All my love to long ago

Currently hip-deep in ancient emails and Usenet postings, trying to jog long-buried memories of the Blakes 7 Poster Magazine. There's a lot of bewildered nostalgia involved - does it count as nostalgia if your memories are an empty blur? - and a ton of stuff that just makes me cringe. What memories have survived have tended to be the bitterest ones - fights with woman-haters, fights with fans, fights with friends.

Something I had forgotten was the fan email (often from men!) from my days battling anti-feminists on Usenet. "I wanted to compliment you on your mostly unfailing good humor and persistence", "Let me say I think you have real class to put up with all this without, as we yanks say, 'blowing your cool.'" "Well...you sure have been taking on the boys! Keep up the good work. Thanks." "*ROFL*! Damn, I wish I could be deft like you! GOOD 'UN!" It's providing aid and comfort to my battered old soul. Gods know where any of those people are now - but thanks, guys.

And amidst that balm: something just as good for me. :D

It's the night of the WIZARDZ premiere party for the QL CD and the
tapes.

A group of Leapers is on an elevator, discussing the *usual*. A
woman in the front of the elevator spots Scott, who is definitely
heading their way. She passes the word, and a hush falls over
the group. (Rule #1 of Leaperdom: Etiquette demands that
we drool pure and chaste from afar...drool is hell on LA Gear
sneakers, after all.)

Scott enters the elevator to a respectful, drool-free hush.
Then a voice pops up from the back of the elevator:

OmiGOD!!!! It's SCOTT BAKULA! (Insert proper fan shriek inflec-
tion here.)


At this point, the other ladies on the car are caught between
mortification and possible murder. Scott turns to the back
of the car, and says, waving cheerily....

"Hi Christy."

It was his wife.