settled. Now at this time we weren't really together, just really close friends. Everyone we knew could see it coming and I think we both thought so too. So we walked around for a while exploring the campground and I told her what I thought of her on top of this hill as we watched the stars. And that was it. The next day, we decided to explore Old Montreal. So we found a subway station and managed somehow to find out where we needed to go...a lot quicker than I thought, since Kristen wasn't the best with directions. Our first stop was the botanical garden. Now, I wasn't into this, mainly since I would have enjoyed going down to the Olympic Stadium or checking out the big civic center/flea market/whatever by the river. But I figured, hey, if I played my cards right I could have a really good time that night, so I said nothing. It wasn't as bad as I feared; I was a bit bored in the medicinal garden as she looked at the different herbs, but the big Japanese pagoda-type thing was cool, and I got some good pictures. Well, hell, I thought, after that was done and she wanted to go to the Biodome, which is a big ol' indoor zoo. Haven't we had enough nature for one day? We went, but first I managed to drag her up to the funiculaire, which is the cable car that takes you to the big-ass thing on top of the Olympic Stadium which can't be described in words, it's so weird. I got some more pictures. In the zoo, we were watching the penguins when this Canadian girl and I started flirting, but Kristen had been doing it earlier with the ticket-taker at the garden, so I figured I owed her one. Bad idea. She decided not to speak to me for a while. We next headed for the center of the city, saw some street performers, bought some trinkets and shit, and went back to the campsite for dinner before a night of clubbing. By now, the differences between us were coming out in full detail, as I balked at eating tofu dogs and cooked a meat-based coney of my own. I think this pissed her off infinitely. By now, we were tense, but the club endeavor helped things a little. We found a little jazz hole called the Cafe Theleme where the Stu Krause Jazz Quartet was going on. Now, right across the street the Suicide Machines were playing. But she wanted to go see the Stu Krause Four, so guess what we did? Hehe. We sat on a patio for a while. All these youths kept coming up near us; in Montreal, it seems, teenagers have a LOT more freedom than in the States. By now Kristen and I were near reconciliation, and we talked for a while more before leaving when the set ended at around 1 am. Interesting note: The bassist of Stu's Band of Idiots played a few licks from Philosophy during their encore (the part where I wasn't asleep, anyway). Cool stuff. Then came Sunday, the day when it all went wrong. Her big idea was to go to Mass and then Mont Royal, which is the big-ass mountain in the middle of the city. Now she's Catholic (her dad is a religious ed director), and I'm, well, not. So this was a problem. But I went anyway, although I refused to pray (not that I would have been able to do it correctly in French anyway) or pay $4 to light a damned candle. Seriously, this was a major issue. She wanted me to light one for our English teacher from a while back, who was sick at the time, and I thought that whatever god was going to receive her holy wish smoke or whatever really wouldn't give two shits whether she paid $4 for a big one or $2 for a little one. She wouldn't speak to me, and I finally said that maybe we should go to the synagogue and see whether they were charging to pray. You can see what sort of turn this was taking already. On the top of Mont Royal is a big-ass illuminated cross (Montrealers are mostly very Catholic) and she wanted to go see it. I had to bring up the point that I'd be uncomfortable with it again. She finally decided to leave then, and we went back to Laval, packed up, and left. On the road home things got a little better; we began to joke around (there was a huge-ass marathon being run to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the state of Israel that day which was backing up traffic to quite an extent and then something called the Trout Festival which detoured us almost to Vermont on an unfamiliar highway. Then came Hogansburg. Hogansburg, NY, is one of those places that makes you feel really sorry for everything. Destitute Indian reservation, site of a near-civil war a few years back... Of course, Kristen wanted to stop. We went into a combination convenience store/bingo hall to look for food. There was nothing there, and she took my mention that a sandwich looked really groady to be a personal insult to the Mohawk people. Needless to say, we didn't speak again on the trip home. Not a kiss goodbye, not even a wave. In retrospect, it's probably for the best; she had problems and she didn't want to stick around Liverpool any more, so she's now going to Wells, the college with the highest percentage of lesbians in the country. Good for her. I wish her well, dammit, but I'm never going back to Montreal with her. Beautiful city, shitty vacation. Sorry this has nothing to do with anything. Prerequisite story of my international experiences, OK? Let's Go Orange! Big game tomorrow....gotta beat Miami... - -- Dan Cohen Network Techni-whatever, Retail Flunky, Cable Modem Bee-yotch PC Solutions, Inc. Liverpool, New York http://emeraldsky.dyn.ml.org UIN:13907258 "He who forgets is destined to remember..." ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 28 Nov 1998 23:04:45 -0500 From: Kristin Klevering Subject: Significant other stuff I just got back from a Thanksgiving weekend with my boyfriend, meeting his family for the first time. They live in the back hills of West Virginia, and it was really interesting meeting them. I liked them all, although I had a difficult time trying to talk to his mother. She was very nice, but couldn't engage in conversation. She'd just say stuff, and there was no way to start a conversation by what she'd throw out there. I was so afraid to offend her, that I just agreed with her (even if I didn't) and just let it lie. Ed (boyfriend) said I did the right thing. His grandma made the best food, and I ate a ton. Even Ed was surprised at how much I ate! But, of course, it was yummy and I didn't want to offend anyone. I had to say no at the third helping of bacon, eggs and sausage gravy, though. Ed and I sang along (poorly) to BFF most of the way through Ohio on our way home. Just trying to keep awake and have fun on the drive. We did do some Mad Libs, as I brought a book along with me. He kept throwing me dirty words, which made the Mad Libs so funny! Then I call my Mom to let her know I'm home, and she starts planning my wedding again. Yikes! Let's just wait until I get a ring on my finger, will ya, Mom? Glad to be back home in the flatter lands of Ann Arbor - Kristin ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 28 Nov 1998 23:42:17 -0800 (PST) From: "Jordan W." Subject: would i post... snort nah, that would never happen. weekend has been boring. i was thinking, i was a convert from the (shudder) MA when you guys fearlessly invaded. and you know what? i wouldn't post anything for about a month for fear of being kicked off the listserv. i've come a long way. i was actually scared, that i wouldn't fit in. and you know what? i don't, but neither do you guys and we are all bonded by something stronger than the intangable threads of some international network of computers. even, perhaps, even greater than some love of some strange band with a name that makes no sense (and i do know the stor(y/ies) behind it. i've been here long enough for that. it's because, in society, we are freaks. well, maybe not all of us, but i'm sure that i am, and that means that Dan is, and i'm asssuming that Markus, Matthew, Anne, Spencer, all the Katies, Eric, Erik and everyone else are too. i could be way off. dontcha love that? i like fear of pop. and i don't care. this was a post in aid of international brotherhood/sisterhood/androgyniousity. i love you guys. someone say something nice about the boy from oz, now please? (that's me, by the way) Jordan _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 29 Nov 1998 00:24:59 -0800 From: exuberantly squishy Subject: cheesy mashed potatoes are a gift from God so here i sit.. saturday night. got home and heated up some home made (by me!) mashed potatoes and smothered them in cheddar cheese. Y-U-M! so how was everyone's thanksgivings? mine was fun/stressful. I made thanksgiving dinner for meslef, my dad, my roommate and our friend Pat. and the turkey turned out really moist and yummy. so yay me. went to see Very Bad Things tonight..... um.. yikes. all i have to say is that i'm very VERY worried about Peter Berg. but that guy Leland Orser looks like a thinner version of my friend Gus. we went to see the movie in Santa Monica, and as we were walking down the Promenade past Borders, i see a guy standing next to the palm tree, and i think to myself "gee, that guy looks like Matt Bivins... sorta..." it wasn't. it was Dylan McDermott. i damn near fell over.... good lord he is one damn fine looking man. and he was a geek in high school. if you've seen the prom pictures, you know what i'm talking about. well, i have a wedding to go to tomorrow and i must get up early. i love you all. ~Courtney The Sultraness of Swing "This is MY day!!" ------------------------------ End of The Rockford Files V1 #320 *********************************