transcription, транскрипция: [ n. ]
[WPI] A cuspy but bogus raving story about N random broken people.
Here is a classic example of the saga form, as told by Guy L. Steele:Jon L. White (login name JONL) and I (GLS) were office mates at MITfor many years. One April, we both flew from Boston to Californiafor a week on research business, to consult face-to-face with somepeople at Stanford, particularly our mutual friend Richard P. Gabriel (RPG; see gabriel ).
RPG picked us up at the San Francisco airport and drove us back toPalo Alto (going logical south on route 101, parallel to El Camino Bignum ). Palo Alto is adjacent to StanfordUniversity and about 40 miles south of San Francisco. We ate atThe Good Earth, a `health food' restaurant, very popular, thesort whose milkshakes all contain honey and protein powder. JONLordered such a shake -- the waitress claimed the flavor of the daywas "lalaberry". I still have no idea what that might be, but itbecame a running joke. It was the color of raspberry, and JONLsaid it tasted rather bitter. I ate a better tostada there than Ihave ever had in a Mexican restaurant.
After this we went to the local Uncle Gaylord's Old Fashioned IceCream Parlor. They make ice cream fresh daily, in a variety ofintriguing flavors. It's a chain, and they have a slogan: "If youdon't live near an Uncle Gaylord's -- MOVE!" Also, UncleGaylord (a real person) wages a constant battle to force big-nameice cream makers to print their ingredients on the package (likeair and plastic and other non-natural garbage). JONL and I hadfirst discovered Uncle Gaylord's the previous August, when we hadflown to a computer-science conference in Berkeley, California, thefirst time either of us had been on the West Coast. When not inthe conference sessions, we had spent our time wandering the lengthof Telegraph Avenue, which (like Harvard Square in Cambridge) waslined with picturesque street vendors and interesting little shops. On that street we discovered Uncle Gaylord's Berkeley store. Theice cream there was very good. During that August visit JONL wentabsolutely bananas (so to speak) over one particular flavor, gingerhoney.
Therefore, after eating at The Good Earth -- indeed, after everylunch and dinner and before bed during our April visit -- a tripto Uncle Gaylord's (the one in Palo Alto) was mandatory. We hadarrived on a Wednesday, and by Thursday evening we had been thereat least four times. Each time, JONL would get ginger honey icecream, and proclaim to all bystanders that "Ginger was the spicethat drove the Europeans mad! That's why they sought a route tothe East! They used it to preserve their otherwise off-tastemeat." After the third or fourth repetition RPG and I weregetting a little tired of this spiel, and began to paraphrase him:"Wow! Ginger! The spice that makes rotten meat taste good!" "Say! Why don't we find some dog that's been run over and sat inthe sun for a week and put some ginger on it for dinner?!" "Right! With a lalaberry shake!" And so on. This failed tofaze JONL; he took it in good humor, as long as we kept returningto Uncle Gaylord's. He loves ginger honey ice cream.
Now RPG and his then-wife KBT (Kathy Tracy) were putting us up(putting up with us?) in their home for our visit, so to thank themJONL and I took them out to a nice French restaurant of theirchoosing. I unadventurously chose the filet mignon, and KBT had je ne sais quoi du jour , but RPG and JONL had lapin (rabbit). (Waitress: " Oui , we have fresh rabbit, freshtoday." RPG: "Well, JONL, I guess we won't need anyginger!")
Obriged! For full description refer to http://www.tuxedo.org/~esr/jargon/