I am legion.

Post #428,749 by malraux 5/2/19 2:38:45 PM 5/2/19 2:38:45 PM Reply	I am legion. There are 2,550 Scott Anderson units in the U.S. (United Scotts of America), and it's 10 years because our/my attention is somewhat divided between our/my various concerns. Regards, -scott Welcome to Rivendell, Mr. Anderson.
Post #428,926 by rcareaga 5/10/19 3:42:54 PM 5/10/19 3:42:54 PM Reply	There’s one other Steven Careaga (my first* name), a fireman in Washington state, but so far as I’ve been able to determine, I’m the only “Rand Careaga.” cordially, why did my parents name me “Steven” without divulging the fact to me until I was five or six, if they always intended to use the middle name? Hell if I know. My best guess is that the alliteration with my elder brother’s first name was appealing. Between 1960 and 1962, I attended a school that was adamant* about using my first name (“it says so right here”), and after some ineffectual resistance I meekly submitted. Fast-forward to the end of the decade, my senior year in high school (and many neighborhoods, many schools later, so no social continuity to speak of), and I am introduced at a party to a chum’s girlfriend Robin, who looks awfully familiar. Could this be Robin [Smith], after whom I had yearned shyly all through fourth grade? This being established, I exclaimed “Robin! It’s me, Rand, from Miss Knox’s class at Knollwood!” She looked blankly at me. “Wait, I’ll come in again. It’s me, Steven!” “Oh,” she said after a moment, and turned to speak to someone else.
Post #428,951 by Ashton 5/11/19 3:23:10 PM 5/11/19 3:23:10 PM Reply	Steven: you're Incurable, but.. in a Good way ;^> As to that later-diss, right from "Charlie Brown's {never-responsive} little-red-haired-girl", you're not alone in the prescribed lovelorn predicament! In Kinder-garten, where the class would 'play? ...'prey?--upon various primitive instruments/pretending Music would result. There was a small-Goddess noticed, happily just then adjacent to moi!. After a time we were to switch to another instrument--kinda musical chairs thing? But I sat still. I recall perfectly The Teacher, so-artfully escaping an actual er, confrontation-with-a-tyke!!?* (horrors) thence uttering my first-ever heard, 'lateral arabesque'--though I had no knowledge of such a phrase, 'course: ~~{soothingly} Ashton seems to like The Rhythm-Sticks! {{ugh}} ..but the next fuzzy-words escape the neuron-file, to effect: OK you shameless little conniver--This Time you can cheat The Rulez. But... Ditto outcome, even though {sob} an arm's-touch away: ..I next had to move-on to The Triangle IIRC ...bereft. :-/ Life's a Bitch innit? * back-story: My, later-Fav, Aunt taught at this school, walking distance from our digs then. I regret never asking her later if that micro-incident got passed on? aka if Teach even Noticed the hormonal, Vulcan?-ƒorces present in that fleeting 'scene'. Oh well.

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