From: "L-Soft list server at Indiana University (1.8d)" To: "ARTF@MemoryAlpha.nil" File: "LOISCLA-GENERAL-L LOG0011B" ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 8 Nov 2000 22:38:40 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: NEW: Metanoia (8/10?) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="UTF-8" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable TITLE: The Martha Chronicles 3: Metanoia PART: 8/10 AUTHOR: Christy Kubit (attalanta@aol.com) FEEDBACK: All comments are welcome, public or private. SUMMARY: In the third and (maybe) final part of the series, Martha returns=20 home to attend to family problems and tries to maintain a long-distance=20 relationship with Jonathan. NOTE: This is the only scene I'm really still concerned about; is the=20 conversation between Martha and Jonathan working or should it be changed?? S= o=20 feedback would be especially helpful on this section (please, I'm begging=20 you!!) * * * * * =E2=80=9CAnd my grandmother=E2=80=99s been a complete pill lately,=E2=80=9D=20= I said to Jonathan.=20 =E2=80=9CYou won=E2=80=99t believe what she=E2=80=99s done this time. You kn= ow that she=E2=80=99s been=20 trying to set me up with my mother=E2=80=99s doctor; well, now she=E2=80=99s= given him our=20 phone number! So, even though I told him I was seeing someone, he keeps=20 calling. And Grandmother makes sure to give me every message, reminding me=20 how *stable* a career medicine is, how well Gordon could provide for me, how= =20 lucky it is that he lives in Boston, close to the family=E2=80=A6 I=E2=80= =99m getting so=20 sick of it!=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CWell, lucky for you I know this great, out-of-the-way farm. And if=20= you play=20 your cards right, I might be able to fix you up with this lonely farmer who= =E2=80=99s=20 looking to get engaged=E2=80=A6=E2=80=9D I sighed. Did he ever quit? =E2=80=9CJonathan, my mother=E2=80=A6=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CBut I thought your mother was feeling better,=E2=80=9D he said. =E2=80=9CShe is, but not enough that I can leave! She still needs me here.= =E2=80=9D=20 =E2=80=9CYou know, Martha, I understood it in the beginning; there was a cri= sis and=20 you had to go home. And it seemed like you were straightening things out and= =20 moving on. But the longer you stay there, the more it sounds like you don= =E2=80=99t=20 *want* to come back, like they=E2=80=99ve brainwashed you.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CThey=E2=80=99re not brainwashing me! Jonathan, what are you talking= about?=E2=80=9D How=20 could I explain to him that, even though I loved him =E2=80=93 frustrated th= ough I=20 may be at that moment =E2=80=93 my mother needed me in Boston? =E2=80=9CMaybe I=E2=80=99m overstepping my bounds here, Martha, but I just d= on=E2=80=99t understand=20 you anymore. Your mother=E2=80=99s not a child; she=E2=80=99s been home for=20= a while now, and=20 I don=E2=80=99t know if she needs you anymore. You being there isn=E2=80=99t= going to=20 protect her from her problems.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CJonathan, you don=E2=80=99t understand!=E2=80=9D I cried. =E2=80= =9CYou can=E2=80=99t ask me to choose=20 between you and my mother. Just because she=E2=80=99s out of the hospital do= esn=E2=80=99t=20 mean she=E2=80=99s well again, or even *functional.* I have to take care of=20= her!=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CNo, you=E2=80=99ve told me what you do all day, the charity luncheo= ns with your=20 grandmother and shopping trips and visiting your long-lost best friend. It=20 all sounds like fun, Martha =E2=80=93 it really does =E2=80=93 but it sounds= like you=E2=80=99re=20 running away. Maybe you=E2=80=99re afraid to come back and face your feeling= s=E2=80=A6 Or=20 maybe you just don=E2=80=99t love me anymore.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CWhat? Of course I still love you!=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CI=E2=80=99ve told you how I feel, laid it all on the line, and you=20= up and leave!=20 Now, what am I supposed to think?=E2=80=9D I sighed. =E2=80=9CJonathan, just because I didn=E2=80=99t say yes-=E2=80= =9D =E2=80=9CThis has nothing to do with that. Sure, I was mad and I didn=E2=80= =99t understand =E2=80=93=20 I *still* don=E2=80=99t understand, but -=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CNo, you don=E2=80=99t, do you? My mother needs me here. Not everyon= e has the=20 perfect family you have. Some of our lives are a little more complicated!= =E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CI=E2=80=99m going to forget what you just said, Martha, because I k= now that you=E2=80=99re=20 angry; you know that two dead brothers don=E2=80=99t fit into the picture of= a=20 perfect family,=E2=80=9D he said, and I pressed against my forehead with the= palm of=20 my hand. Stupid, Martha, just stupid. That sure isn=E2=80=99t going to help=20= matters! =E2=80=9CYou know,=E2=80=9D Jonathan said bitterly, =E2=80=9Cmaybe we=E2=80= =99re just from too-different=20 worlds. You grew up in a mansion in the big city, with lots of money, and I= =E2=80=99m=20 from *Small*ville, for pity=E2=80=99s sake! I=E2=80=99m a farmer - the son o= f a farmer - and=20 maybe to you that means I don=E2=80=99t have any ambition. I didn=E2=80=99t=20= travel to Europe=20 or spend Daddy=E2=80=99s money in college; maybe I=E2=80=99m just too backwa= rd and=20 unsophisticated for you, Martha.=E2=80=9D Then the zinger, his voice seeping with malice: =E2=80=9CDo I need to buy yo= u a ring?=20 Would I be good enough for you *then?*=E2=80=9D Tears came to my eyes at the animosity in his voice. =E2=80=9CJonathan, don= =E2=80=99t -=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CNo, Martha, it=E2=80=99s your turn to listen to me for a change. Yo= u say no to my=20 proposal; you run back home to Boston, which might as well be another=20 *planet,* as far as I=E2=80=99m concerned; and you show no signs of even wan= ting to=20 come back=E2=80=A6 You have to make a decision, Martha: Kansas or Boston. Yo= u can=E2=80=99t=20 have it both ways.=E2=80=9D My chest pounded with panic, the pressure pinning me into the chair. This wa= s=20 like something out of a bad novel, where the heroine has to choose between a= =20 controlling suitor and her overprotective family. And, like the misunderstoo= d=20 heroine, my silence answered for me. =E2=80=9CI thought so,=E2=80=9D Jonathan said. =E2=80=9CI get it. Now you= =E2=80=99re talking about another=20 man=E2=80=A6 a doctor, no less! How stupid can I get? It=E2=80=99s obvious y= ou=E2=80=99ve moved on.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CWeren=E2=80=99t you even listening?=E2=80=9D I cried. =E2=80=9C*I*= =E2=80=99m not talking about another=20 man; it=E2=80=99s my grandmother. It=E2=80=99s not me, it=E2=80=99s her; it= =E2=80=99s all my grandmother.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CSure.=E2=80=9D His tone was sharp, raw with acrimony, and I held th= e phone away=20 from my ear for a moment, suppressing a scream. After taking two deep,=20 calming breaths, I replaced the receiver to my ear, only to hear a dial tone= . Jonathan had hung up on me! I slammed down my own phone and kicked my chair away from the desk so hard=20 that I almost fell backwards. I sat there, staring at the offending phone.=20 How could he hang up on me? Was he really that angry? How could he *not*=20 understand that everything was a mess right now, that I needed time to sort=20 through not just my relationship with him, but my relationship with my=20 family? How could he ask me to choose between them? Did he think a=20 months-old, spur-of-the-moment proposal gave him that right? How dare he? I had just touched the phone with the tips of my fingers, barely stopping=20 myself from calling him back and giving him an earful, when it rang. I jumpe= d=20 back in shock, then smiled knowingly. Jonathan was calling me back; he had=20 realized how cruel he had been and was going to apologize and we would work=20 everything out. I was sure of it; he couldn=E2=80=99t stay mad. I picked up=20= the=20 receiver with a self-satisfied grin. =E2=80=9CI=E2=80=99m sorry,=E2=80=9D I offered generously, hoping to coax hi= m into an apology as=20 well. There was a long pause and the realization of my wrongness plummeted to my=20 stomach, continued down to my toes; it wasn=E2=80=99t Jonathan. =E2=80=9CExcuse me?=E2=80=9D said the voice on the other end of the line. I was so embarrassed that I almost hung up. What if it was one of my=20 grandmother=E2=80=99s friends? She wouldn=E2=80=99t let me hear the end of t= his. I must=E2=80=99ve=20 been five or six when Grandmother taught me the =E2=80=9Cproper=E2=80=9D way= to answer the=20 phone. =E2=80=9CI=E2=80=99m sorry, this is the Clark residence,=E2=80=9D I said qui= ckly. =E2=80=9COh, good,=E2=80=9D the almost-familiar voice said, and I strained t= o place it. =E2=80=9CCan I help you?=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CYes, this is Dr. Gordon Graves, calling for Martha Clark.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CIt=E2=80=99s Martha, Dr. Graves-=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CPlease, call me Gordon.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CGordon, then, hello. I=E2=80=99m sorry about that; I was expecting=20= another call=20 and=E2=80=A6 well, it doesn=E2=80=99t much matter.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CWould you like me to call back another time, since you=E2=80=99re e= xpecting a=20 call?=E2=80=9D he offered politely. =E2=80=9CNo, that=E2=80=99s okay,=E2=80=9D I said. =E2=80=9CHe can call back= .=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CWell, then, Martha, I=E2=80=99ll get right to the point. You know I= fancy you and=20 would like to get to know you better. I was wondering if you=E2=80=99d like=20= to have=20 dinner with me this weekend=E2=80=A6=E2=80=9D I listened as Gordon prattled on, giving me a dozen restaurant options and=20 offering tickets to the symphony, a play that had just opened, the van Gogh=20 exhibit at the museum=E2=80=A6 But I didn=E2=80=99t need to hear any more. =E2=80=9CYes,=E2=80=9D I said. =E2=80=9C=E2=80=A6 or, if you=E2=80=99d rather, we can take a walk by the ri= ver. It=E2=80=99s a little cold=20 at this time of year but,=E2=80=9D he said, then paused. =E2=80=9CWhat did y= ou say?=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CYes, I said yes. I=E2=80=99d love to have dinner with you.=E2=80= =9D =E2=80=9CYou would?=E2=80=9D His voice had suddenly raised an octave. =E2= =80=9CReally?=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CReally,=E2=80=9D I assured him. =E2=80=9CIs Friday night -=E2=80= =9D =E2=80=9CFriday! Yes, yes, fine,=E2=80=9D he cut in, betraying his eagerness= . =E2=80=9CSeven o=E2=80=99clock?=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CYes, seven, seven=E2=80=99s good,=E2=80=9D he cried out. =E2=80=9CI= =E2=80=99ll pick you up Friday at=20 seven.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CI=E2=80=99ll see you then,=E2=80=9D I said. =E2=80=9CYes, see you Friday. Thank you, Martha.=E2=80=9D =E2=80=9CGood-bye,=E2=80=9D I said before hanging up the phone. I wasn=E2=80=99t sure why I did it. I knew it would hurt Jonathan and I didn= =E2=80=99t=20 exactly mind that. I also knew it would be nice to talk to someone who was=20 actually interested in what I had to say. It=E2=80=99s easy to feel spoiled=20= by a=20 little attention when you=E2=80=99re feeling so bad about yourself. * * * * *=20 To be continued in part 9 ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 8 Nov 2000 22:07:21 -0600 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: alauters Subject: Re: NEW: Metanoia (8/10?) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="UTF-8" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit <> S P O I L E R S P A C E Christy, I thought this section worked very well. It gave us a chance to see Jonathan's frustration with the whole situation, and Martha's response to that in a very real way. I do hope she ditches Gordon soon, though. Amy ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 9 Nov 2000 05:49:14 -0700 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Debby Subject: Re: NEW: Metanoia (8/10?) In-Reply-To: <002101c04a02$8ff10020$0f02000a@slirp.csd.uwm.edu> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Does the ? in "(8/10?)" mean that you actually aren't done with this and you don't know how long it will be? I've been thinking "Only ten parts? It's finished and being parceled out due to its length. That's fine. I can wait to get them all and enjoy them all at once." Maybe other writers would like to know what is behind the possible change because the same thing may affect them. Debby huitziln@cais.net ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 9 Nov 2000 23:14:00 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: Re: NEW: Metanoia (8/10?) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Amy, thanks for your feedback; as I said when posting the story, I feel rather uncertain about this section but your comments and those on the MB are helping me to see what works and what does not. << Does the ? in "(8/10?)" mean that you actually aren't done with this and you don't know how long it will be? I've been thinking "Only ten parts? It's finished and being parceled out due to its length. That's fine. I can wait to get them all and enjoy them all at once." Maybe other writers would like to know what is behind the possible change because the same thing may affect them. >> Sorry about that. I am finished with the story. I explained on the MBs (but forgot to say in my post to this list) that I realized recently that I did not partition the story very well when I was dividing it up. So I will most likely break one part into two and send them separately. But it is finished and the rest will be sent out in the next few days. I do realize that many folcs prefer to wait until receiving all parts of a fic before reading it (I know I do sometimes) and I hope you all will let me know what you think when you do read it. Christy ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 10:37:25 +0400 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Comments: RFC822 error: Incorrect or incomplete address field found and ignored. From: Tim & Gaylene Devlin Subject: Research Question - What is a FoLC? MIME-version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed Hi Everyone, As those of you who were at LAFF 2000 will know, I'm doing PhD research on the Lois & Clark fan community, specifically looking at what led to its establishment, what factors sustain it and factors that threaten its continuation. To me, it is a remarkable phenomenon that people, myself included, still actively pursue their interest in a show that ceased production over 3 years ago and this is the focus of my research. I've collected a lot of scholarly articles on fans but it seemed to me that the best way to define a FoLC was to ask the fans themselves. I notice that Loiscla is a bit slow at the moment so I was wondering if people would like to discuss this either on the List or e-mail me privately if preferred. As starter questions I suggest *What are the characteristics of a FoLC? *Is there a difference between the FoLCs of the 'early days' and 'now'? *How is a FoLC different from other fans of TV shows? I feel I should warn people that my study is likely to take 4 years plus before it's completed, so particularly if I get responses to these queries, I am likely to put more to the List at irregular intervals in the future. Seriously though, any opinions people can give would be very much appreciated and if you don't want me to mention you in the published thesis that's fine with me. On the other hand if you are happy to be quoted under your real name or a pseudonym I will undertake to do that too. Gay ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 08:00:40 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: Re: NEW: Metanoia (8/10?) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit In a message dated 11/09/2000 11:14:30 PM Eastern Standard Time, Attalanta@AOL.COM writes: << But it is finished and the rest will be sent out in the next few days. >> So hurry up already!! --Laurie ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 08:42:03 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Pam Jernigan Organization: http://www.geocities.com/~chiefpam/ Subject: Re: Research Question - What is a FoLC? MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Interesting question, Gay :) I've decided that following the election is bad for my blood pressure so I'll take a break and try to do something more fun ;) > To me, it is a remarkable phenomenon that people, myself > included, still actively pursue their interest in a show that ceased > production over 3 years ago and this is the focus of my research. I don't think that's entirely unique to LNC fans, you know -- check out fanfiction.net to find stories posted for lots of defunct shows ... Blake's 7 fandom continued for at least 10 years after that final episode. And we all know about Star Trek fans. We're probably part of a larger phenomenon of media SF fans. Still, it's nice to be spotlighted :) > *What are the characteristics of a FoLC? Well, as you know the term stands for a "Fan of Lois & Clark" -- but I think Internet involvement is key. You can be a fan on your own, but to really be a FOLC you have to be part of the community, which is largely found online. And of course by being around other fans your own interest is stimulated and maintained -- there may not be any new episodes, but here we can find new fanfic stories, and new news about the stars, to keep the show fresh in our minds. I see something of a split (very amicable, but there nonetheless) in current FOLCdom -- there are those who are primarily/only interested in the characters (fanfic, discussion of the episodes), and then there are those who follow the stars' new projects and personal lives. I think of them as the fanfic and gossip crowds. Of course there's crossover, too, but there are some people who stick strictly to one side or the other. I personally have very little interest in what Dean & Teri are doing now; I know people on IRC who have given up on reading fanfic. But we're all FOLCs. > *Is there a difference between the FoLCs of the 'early days' and 'now'? I'm not sure I was here quite early enough for the 'early' days :) but I don't see a huge difference ... I remember hearing about a major schism between those who liked the third season and those who didn't ... the ones who didn't pretty much all left, to my knowledge. If there was a split between fanfic and gossip I wasn't aware of it; there was basically only one list so everything went through the same channel. Now, we have more specialized lists and message boards (and the best damn fanfic archive on the Net ) so it's easier to stick to a subgroup. > *How is a FoLC different from other fans of TV shows? FOLCs are the nicest people, as a group, that I've ever met (we have Clark's reputation to live up to). Most of us go out of our way to be polite ... sometimes we may even go too far, which does stifle honest feedback on fanfic. And there have been the occasional public spats (our inner Lois coming out); I've been involved in a few of them. However, they die down pretty quickly. Right now, there's noticeable tension about the US presidental (non) election -- but everyone involved has tried to kept the discussion on the issues; I haven't seen any personal attacks or flames yet. Well, at least not towards each other, the candidates have been called names! :) I don't know if it's better to only abuse people who aren't here to defend themselves ;) ... but it does keep the discussion calmer than it would be in other circles. I also think we have better spelling And this is a subjective judgment, but I have found LNC fanfic to be of generally higher quality than fanfic I've read for other shows -- even before they go through the archive editing process, which improves things again. I doubt I've said anything quotable :) but if you want to, you can quote me and use my name. -- Pam Jernigan / ChiefPam / jernigan@bellsouth.net http://www.geocities.com/~chiefpam http://personal.rdu.bellsouth.net/~jernigan/ "I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." --Psalm 27:13-14 ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 11:31:34 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: Re: Research Question - What is a FoLC? MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit In a message dated 11/10/2000 8:42:52 AM Eastern Standard Time, jernigan@BELLSOUTH.NET writes: << (and the best damn fanfic archive on the Net ) >> Pam sure makes some nice statements. Surely opinionated -but opinionated in favor of FOLC. I don't think anyone would disagree. :) Other favorites: <<(our inner Lois coming out);>> <>> And even when writers don't spell well or when English isn't their first language, most are very willing to find beta readers and learn new words, new grammar rules, and the differences in the English we use in various parts of the world. FOLC come from an interesting diversity of geographical locations, professions and backgrounds, too. It's always fun to find out what someone does in 'real' life. --Laurie (who found out that Eileen occasionally visits quite close by as part of her work--and hopes she'll give some warning next time!) ========================================================================= Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 23:06:36 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: kubitc Subject: NEW: Metanoia (9/11) Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="ISO-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable TITLE: The Martha Chronicles 3: Metanoia PART: 9/11 AUTHOR: Christy Kubit (attalanta@aol.com) FEEDBACK: All comments are welcome, public or private. SUMMARY: In the third and (maybe) final part of the series, Martha returns home to attend to family problems and tries to maintain a long-distance relationship with Jonathan. NOTE: I tried several times to send this part out with my AOL address, but for some reason it refuses to send this message. So I'm trying with my other address, and hope this one works :) * * * * * "...And then I found out my mother was in the hospital, and I came back to Boston," I explained. It was Friday night and we were at dinner at Chez Nous, a restaurant I had been to several times with my family since it was one of my grandmother's favorites. When we'd arrived I wondered whether she had directed Gordon to Chez Nous, whether she had enmeshed herself *that* deeply into my date with Gordon, but he didn't mention it, and I didn't pursue it. I was out with Gordon to try to forget my problems, not to try to analyze them. Gordon nodded, then stabbed a stalk of broccoli with his fork and bit into it. I watched as he chewed slowly. He was wearing a dark suit, white shirt, and dark tie, nothing special but nothing ridiculous either. Pinned to his maroon tie was a small gold tie tack consisting of interlocking triangles, some type of Celtic crest, I knew from a seminar on Irish art I'd taken my senior year. "And your mother's doing better now, I take it?" Gordon asked after taking a sip from his wine glass. I nodded, swallowed. "Much better, though I'm not completely sure why," I admitted. "Sometimes," Gordon began, "sometimes all a person is doing is reaching out and asking for help. A lot of attempted suicide cases I've seen - the lucky ones, that is - turn out this way. Some people just need to be reassured that someone cares about them," he said with a grin. Then, "oh, gosh, I didn't'... I mean, were you thinking that your mother-? I mean, it wasn't mentioned to your family in the hospital-" "Oh, I know. Actually, Mother *told* me." "Whew, I'm glad. Not your mother tried- I mean, otherwise I just violated patient confidentiality-" "No, I've known ever since I talked to Grandmother on the phone from Kansas, but my family would barely even discuss it, and they surely didn't *agree* with me," I quickly assured him. "No, I knew. I'm just grateful you think the same thing. It was making me crazy that no one would discuss it, like they were all conspiring against me." "I don't think your family is unique in responding that way, Martha. Many families can't handle the thought that their loved one tried to kill himself, so they pretend it was an accident, or even pretend it didn't happen at all." I smiled at Gordon and we each took a bite of our dinners. I chewed contemplatively; Gordon's affirmation of my mother's suicide attempt was a welcome relief. I had known all along that it hadn't been an accident, but after hearing my mother's and grandmother's denials, I couldn't help but start to doubt my instincts. Then a realization dawned on me=85 "I'm sorry," I said suddenly. "You don't mind talking about my mother's case, do you? Or is it like bringing your work home with you?" "I don't mind," he assured me. "Because we've been talking about me all night," I said. "What about you?" A list of getting-to-know-you questions sped through my mind, implanted during my freshman orientation week at Bryn Mawr. But, thanks to Grandmother's detective work, I already knew the answers to many of them. I asked anyway. "Where are you from? Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Gordon impaled an anemic-looking carrot and another blossom of broccoli with his fork, then set it down on his plate. "Let's see... My family lives in Nashville. Serina, my sister, is in her third year at Vassar, and my brother, Robert, is a doctor, too. He and his wife live in Baltimore, where he has his practice." "Are the three of you close?" I asked. He nodded. "I think that was one of my parents' goals, to make sure we got along well. My father is an only child, so he spent his life wishing he had a brother or sister. When we were born, he decided that we would enjoy having siblings." "I can sympathize. I'm an only child, too; it wasn't so bad when I was younger. Nancy, our cook, and Joseph, Grandmother's driver, have a daughter the same age as I am, and we would play together. It was almost like having a sister, because their family lived in the same house, right downstairs. But after I went to college, Sophie, their daughter, got married and left Boston, so I don't see her often anymore. So now it's like I'm an only child again." "I wish I could see my brother and sister more often, too, but I suppose we're lucky at least to be in the same area of the country." I agreed with Gordon, but my mind slipped back to Jonathan, whose two older brothers, Richard and Jerome, had died during the Korean War. I thought Gordon was lucky that his sister and brother were alive, never mind in the same area of the country as he was. I couldn't believe I had been so careless on the phone with Jonathan as to suggest that his family had no problems. I knew better, but I was so focused on my own tragedies that my head might as well have been buried in the sand. I felt an old ache inside, left over from the cruel gossip about me and my parents that I'd encountered during my first visit to Smallville. If it had hurt that much to hear cruelties from strangers, how had it felt to hear them from a girlfriend, from the woman to whom you'd proposed marriage? "Martha?" I snapped back to the present and smiled guiltily at Gordon. "I'm sorry. What was it you were saying?" He gave me an odd look, but continued. "I was just saying that when I was younger I used to wish that my grandparents lived close by. How did you like growing up with your grandparents in the same house?" I resisted the thousand and one smart-aleck remarks that sprung to mind whenever I was asked about living with my grandparents. It was unlikely that Gordon would run into my grandmother again anytime soon, but just in case=85 "That's a tough question to answer. I mean, how would you react if I asked what it was like to grow up living with your parents? That was just the way my life was - still is, in a way - so it didn't seem unusual." Gordon nodded. "That makes sense," he said before draining his wine glass. And I hadn't been lying to Gordon. Living with my grandparents *did* constitute normal to me; it always had, and it always would. That was something that I did have in common with Jonathan, whose grandparents lived nearby, and who knew that he would always live nearby his parents, the grandparents of his own children. That thought made me feel more than a little light-headed, and I set down my fork and knife. Jonathan's children: surely they would be my children, too. * * * * * It was almost eleven o'clock by the time I got home from my date with Gordon. But instead of going inside the house and straight to bed, I sat down in one of the wrought-iron chairs on our patio. Even through my dress the metal was cool and pointed, sending a chill up my back. But I wanted to relax for a few minutes by myself, without the possibility of my grandmother - or anyone else - interrupting me to ask how the date had gone, because I didn't have it all completely straightened out myself yet. After Chez Nous, Gordon and I had dropped in at the opening of his neighbor's art exhibit in a small downtown gallery. Mostly abstract sculpture, it wasn't my favorite type of art - to be truthful, I didn't understand it - but it was nice to do something different. I'd almost forgotten how alive the city was at night; Gordon and I hadn't even planned to go to the exhibit, but he mentioned it on the way back to the car after dinner and we decided it might be worth checking out. It was the kind of spontaneous thing you could always find to do in a city. Strangely, it had made me think of Jonathan, thousands of miles away, on a small farm in Kansas. It wasn't that I wished I could be there with him - not exactly - but I did wish he was here with me. But I knew better than to wish for things I could never have. I forced myself to think again about Gordon, who had been very kind and moderately interesting that night. But, strangely enough, not once during the evening had I felt anything romantic between us, no little sparks of chemistry or nervous butterflies. Nothing. It was almost like going on a date with my brother, if I had had a brother. The situation was rather puzzling, since Gordon wasn't an unattractive man; he had dark hair and dark eyes, and unusually pale skin. During dinner we had commiserated for a while about our pale complexions forcing us to stay out of the sun in the summer, despite the fact that we enjoyed the beach. But that was all that had happened: a pleasant dinner and art exhibit, friendly conversation, and a very chaste goodnight kiss (on the cheek). Even that much felt like a betrayal; I knew of whom, but didn't exactly know why. After all, Jonathan had been the one to hang up on me. I figured that my date with Gordon had been some kind of partially subconscious test of my relationship with Jonathan. Furthermore, I guessed I had passed, because my feelings for Jonathan hadn't changed; I still loved him, and I was still angry with him. I was still stewing in my own feelings, simmering in a mix of hurt and love and resentment, when the back door opened and my mother came outside. Bundled up in her winter coat and her pajamas underneath, Mother smiled at me. "Mind if I join you?" I nodded and she sat down in the chair next to mine, so close I could smell the lavender toilet water she applied both to her body as a perfume and to her bed pillows as a soporific. When I was a child I used to sit on her bed, watching her get ready for a night out with Daddy. Before putting on her dress she would spritz herself with the scented water, then give me a tiny squirt. "How was your date?" she asked cautiously. A tide of anger, left over from thinking about my disagreement with Jonathan, crept over me, but I resisted it; I wasn't angry with Mother, just Jonathan. "How did you know?" "Your grandmother told me," she admitted. Of course: Grandmother. Unable to shake an upbringing that had drilled manners in me like they were multiplication tables, I had told her that I was going out that night. Just to be polite. And I hadn't told her whom with, but I had seen her face in an upstairs window as Gordon pulled his car out of our driveway. Never one to hide, she had the curtains pulled completely back and was standing, arms crossed, in the window, a sly grin on her face. "What did she say, exactly?" I asked her. "Not much. When I came downstairs after my nap I asked her where you were, and she told me you were out with Dr. Graves=85 You didn't let your grandmother set you up with my doctor, did you?" Mother asked with a wink. "Not intentionally, but I think I may have fallen into her trap," I admitted. Mother laughed. "So how was it?" "He brought me flowers" (an obscenely large bouquet of pink roses, to be precise) "and we went to dinner and an art gallery. Not so bad." "But not so good, either?" she asked. I sighed, exasperated, and dropped my head back onto the top rung of the chair. "I don't know," I admitted. "You don't know about Dr. Graves...? Or about someone else?" "How did you know that?!" "I may be crazy, but I'm not blind=85 or deaf. I know you talk to someone on the phone every few days. I remember what it was like to be in love, Martha," she said, and I wondered what exactly she remembered. From my view on the sidelines, her marriage to my father had seemed somehow deficient, never quite as loving or affectionate as my image of the perfect relationship. Both she and Daddy seemed to have held a bit of cool aloofness, going through the motions of a happy marriage to give a good impression, but never letting the happiness sink in all the way. "What do you remember?" I asked her. She smiled and took my hand, holding it on the armrest between us. "Before he got sick, your father and I traveled a lot. Once he came home from work and asked what I wanted to do for the weekend. It was December, freezing cold outside, and as a lark I told him I wanted to go to the beach. He laughed and left the room. He came back fifteen minutes later and told me to pack, that we were going to the beach!" "He did? Where did you go?" "Well, we got in the car and drove down the coast until we got to a beach where it was warm enough to swim. We stayed for a few days, and then drove back home. We didn't tell anyone where we were going, and we didn't have an itinerary, so we slept until noon, had brunch, and then swam and sun-bathed all afternoon. After dinner we went for walks on the beach=85 It was a very special weekend," she reminisced dreamily. "What else?" "Hmm, well, we used to dress for dinner every night, your father in a suit and tie, or even a tuxedo. I would wear an evening dress, and we ate by candlelight, pretending we were in a restaurant. We played records, piano concerti mostly: Chopin, Mozart; your father's favorite was Beethoven's Pathetique Sonata. We happened to be in Baltimore one weekend and got to hear the debut of Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini. Your father fell in love, and he took up the piano immediately upon our return to Boston. That's why you took lessons, too; he insisted his daughter would learn to love good music." I felt as if Mother had given me a precious gift. Since my father died, she had kept most of her memories of him locked away where none of us could reach, maybe her included. I wanted to thank her, to beg for more, but didn't want to upset the precarious balance that had developed between us. "This is nice, sharing these memories with you," she said as if she was reading my mind, "I wasted so much time," she said, her voice rising in frustration. "I was afraid to say his name, maybe to admit that he was really gone; I don't know. And I should have, I should have told you all these things before, so you can imagine more than just a man so sick he couldn't get out of bed." "Mother, it's okay-" "No, it's absolutely *not* okay," she insisted. "I'm so sorry, Martha. You had already lost your father, and I refused to share my memories of him, and then robbed you of your mother, too." She squeezed my hand. "What do you want to know?" I could scarcely believe my good fortune. Not only was my mother opening up, but she was volunteering to tell me anything I wanted to know! This was the opportunity I had been waiting for. "Tell me about yours and Daddy's marriage," I said in a whisper. She turned to me, puzzled. "What do you mean?" I took a deep breath. "Jonathan asked me to marry him," I said in one breath. Mother sat up straight in her chair and clutched my hand. "And what did you say?" She seemed excited. "I said no. It's such a big decision. I told him I needed more time to think about it, but I think I'm just scared, Mama. What if I can't do it? What if I don't love him enough? What if one day he stops loving *me*? I don't know if I'd make a good wife." She smiled gently, then put her arm around me. "I think you would make a fine wife," she assured me. "Marriage doesn't turn you into a different person, Martha; you're just choosing to share your life with someone else. That's all." "But that's *not* all," I insisted. "Jonathan lives on a farm with his parents, who are wonderful, but I would have to live there, too. I don't think I'd miss Boston - except for you - but running a farm is a lot of work, and it's not exactly something I have experience with. *Marriage* is a lot of work," I bemoaned and Mother rubbed my shoulder in comfort. "You'd be surprised how much more you love someone after years of marriage than you did in the beginning. Marriage doesn't have to be like a rubber band that breaks when you stretch it too far. You talk and work things out, and life goes on. I can only speak from my own experience," she said, "but I loved being married to your father. I loved every minute of it, the fights, the sickness, all of it. I wouldn't trade our nineteen years of marriage for anything." We sat in silence for another half hour, our breaths rising in front of us like puffs of smoke, disappearing into the crisp air. Mother discovered an old pair of gloves in the pockets of coat and we shared them, her ungloved hand holding mine, the sleeves of our coats pulled down onto our hands. What I felt went beyond reassurance, beyond comfort, like slipping into a warm bath or nursing a bowl of hot oatmeal on a cold morning. It wasn't an assurance that everything would be okay, because both Mother and I knew that she could not, that no one could, make such assurances. But it was as if a veil of confusion had been lifted, and I could finally see. The sins of the father *weren't* necessarily revisited on the son=85 or the daughter; my marriage (if Jonathan would still have me) would be mine, not some echo of my parents' or grandparents'. I was half-amazed at what few words of my mother's it had taken to make me see. * * * * * I decided that night that I would wait until the next morning to call Jonathan; it was eleven o'clock in Kansas, already far past the bedtime of the Kent household. So of course I was too excited to fall asleep that night. The prospect of settling things with Jonathan loomed large over my head. Instead, I squirmed and turned all night, checking the time on my alarm clock every forty-five minutes. After trying unsuccessfully to sleep for nearly three hours, I scooted down to the foot of bed. I gazed out my window, warming my feet by resting them on the large radiator coiled like a snake in front of my window. Outside it was cold and bare, the wind pounding around trees and telephone poles, howling as it passed through the tiny fractures and fissures of our house. Past the stone ledge outside my window I could see, dimly lit by a nearby street lamp, that it was snowing outside. Tiny glittery pinpricks of snow were illuminated in the stream of light from the lamp. They appeared to be not falling but stationary, one lustrous glowing ray. And over the roof of our porch, through the trees that had lost all leaves, stood a couple, huddled together under the street lamp mounted on our neighbor's tree lawn. Through the darkness and distance I couldn't tell who or how old they were, but I could tell they were in love. They stood, pressed together, one's hands in the other's coat pockets. The woman dropped her head back and laughed, and the large puffball adorning the bottom of her stocking cap bounced against her back. Their breath rose, puffed into the air above them, joined into one cloud, and faded away. After absorbing another moment of warmth from the radiator, I laid back onto my bed. With the curtains open and my elbows propped on a pillow, I could still see the couple clutching each other in the glow of the lamp. I watched them together, holding, cuddling, guarding against the cold and snow. And there they stood for over an hour, unmoving and almost frozen together. When they walked away, I searched for the moon and found it to be full and luminous, but partially obscured by clouds. I looked up, up into the atmosphere and beyond, but could not make out any constellations. I almost found the bow of Orion but a cloud passed by, blocked it. Sighing, I laid back in my bed, faced away from my window. I crowded against my wall, gathering my sheets and quilt around me. I was filled with warmth and affection, and I fell asleep. * * * * * To be continued in part 10 ========================================================================= Date: Sat, 11 Nov 2000 13:08:40 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Rich and Dawn Subject: Message Board Index Update through November 10 MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Hi FoLCs! Check out http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Meteor/7378/lnc.html for stories posted to Zoom's message board through November 10. New part(s) posted: FAUX PAS: WENDY RICHARDS HEARTS AND DIAMONDS: SHAYNET (AKA SHAYNE TERRY) HOME III: MEMORIES: NAN SMITH PERSONAL LOYALTIES: LEUCH (AKA CINDY LEUCH) THE MARTHA CHRONICLES III: ATTALANTA (AKA CHRISTY KUBIT) WEDNESDAY'S CHILD: BBIGI398 Completed stories this week: none New stories this week: AN HOUR IN VERONA AUTHOR UNKNOWN AN INNOCENT MAN: KESHANDRA ARE YOU LONESOME TONIGHT...? LABRAT SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE: ALICIA U STRANGERS II: WHEN TWO HEARTS COLLIDE RAGGIEMOM (AKA MISSY) Added to the Archive this week: Professional Loyalties C. Leuch Reader, I Married Him Wendy Richards and Tank Wilson Tryst Pam Jernigan Enjoy! The Index Crew ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2000 20:42:16 +0400 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Tim & Gaylene Devlin Subject: Re: Research Question - What is a FoLC? In-Reply-To: <3A0BFB2B.79BF40F2@bellsouth.net> MIME-version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed Hey Pam, Thanks a lot for responding to the research questions I posted to the List a few days back though I'm not sure whether to feel honored or insulted that for you I came in ahead of the US election kerfuffle! Anyway your responses were of the kind I 'd hoped the questions would generate. Clearly from yours and all the private responses I got it would seem that being a FoLC means different things to different people, often very different things. But I guess this is not unexpected given the diversity of the membership in all the different areas of FoLCdom. I was particularly interested in your comment < I think Internet involvement is key. You can be a fan on your own, but to really be a FOLC you have to be part of the community, which is largely found online.> That was not an aspect that others had referred to in quite that way though a number did mention how the Internet has certainly facilitated interaction amongst fans. I would be interested to know if other people feel that Internet involvement defines a FOLC. You also mentioned the different interest groups within FoLCdom. This different focus of FoLCs was very evident, I thought, at LAFF 2000 with the group being very inclusive yet still catering for individual tastes. From all the responses to date one thread is coming through loud and clear -- that for everyone being a FoLC is a very positive experience and even a very supportive one in times of personal need. I would be very happy to read further responses to 'what it means to be a FoLC' and to the comments raised by Pam in her post. And to those who wrote to me individually who have yet to receive a reply, rest assured it is top of my 'to do' list this weekend (Thursday and Friday in this part of the world). Gay ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2000 12:51:01 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Wendy Richards Subject: Re: Research Question - What is a FoLC? Hi Gay! Yes, this is indeed a very interesting question. Oh, and first - good luck with your PhD! It can be a long, hard slog, but as long as you're researching something which fascinates you - and I assume that L&C does - you should enjoy it. Do please let us all know the eventual outcome, and some of your findings, if you can! And, no matter how long and how difficult it seems, you'll think it's all been worth it on that day when you finally have your bound copy in your hands, with your name in gold lettering down the spine. :) Pam's right: Lois and Clark is not unique in its ongoing fandom. There are a number of cancelled TV programmes which still have active fandoms: Starksy and Hutch from the late 70s/early 80s, for example, still has an active following and there are many websites out there; fanfic is still being written. Likewise, Beauty and the Beast, from (I think) the early 80s, also has active sites and new fanfic. I'm sure there are more; these just happen to be the ones I know about. ST is a little different, since films were still being made with the original cast until quite recently. > >> *What are the characteristics of a FoLC? I'm not sure I can answer this question in a general sense, but perhaps if I tell you something about my own experience that could help. Lois and Clark:TNAOS is the first TV series which inspired me, in so many ways. At the end of S2, as soon as ATAI had ended on TV, I went straight up to the study and did an Internet search on the series. That was the first time I have ever searched for a TV series I like on the Internet. It's not the first time I've enjoyed a TV series so much that I wanted to do something beyond watching the episodes: I bought most of the Starsky and Hutch novels years ago, and I also bought all the Casualty books (UK TV series, similar in some ways to ER). But it was Lois and CLark which sent me to the Internet. It was also Lois and Clark which made me try fanfic. I'd never before encountered the phenomenon of people writing stories about their favourite TV programmes or whatever; but I discovered the Fanfic Archive and other sites, devoured what was available, and then finally, in around February 1998 (eight or ten months after the last episode was broadcast over here in the UK) decided to try my hand at writing. And, these days, fanfic is what being a FoLC means to me. I think Pam's quite right: there is a pretty distinct split between those whose interest, now that the series is no more, lies in fanfic, and those whose interest is in following the lead actors in their new projects and to gossip. These two areas are not mutually exclusive: there are people who enjoy both equally. But in many ways, and especially on IRC, it's very noticeable. What it's meant for me is that the vast majority of my online friends now are either fanfic writers or keen readers of fanfic. I'm less interested in the actors as in the characters; I far prefer Clark Kent to Dean Cain, for example. Oh, and to echo something else Pam said, I cannot believe that I would have been such a fan were it not for the Internet. I'd have watched the series, bought those videos which were available for purchase, and taped the other episodes if I could. But I wouldn't have written any stories based on the series, partly because I never knew that such a thing was commonplace before finding FoLC on the Internet, and also partly because, with the Internet, I know I can find a readership for the stories I write. I'd never heard of pen-and-paper zines either, and it is very unlikely that I would have come across such things. So, without the Internet, I would not now be inflicting my stories on poor unsuspecting FoLC across the globe... Oh, and thanks to the Internet I have tapes of a number of episodes I missed or didn't record the first time they were screened (and when they were repeated over here they were cut to ribbons) - many thanks there to the generosity of JennyM, PhilA and another UK FoLC. And, speaking of 'across the globe', my interest in Lois and Clark has given me a huge number of new friends. Some of them I've met - several based in the UK, for example, and others based elsewhere. Irene D stands out here: she and her husband were so kind and generous with their time and their hospitality when my husband and I visited Canada earlier this year; it was also great to meet KathyB and KarenW. I have other people whom I consider friend as far apart as the USA, France, Germany, Italy, Israel and elsewhere - these friendships are also a major part of what I consider being a FoLC to be. And none of this could have existed without the Internet. >> *Is there a difference between the FoLCs of the 'early days' and 'now'? This I can't answer; although I first discovered the on-line fandom between S2 and S3, I didn't stay on the email lists because episodes were broadcast in the US before they were shown in the UK, and so there were far too many spoilers for my liking. I only became active, as opposed to lurking around fanfic and other websites, around the end of S4. >> *How is a FoLC different from other fans of TV shows? Not having been involved in other fandoms, I can't say too much about this. I will echo Pam in her comments about the Archive; we edit every story which comes to us, and I've noticed a disctinct lack of editing in some other fandoms' stories. The other big difference seems, to me, to be that we *have* one central fanfic archive (www.lcfanfic.com), and one nfic archive where most nfic ends up (http://move.to/nfic); there are other sources of fic, of course, but I'd guess that more than 90% of what's out there (slash aside, and there doesn't seem to be a lot of that) ends up on one or other of these sites. In other fandoms, there are a multitude of sites for fic, making it harder for fans to find what's out there. I think we're generally a very friendly and helpful crowd. As far as I know, fans without copies of particular episodes only have to ask, and they immediately receive several offers of help. FoLC are very generous with their time and equipment. I've hardly ever seen any signs of elitism in the three or four years I've been actively involved. The same goes in relation to fanfic: people readily volunteer to beta-read, to edit, and in general to comment on posted stories - the message boards, in particular, are a wonderful source of useful criticism. And there are those who give up vast amounts of their time to run the annual award ceremonies for fanfic. FoLC are also generous with their money: there are many fans who run high- demand websites and fund them entirely from their own pockets - Zoom, Anne Ciotola, Demi, Andrea, Lauren, to name but a few. When appeals are made for cash, to support the Fanfic Archive, or for a disabled FoLC, for instance, from what I've seen the response has been generous. And, even in spite of the apparent split in interests, it seems to me that FOLCdom does not seem to attract the same number or degree of flame wars and splits as I've heard other fandoms do. We have our spats from time to time; but that's in the nature of things. In general, though, I think one thing we do seem to be good at is making up again afterwards. :) Anyway, Gay, this may be more than you need, or it may seem to be rambling away from the point; however, if any of it is helpful, do feel free to use it, and to quote me if necessary. And again, good luck! :) Wendy --------------- Wendy Richards wendy@kingsmeadowcr.freeserve.co.uk ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2000 17:48:26 -0000 Reply-To: Yvonne Connell Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Yvonne Connell Subject: Re: Research Question - What is a FoLC? MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Well, since you asked for more responses, I'll have a go. > *What are the characteristics of a FoLC? It's impossible to generalise, but I will anyway . Usually, we're female (apologies to Phil, Shayne, Jeff, Ray, and all you other guys out there ), and generally, I'd say FoLCs, male or female, are a pretty intelligent, knowledgeable bunch of people. Ask this list any factual question you like, and you'll almost certainly get the answer - the one which comes to mind recently is Karen, who wanted (I think) to know the average weight of a Siberian tiger. I think she received at least two correct responses! We also appear to have a high incidence of students, teachers, and lecturers within our numbers. Finally, we're friendly, very caring at a personal level, and often have a strong social conscience. > *Is there a difference between the FoLCs of the 'early days' and 'now'? I wasn't around in the early days, so can't answer this one. > *How is a FoLC different from other fans of TV shows? I'm not a member of any other fandoms, but from what I've heard from others who are, we seem to be a more harmonious bunch of people than the norm. Other fandoms may want to hit me over the head with a large frying pan for suggesting this, but I'd also guess that we're more sociable: we want to, and do, meet each other face to face if it's at all possible. To put it another way, maybe we're less nerdy and/or anoraky than some other fandoms. /me ducks... Nothing very original or insightful, but it's the best I can do :) I can't imagine that you'd want to quote me on any of this, but feel free to do so if you wish. Yvonne (yvonne@yconnell.fsnet.co.uk) ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2000 14:00:02 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: NEW: Metanoia (10/11) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="UTF-8" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable TITLE: The Martha Chronicles 3: Metanoia PART: 10/11 AUTHOR: Christy Kubit (attalanta@aol.com) FEEDBACK: All comments are welcome, public or private. SUMMARY: In the third and (maybe) final part of the series, Martha returns=20 home to attend to family problems and tries to maintain a long-distance=20 relationship with Jonathan. * * * * * When I woke up the light was streaming through my unclosed curtains and onto= =20 my face. I slid to the bottom of my bed and sat up, again leaning my feet=20 against the intense warmth of the radiator. Of course the couple was no longer outside. But I was puzzled to see that it= =20 had stopped snowing, and there was no accumulation apparent. Or maybe it had= =20 never been snowing. Maybe I had dreamed that scene of the previous night, th= e=20 flecks of white falling, the couple standing together under the street lamp. I stepped into my slippers, which I had left on the floor next to my bed, an= d=20 slipped on my robe. Checking the clock, I stole away into my grandfather's=20 study, which was right next to my bedroom. I didn't need my address book; I=20 knew the number by heart. As I dialed, I could feel and hear my heart=20 beating, pounding along with the clicks as the rotor reset itself. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and I set my hand on my chest to=20 calm myself. "Hello?" It was Anna. My voice caught in my throat at the sound, but then fell back.=20 No need to worry; it wasn't Jonathan yet, just his mother. "Hello, Anna, it's Martha." Silence for a minute, then, "Martha, hello. How are you doing, dear?" "Good. How are you?" "Oh, we're all fine here," Anna said. "How is your mother doing?" "She's much better, thanks. Maybe Jonathan's told you, but she's been home=20 from the hospital for a while now, and it seems as though she's really=20 getting well. It's like having a whole new mother!" "That's wonderful, dear." "Anna, I don't mean to be rude, but is Jonathan there? Can I talk to=20 Jonathan?" Another long minute of silence. "Well," Anna said slowly, "he isn't in right= =20 now. I can give him a message for you, though, if you like." I sighed and my body relaxed, my back slumping into the plush velvet chair.=20 The pressure was off - for now - but what message to give? "Sure, can you=20 tell him I called?" "Anything else?" Trite phrases whizzed through my head: I love you, I miss you, I'm sorry. "No, I'll try him again later. When do you expect him to be back?" "Well=E2=80=A6 I'm not sure about that. He's, uh, he's gone camping with Way= ne and=20 Henry, Martha." "In this cold?" "Yes, well, snow camping, you know," she explained. "Okay," I said, confused. Since when did Jonathan and his friends go snow=20 camping? Usually when they went camping their favorite activity was fishing,= =20 which I imagined would be quite difficult if the pond was frozen over. "Sorry about that, Martha," Anna said. "It's okay. I'll try back another day." "Okay, bye, Martha." "Good-bye," I said and hung up the phone. I was frustrated. I didn't know how long I could go on feeling this way, lik= e=20 I was so full of feeling that I could burst if I didn't talk to Jonathan=20 soon. I needed to straighten things out between us, or I needed to at least=20 tell someone my decision; I had to share this monstrous problem or it was=20 going to consume me. * * * * * Again that night I got home late, this time from Sophie's house. I had neede= d=20 to talk to someone, to calm myself down after getting worked up to talk to=20 Jonathan on the phone and getting Anna instead. Sophie knew more than anyone= =20 else about the situation and was an unexpectedly good listener besides. Plus= ,=20 I didn't want to burden my mother with my problems any more than necessary.=20 Besides, talking to Sophie could give me a fresh perspective; maybe she woul= d=20 have different advice than my mother had. So I took my time in getting ready in the morning, showering, eating=20 breakfast, and reading the Globe with a necessary measure of calmness. I=20 waited, dallying around the house until it was a late enough hour to phone=20 Sophie and ask if I could come over to talk. And she had been helpful, more in simply listening than in offering any=20 advice. By then I was at the point where I didn't think I needed any more=20 advice anyway. I knew what I wanted; I just had to wait to talk to Jonathan=20 first. I stayed at Sophie's longer than I had expected. Walter had a day off from=20 work, so I met him and the three of us went out to dinner, leaving Paul at=20 home with a babysitter. Surprisingly, there were several nice restaurants in= =20 the Big Creek area, despite its distance from the city. We chose one and=20 stayed for hours, talking over a bottle of wine and a four course meal. Despite Walter's age, we got along swimmingly; Sophie was right in her=20 earlier assessment of the situation. Walter seemed to suit her like a=20 custom-made shoe, in personality, taste, and, surprisingly, maturity. He was= =20 quieter than Sophie, but, then again, who wasn't? I actually saw a small bit= =20 of resemblance between Walter and Jonathan, despite the two men's varied=20 backgrounds. So I'm sure that similarity, and the fact that I missed and needed=20 desperately to talk to Jonathan, delayed me in returning home that night. Bu= t=20 when I finally did pull my mother's Cadillac into the garage at nine o'clock= =20 that night, several lights were still burning downstairs, along with the=20 upstairs bedroom lights. Especially notable were the lights in our music=20 room, which was in the front of the house. Odd, I thought, because the music= =20 room had mostly been my father's territory. It was where he kept his piano=20 and phonograph, and bookcases of sheet music and records, as well as books o= n=20 his favorite composers and pianists. Not wanting to disturb whoever was in the music room, I entered in the back,= =20 through the kitchen. Attached to the small cork board we kept near the phone= =20 for messages were two small pieces of paper with my name on them.=20 Gordon called, 11:30. Call him back, said the first in my mother's=20 handwriting. Gordon called, 4:00. Would you like to have dinner? read the=20 second, in Nancy's writing. Well, too late to return his call now, I thought= ,=20 tentatively remembering that he had the night shift at the hospital that=20 night. I peered around the corner of the kitchen, where I could see my grandfather=20 sitting in an armchair in the adjacent dining room. Open in front of him was= =20 a book, but he was, once again, asleep, his head leaning heavily against the= =20 curved side of the chair. I smiled as I approached him, caught in a mixture between sadness that=20 everyone had gone upstairs for the night and left him down here alone, and=20 guilt that he had (most likely) stayed up to wait for me, and a secure=20 happiness that he cared enough to wait for me. Reluctant to wake him out of what seemed to be a sound sleep, I instead=20 removed a warm quilt from the hall closet and carefully laid it over him. Bu= t=20 he awoke with a start as the blanket touched his legs. "Martha," he said with a grin. "Are you home already?" he asked, checking th= e=20 grandfather clock on the opposite wall. I laughed. "I'm sorry I was so late," I said. "I was at Sophie's house and w= e=20 went to dinner and talked all night=E2=80=A6" "Oh, I don't mind, dear. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay." "Thanks, Grandfather," I said, kissing him on the cheek. "Are you coming up=20 to bed?" "Yes, bed," he said absently, placing a marker in his book as I returned the= =20 blanket to the closet. "I saw a light in the music room as I pulled in the driveway. Is someone els= e=20 down here, or should we shut off those lights, too?" "Oh, dear, the music room! Yes! I almost forgot, Martha; you have a visitor.= " "A visitor?" "Yes, a young man. He told me his name, but I can't seem to recall=E2=80=A6" "That's all right, Grandfather." I was fairly sure it was Gordon, anyway. I=20 hadn't called him after our date last night, and he seemed quite impatient=20 that we get together again sometime soon. I guessed he was afraid I would=20 return to Kansas without telling him. Though it was odd that he would wait=20 around in our music room, when he could simply have waited for me to phone=20 him back. Maybe he wasn't on duty at the hospital tonight after all=E2=80= =A6 The door to the music room was open, and the light streaming out of it=20 illuminated the shiny parquet of the hall floor. As I tread softly through=20 the carpeted dining and living rooms I could see a dark-haired head resting=20 against the back of an armchair in the music room. My heels clicked against=20 the floor when I reached the hall and the head turned around. It was Jonathan. He stood, smiling, as he waited for me to come to him. I=20 supposed he was nervous that I was still angry at his coldness over the phon= e=20 the other day. I wasn't. I ran through the hall and into the music room and=20 into Jonathan's arms. He held me and we just stood there, unmoving, savoring the moment and each=20 other. Jonathan pulled away first. "Martha, I'm so sorry," he said all at once. "I wasn't thinking. How could I= =20 know how difficult it was to have to take care of your mother and deal with=20 your family? I was insensitive, stupid-" "No, it was me," I insisted. "It was all I talked about, how frustrating it=20 was, how worried I was about my mother. I should've given you a chance to sa= y=20 something. I shouldn't have left everything like that, abandoning you after=20= I=20 said no to your proposal. I was just so confused-" "No, it's not your fault," he argued, stepping away and calming his cadence=20 and tone. "I shouldn't have expected an answer so fast. I understand now tha= t=20 you need time. Marriage is a big decision, and I don't want to rush you into= =20 anything. I'll just wait, however long it takes; I'll be waiting." "Thank you," I said, falling back into his arms. This time he took my face i= n=20 his hands and we kissed, long and longingly, not wanting to let go. * * * * * To be completed in Part 11 ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2000 14:02:24 EST Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: No Name Available Subject: NEW: Metanoia (11/11) FINAL MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="UTF-8" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable ITLE: The Martha Chronicles 3: Metanoia PART: 1/10 AUTHOR: Christy Kubit (attalanta@aol.com) FEEDBACK: All comments are welcome, public or private. SUMMARY: In the third and (maybe) final part of the series, Martha returns=20 home to attend to family problems and tries to maintain a long-distance=20 relationship with Jonathan. * * * * * EPILOGUE "But where are we going?" I asked Jonathan, laughing as he led me away from=20 the farmhouse and through the woods. "Jonathan?" "You'll see," was his cryptic answer. If this were anyone else, I thought, I would've recovered my hand from his=20 grip and marched myself right back into the house long ago, but I trusted=20 Jonathan, and followed him through the trees. It was warm for March; the snow had come early and often this year, and=20 weather forecasters were predicting that the spring would be unseasonably=20 warm. Jonathan and I had been back in Kansas for several weeks after a=20 whirlwind tour of Boston. I had introduced him to the city as well as my=20 family. As expected, he received a chilly reception from my grandmother, who= =20 I believe was still mourning the death of my non-relationship with Dr.=20 Graves. But the rest of my family (including Sophie, Nancy, and Joseph)=20 adored Jonathan and understood my decision to return to Kansas with him. On the relationship front Jonathan and I had decided to give ourselves some=20 time. We were still together, but we hadn't become engaged=E2=80=A6 not yet,= at=20 least. But we talked about it every day, discussing our wedding (I wanted it= =20 to be in Smallville rather than Boston), where we would live (we were leanin= g=20 towards remaining on the Kent farm, but were considering building our own=20 house on the property), and the vague, ontological question of what it would= =20 like to be married. Finally we arrived at a small but beautiful pond guarded by large, dark=20 trees, whose barren branches formed a spidery canopy over the water. This=20 pond must be really beautiful in the heart of spring, I thought, imaging the= =20 canopy green with fresh foliage instead of brown with thin, twiggy branches.= =20 "Here we are," Jonathan announced when we reached the border of the pond.=20 "Isn't this beautiful? It's called the Wishing Pond." "Wishing Pond?"=20 "Because the stones in it are round and flat," he began, and I noticed for=20 the first time that the floor of the pond was lined by stones, small and=20 round and clearly visible through the pristine water. I bent and plucked two= =20 from the bottom of a shallow part of the pond, their small, wet flatness col= d=20 on my hand. "Like pennies," I marveled, closing my hand over the stones, which were the=20 same size and even the same brownish-red color of real pennies. We strolled the small perimeter of the pond while I repeatedly skipped my=20 stones into the water and exchanged them for two new ones, which were still=20 cool from the water. Every new stone I found was more round, smaller, more=20 like a perfect copper penny. "I've never been here before," I said, surprised since, after being in=20 Smallville for several months on three different occasions, I thought I'd=20 seen everything on the Kents' farm. "I was hoping you hadn't," he answered with a grin. "Even though you've been= =20 back for a while now, things with the farm have been busy. I wanted to=20 welcome you back to Smallville..." his voice trailed off. "Back home," I supplied before leaning towards Jonathan and kissing him,=20 sweetly but quickly, on his surprised lips. He craned his neck, bringing his= =20 head towards mine for another kiss, but I suddenly let go of his hand and=20 took a few steps away. Bending down, I exchanged the now-warm stones in my palm once again, this=20 time finding two perfect, penny-shaped ones to replace them with. I handed=20 one to Jonathan. "Make a wish," I suggested before looking long and hard at the "penny" in my= =20 hand and flinging it into the Wishing Pond. Jonathan hesitated for a minute,= =20 jiggling the stone in his hand as he thought of a wish, then followed my lea= d=20 and skipped his "penny" along the surface of the water, sending it to the=20 bottom of the pond with mine. "So what'd you wish for?" I asked Jonathan, gently taking his hand as we=20 recommenced our stroll around the pond. "I can't tell you that," he said, acting appalled but grinning. "Why not?" "Because if I tell you then it'll never come true," he reminded me. "Like=20 when you blow out the candles on your birthday cake." "That's silly," I insisted. "I think you *should* share your wishes with=20 people; maybe they could even help you make them come true." Jonathan nodded= ,=20 but remained apparently unconvinced. "Wanna know what I wished for?" "Only if you want to tell me," he said safely. I grinned; he knew just what=20 to say, didn't he? "And only if you're sure telling me won't jinx it." I shook my head and took a deep breath. "Telling you won't jinx it. Actually= ,=20 it should help it along," I said cryptically, and Jonathan stared at me,=20 uncomprehending, as I took both of his large hands in both of my small ones. "My wish," I began, braving the mud to sink down onto one knee, "is for you=20 to marry me and for us to be happy together, forever," I said, surprised tha= t=20 my voice wasn't shaking. I looked up at Jonathan expectantly, and smiled at=20 his surprise. "Martha, what are you=E2=80=A6? Are you asking me to=E2=80=A6?" he stuttered= . "I'm asking you to marry me, Jonathan Kent." I bit my lip as I watched his=20 face change from wide-eyed and unaware to a cognizant grin. He slipped his=20 hands up my arms to beneath my shoulders, picked me up from my knee, and=20 swung me around him in the air. I grinned when he finally put me down and I= =20 noticed the blissful look on his face. "Is that a 'yes?'" I asked uncertainly, but smiling. "Oh," he said, realizing he hadn't given me a real answer. "Oh, yes, that's=20= a=20 'yes,'" he clarified, "a definite 'yes.'" He pulled me closer to him but I=20 initiated the kiss, secure in the knowledge that I was right where I=20 belonged. Right at home. * * * * * The old woman opened her eyes and glanced over at her granddaughter, now=20 sprawled across the couch, asleep. Knowing there was no chance she or her=20 husband could carry the girl to bed, she instead removed the quilt from the=20 back of the couch and covered her, then gently kissed her good-night. Lost in the past as she told the story, Martha was unsure how much of it her= =20 granddaughter had heard, but she knew that the teenager was quite familiar=20 with its plot; her falling asleep had been a reflection of the exhaustion=20 brought on by chronic insomnia, not Martha's story-telling abilities. Martha flipped the light switch on the wall, bathing the room in darkness,=20 and slowly tiptoed up the stairs. When she reached the landing she glanced=20 back at her sleeping granddaughter, still recovering from her jolt into the=20 present. Then she heard the lonely echo of two solitary hands clapping and=20 opened her eyes in surprise. "Great story," the owner of the hands complimented her with a grin. Martha smiled, and stepped into the hallway where the man was standing. "Gla= d=20 you liked it," she replied as she fit snugly under his arm. Suddenly she=20 realized something. "Hey, you never told me what you wished for!" she=20 exclaimed, turning to face him. Jonathan Kent grinned at his wife. "I told you then=E2=80=A6" "I know, I know," she sighed, "if you tell me it won't come true. Mine came=20 true and I told you," she reminded him, but he simply smiled and headed=20 downstairs. Martha grinned at his back, straightened the cross-stitch=20 sampler, whose message "Home Is Where The Heart Is" was hanging crooked on=20 the wall, and followed her husband downstairs. * * * * * * * * * * Author's Note: I've always been interested in knowing more about Clark's=20 parents, especially Martha, and this has been my way to give background to=20 their characters.=20 I have always been bothered by a line in Ides of Metropolis where Martha=20 tells Jonathan that he was the first man she'd kissed. I felt that conflicte= d=20 with Martha's character, but I didn't think she'd lie about it just to strok= e=20 her husband's ego. I knew there had to be an explanation, and this is mine.=20 Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it - all comments are appreciated. Two documentaries were invaluable to me as I wrote this story. Deep Blue:=20 Depression (obviously) profiles three people who have struggled with=20 depression. I based Big Creek on Levittown, NY, the subject of the=20 documentary Wonderland, which described the building, heyday, and current=20 issues of the Long Island suburb. Finally, I want to thank my beta readers and proofers. From the beginning I=20 knew that this story would be a long one, but I had no idea just how long=20 until I finished it. First I want to thank Gay, Nancy, Margaret, Nicole, Liz= ,=20 Irene, and everyone else who read drafts of this series, including the folcs= =20 on the MBs. And I'd like to say a big thank you to Debby. Without Debby's=20 help, this story would be nowhere near what it is now, and I thank her for=20 teaching me about writing. ========================================================================= Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2000 15:19:03 -0500 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Pam Jernigan Organization: http://www.geocities.com/~chiefpam/ Subject: Re: Research Question - What is a FoLC? MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Hi Gay, > Thanks a lot for responding to the research questions I posted to the List > a few days back though I'm not sure whether to feel honored or insulted > that for you I came in ahead of the US election kerfuffle! Well, actualy, I've been kinda consumed by the election chaos, refreshing webistes every ten minutes, having the all-news channels on, etc ... but the uncertainty was making me just a tad cranky (as I'm sure no one noticed :D) so I was happy for a chance to focus on something much more fun, like FOLCdom. Besides, it was worth it to see the following, from Wendy Richards: > Pam's right > I think Pam's quite right > to echo something else Pam said > I will echo Pam I know she and I tend to agree on FOLC issues, so this was no surprise, but we disagree, sometimes vociferously, on some other issues, so I'm just amused by these (completely out of context) quotes (Love ya, Wendy!) But to get back to business... > From all the responses to date one thread is coming through loud and clear > -- that for everyone being a FoLC is a very positive experience and even a > very supportive one in times of personal need. Definitely true in my case. I've met a number of FOLCs in real life, and so far I've liked them all :) I met my very best friend online, in fact -- and I think that's significant because if it hadn't been for LNC, we would probably have never met, since we're at very different stages of life (I have a son in preschool, her daughter is a freshman in college) -- even if we had met, we very likely wouldn't have talked long enough to realize how very much we *do* have in common. That was a valuable reminder to me, not to judge people by their exteriors. Moving on to Wendy's comments: > ST is a little different, since > films were still being made with the original cast until quite recently. True, these days. But the fans kept the spirit alive for a decade or so, from when the original show stopped production until the first movie was made -- without those dedicated fans, there would never have been movies or the three spin-off series. Not that I think anyone should expect a repeat performance in other fandoms, but it is rather inspiring. Since we're sharing personal experiences ... I was already an online fan when I became hooked on LNC -- prior to that I was a very active member of the Babylon 5 and Blake's 7 message boards on CompuServe (sort of a subsection of the Internet, like AOL only much smaller), so when I caught part of an episode and had to find out more, I knew exactly where to go. I was active on CServe for a few years before that finally died and I moved out to the Internet proper (IRC and listserv). And I had written fanfic for paper zines, back in 1990 ... it was so exciting to see my work in print, but the downside was that I never received a word of reader feedback. When I read LNC fanfic, I felt an obligation to repay those wonderful authors for their hard work ... so I brushed off my rusty writing skills and dove in. A few pieces of positive feedback, and I was hooked FOLCs on IRC have helped me keep my sanity when my babies were fussy at 2am. They've listened to me gripe about my in-laws. And I've tried to return the favor. > I cannot believe that I would have > been such a fan were it not for the Internet. I know I wouldn't have been. Heck, if it hadn't been for support from my local FOLC friends, I probably would have dropped the show during the non-wedding ARRGH. I had to drive to Chris's house to watch Forget Me Not, because I'd heard spoilers, and I knew the ending was gonna kill me; we immediately wrote a revenge fic to cheer us up (RIP Tommy Crooner, for those who remember it, I think it's on my website). Anyway, I can't tell you the last time I watched a whole episode. But I read fanfic almost every day, and I'm still writing the stuff when I can -- that's how Lois & Clark remain alive for me. I also love the way FOLCs work together. I mean, just look at the incredible list of selfless General Editors for the archive. And there were at least five groups who got together after the end of the series to write virtual seasons in fanfic; I was involved in one of those, and I know it was a lot of work for everyone involved, but it was great to be part of the achievement. Oh, and let's not forget the legion of volunteers who put together the Kerth and NKerth awards every year or so :) Well, I guess I've blathered on long enough -- it's just that this is one of my favorite subjects :) Gotta go chase my child... -- Pam Jernigan / ChiefPam / jernigan@bellsouth.net http://www.geocities.com/~chiefpam http://personal.rdu.bellsouth.net/~jernigan/ "I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." --Psalm 27:13-14 ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 14 Nov 2000 10:24:45 +0300 Reply-To: aviatiko@internet-zahav.net.il Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: avia tiokotsky Subject: LAFF2001 update MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; x-mac-type="54455854"; x-mac-creator="4D4F5353" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Hi guys! The votes are in and we have a definite winner! This year's LAFF will be held between August 6th and August 11th . We have some ideas for activities but more ideas are welcome. We are always happy to hear from you guys! That's the update for now, another update and possibly a LAFF2001 web site will be announced after Thanksgiving. The LAFF2001 Crew ========================================================================= Date: Tue, 14 Nov 2000 14:38:20 -0800 Reply-To: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" Sender: "Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic" From: Judith Williams Subject: OT: In celebration of Women's History Month MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit I received this today; and since there are so many remarkable women who are also mothers gathered here, I thought I'd send it along. :) Jude Subject: A Tribute to Moms - Roberta K. > That 's why I loved my Mom..... > > Mom and Dad were watching TV when Mom said, "I'm tired, and its getting > late. > I think I'll go to bed." > > She went to the kitchen to make sandwiches for the next day's lunches, > rinsed > out the popcorn bowls, took meat out of the freezer for supper the > following evening, checked the cereal box levels, filled the sugar > container, put spoons and bowls on the table and started the coffee pot > for > brewing the next morning. > > She then put some wet clothes in the dryer, put a load of clothes into the > > wash, ironed a shirt and secured a loose button. She picked up the pieces > left on the table and put the telephone book back into the drawer. She > watered the plants, emptied a wastebasket and hung up a towel to dry. > > She yawned and stretched and headed for the bedroom. She stopped by the > desk > and wrote a note to the teacher, counted out some cash for the field trip > > and pulled a textbook out from hiding under the chair. > > She signed a birthday card for a friend, addressed and stamped the > envelope > and wrote a quick note for the grocery store. She put both near her purse. > > > Mom then creamed her face, put on moisturizer, brushed and flossed her > teeth > and trimmed her nails. Dad called out, "I thought you were going to bed." > > "I'm on my way," she said. > > She put some water into the dog's dish and put the cat outside, then made > sure the doors were locked. Then looked in on each of the kids and turned > > out a bedside > lamp, hung up a shirt, threw some dirty socks in the hamper and had a > brief > conversation with the one up still doing homework. > > In her own room, she set the alarm, laid out clothing for the next day, > straightened up the shoe rack. She added 3 things to her list of things > to > do for tomorrow. > > About that time, Dad turned off the TV and announced to no one in > particular, > "I'm going to bed." And he did....without another thought. > > Anything extraordinary here?????? Wonder why women live longer????? > > CAUSE THEY ARE STRONG, MADE FOR THE LONG HAUL.... > > Send this to five phenomenal women today in celebration of Women's > History > Month. They'll love you for it.