Dave was going to be a math major.  But it wasn't too long into
his freshman year that he was saying that all mathematics is
trivial and uninteresting.  Stupid and boring.  Vacuous and
repetititve.  Lifeless and sterile.

Is it necessary to say that I did not agree?  I stuck with
mathematics, going on to earn a doctorate in the subject.  Dave
switched to philosophy, then literature.  Burned out on college at
one point and took a leave of absence, which he spent in Paris.
Didn't do much while he was there.  Rented a little room
somewhere.  Got up in the morning, wandered around the streets for
a while, ate, drank, went back to his room and slept.  Sent me a
postcard now and then.  His parents were worried about him.

He came back to school.  Seemed to have gotten his head together.
Became something of an activist, or at least as much of an activist
as it was fashionable to be in those days.  Wrote letters to the
school newspaper complaining about large class sizes.  Not exactly
world-shaking radical activity, no?

I guess Dave graduated, a little behind the rest of us on account
of his leave of absence.  I lost track of him.  Actually, I never
found him to be that interesting a person, so I had no particular
desire to keep in touch.  Okay I guess, just not real
interesting.  I don't even know why I'm telling you this.

52 responses total.

Have we met before?

Ah, the soul of a slumber nigh.

Deva ju!

(Like, wow, man!  I can remember that happening to someone else that I've never
met.)

(other is getting that grex-addiction)

'cause he's responding to himself or because he's using expressions
like "Nom de guerre"?

...

BTW, what does Nom de guerre mean?  Name of a guerrilla?

I thought it just meant penname.

I believe that is "nom de plume".

No, I believe that's "phnom penh."  "Nom de plume" means "parallel park."

Oh of course. Pardon my French. It's a Good Thing you're back
to correct me in such matters, Mr. MD.

I wonder if Michael logged in today because he sensed
we were talking about him over dinner at Cottage Inn 
Cafe last night.  

"Remember md?"

"No."

"Pass the salt."

No, it was more like:

"Wonder where md's disappeared to?"

"Dunno, but alien abduction is always a possibility."

"Pass the salt."

Cottage Inn Cafe?

A restaurant in Ann Arbor, where the really neat meet, greet,
and subsequently eat.

What kinda grub do they serve there?

Italian type grub. They used to be just a pizza joint but have
upscaled over the years.

Is this a favorite hangout of local grexers?

Oh, not particularly. I can't think of any one place that I'd
call a "favorite hangout" for Grexers.

The Pumpkin?

No, that's more of a "necessary" hangout.

Must... go... to... pumpkin... must... go...

Now if they started serving pumpkin pie at the cottage inn cafe, then perhaps
a visit would be in order.

mmm... pumpkin pie...

We should all eat pumpkin pie more often!

Obviously, none of *your* friends are pumpkins, or you wouldn't dream
of saying things like that.  

five little pumpkins sitting on a gate

four fell down and who was left?

Sick, sick, sick!  You probably sang "Ring Around the Rosie" as children,
too.  

who's rosie?

It was infinitely better than getting the plague.  We considered
it public health community education.

Infinitely better than getting the *black* plague, the *orange* plague, or
the *fuchsia paisley* plague?

If it's the orange plague, Rosie's the Great Pumpkin's kid sister.
Otherwise ask alfee.

Really, do ask.

We're asking.
(what was the question?)

The question is merely the means to the answer.

Within every question is the defined parameter of the answer.

You haven't heard some of the questions I've heard.

- Backtalk version 1.3.30 - Copyright 1996-2006, Jan Wolter and Steve Weiss