JargonFile/entries/saga.txt

saga

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 MIT for many years.
One April, we both flew from Boston to California for a week on research
business, to consult face-to-face with some people at Stanford, particularly
our mutual friend Richard P. Gabriel (RPG). RPG picked us up at the San
Francisco airport and drove us back to Palo Alto (going logical south on
route 101, parallel to El Camino Bignum ). Palo Alto is adjacent to Stanford
University and about 40 miles south of San Francisco. We ate at The Good
Earth, a health food restaurant, very popular, the sort whose milkshakes all
contain honey and protein powder. JONL ordered such a shake the waitress
claimed the flavor of the day was lalaberry. I still have no idea what that
might be, but it became a running joke. It was the color of raspberry, and
JONL said it tasted rather bitter. I ate a better tostada there than I have
ever had in a Mexican restaurant. After this we went to the local Uncle
Gaylord's Old Fashioned Ice Cream Parlor. They make ice cream fresh daily,
in a variety of intriguing flavors. It's a chain, and they have a slogan: If
you don't live near an Uncle Gaylord's MOVE! Also, Uncle Gaylord (a real
person) wages a constant battle to force big-name ice cream makers to print
their ingredients on the package (like air and plastic and other non-natural
garbage). JONL and I had first discovered Uncle Gaylord's the previous
August, when we had flown to a computer-science conference in Berkeley,
California, the first time either of us had been on the West Coast. When not
in the conference sessions, we had spent our time wandering the length of
Telegraph Avenue, which (like Harvard Square in Cambridge) was lined with
picturesque street vendors and interesting little shops. On that street we
discovered Uncle Gaylord's Berkeley store. The ice cream there was very
good. During that August visit JONL went absolutely bananas (so to speak)
over one particular flavor, ginger honey. Therefore, after eating at The
Good Earth indeed, after every lunch and dinner and before bed during our
April visit a trip to Uncle Gaylord's (the one in Palo Alto) was mandatory.
We had arrived on a Wednesday, and by Thursday evening we had been there at
least four times. Each time, JONL would get ginger honey ice cream, and
proclaim to all bystanders that Ginger was the spice that drove the
Europeans mad! That's why they sought a route to the East! They used it to
preserve their otherwise off-taste meat. After the third or fourth
repetition RPG and I were getting 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 in the sun for
a week and put some ginger on it for dinner?! Right! With a lalaberry shake!
And so on. This failed to faze JONL; he took it in good humor, as long as we
kept returning to 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 them JONL and I took them out to a
nice French restaurant of their choosing. 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, fresh today. RPG: Well,
JONL, I guess we won't need any ginger ! ) We finished the meal late, about
11PM, which is 2AM Boston time, so JONL and I were rather droopy. But it
wasn't yet midnight. Off to Uncle Gaylord's! Now the French restaurant was
in Redwood City, north of Palo Alto. In leaving Redwood City, we somehow got
onto route 101 going north instead of south. JONL and I wouldn't have known
the difference had RPG not mentioned it. We still knew very little of the
local geography. I did figure out, however, that we were headed in the
direction of Berkeley, and half-jokingly suggested that we continue north
and go to Uncle Gaylord's in Berkeley. RPG said Fine! and we drove on for a
while and talked. I was drowsy, and JONL actually dropped off to sleep for 5
minutes. When he awoke, RPG said, Gee, JONL, you must have slept all the way
over the bridge! , referring to the one spanning San Francisco Bay. Just
then we came to a sign that said University Avenue. I mumbled something
about working our way over to Telegraph Avenue; RPG said Right! and
maneuvered some more. Eventually we pulled up in front of an Uncle
Gaylord's. Now, I hadn't really been paying attention because I was so
sleepy, and I didn't really understand what was happening until RPG let me
in on it a few moments later, but I was just alert enough to notice that we
had somehow come to the Palo Alto Uncle Gaylord's after all. JONL noticed
the resemblance to the Palo Alto store, but hadn't caught on. (The place is
lit with red and yellow lights at night, and looks much different from the
way it does in daylight.) He said, This isn't the Uncle Gaylord's I went to
in Berkeley! It looked like a barn! But this place looks just like the one
back in Palo Alto! RPG deadpanned, Well, this is the one I always come to
when I'm in Berkeley. They've got two in San Francisco, too. Remember,
they're a chain. JONL accepted this bit of wisdom. And he was not totally
ignorant he knew perfectly well that University Avenue was in Berkeley, not
far from Telegraph Avenue. What he didn't know was that there is a
completely different University Avenue in Palo Alto. JONL went up to the
counter and asked for ginger honey. The guy at the counter asked whether
JONL would like to taste it first, evidently their standard procedure with
that flavor, as not too many people like it. JONL said, I'm sure I like it.
Just give me a cone. The guy behind the counter insisted that JONL try just
a taste first. Some people think it tastes like soap. JONL insisted, Look, I
love ginger. I eat Chinese food. I eat raw ginger roots. I already went
through this hassle with the guy back in Palo Alto. I know I like that
flavor! At the words back in Palo Alto the guy behind the counter got a very
strange look on his face, but said nothing. KBT caught his eye and winked.
Through my stupor I still hadn't quite grasped what was going on, and
thought RPG was rolling on the floor laughing and clutching his stomach just
because JONL had launched into his spiel ( makes rotten meat a dish for
princes ) for the forty-third time. At this point, RPG clued me in fully.
RPG, KBT, and I retreated to a table, trying to stifle our chuckles. JONL
remained at the counter, talking about ice cream with the guy b.t.c.,
comparing Uncle Gaylord's to other ice cream shops and generally having a
good old time. At length the g.b.t.c.: said, How's the ginger honey? JONL
said, Fine! I wonder what exactly is in it? Now Uncle Gaylord publishes all
his recipes and even teaches classes on how to make his ice cream at home.
So the g.b.t.c.: got out the recipe, and he and JONL pored over it for a
while. But the g.b.t.c.: could contain his curiosity no longer, and asked
again, You really like that stuff, huh? JONL said, Yeah, I've been eating it
constantly back in Palo Alto for the past two days. In fact, I think this
batch is about as good as the cones I got back in Palo Alto! G.b.t.c.:
looked him straight in the eye and said, You're in Palo Alto! JONL turned
slowly around, and saw the three of us collapse in a fit of giggles. He
clapped a hand to his forehead and exclaimed, I've been hacked! [My spies on
the West Coast inform me that there is a close relative of the raspberry
found out there called an ollalieberry ESR] [Ironic footnote: the meme about
ginger vs. rotting meat is an urban legend. It's not borne out by an
examination of medieval recipes or period purchase records for spices, and
appears full-blown in the works of Samuel Pegge, a gourmand and notorious
flake case who originated numerous food myths. The truth seems to be that
ginger was used to cover not rot but the extreme salt taste of meat packed
in brine, which was the best method available before refrigeration.