Apologies for the incomplete first post. PART ONE ----------------
Well, Cackle Fersus got up that morning and forever afterwards swore something was bent about the day. Nothing had seemed straight or screwed on all the way ever since, and probably wouldn't ever be, unless he could find the True Monopole. The morning started out with what was left of a dream that night where he was hainted by his ancient elmer, GW3GW, reminding him from the old country that the path to prosperity and pure signals on Top Band could only be had by using a True Monopole, and speaking only True English into a True Microphone. Cackle wasn't too bothered by the True English or True Microphone specifications in the dream, since he had gotten into nearly exclusive CW, which was not rectified into "wron wo kro" in the telephone, radio and phonograph of left, across street, and right neighbors respectively. But the True Monopole in the haint bothered Cackle greatly as he had imperfect early life memories of experts pronouncing that only vertical monopoles could really give one true happiness on Top Band. All the experts had seemed very tall, and coincidentally rather monopolish themselves. Consequently that day, Cackle gathered himself up and did something he hadn't done for years since he was cramming for his Extra license. He got down his dusty, but still not filled spiral notebook of radio notes, his EZ-Squeeze pen, and headed off downtown to the big technical library at Old U to get the True English definition of the True Monopole. How could one possibly do a True Search for the True Monopole unless one knew the True Definition. He was not at all prepared for what the search would cost him. Cackle walked under the great columned facade of the Old U Technical Library expecting little more than his dim memories of college days and snoozing behind books in the stacks while on put-back duty. This evaporated when he opened the doors and wondered if he hadn't gone to the airport instead. Ahead of him was an armed guard, and a row of what looked like airport metal detectors. Cackle stood and stared. "Put your card in the reader." barked the guard. Cackle continued to stare. "Put your card in the reader," with more emphasis on each word, and an edge of impatience in his voice. "What card?" "Your student or library ID." "I don't have a card." "What's your program, I can look you up." The guard started clicking on his keyboard in front of him, the display flashing into a different screen layout. "What's your program?" he repeated when Cackle continued to stare. "What's a program?" was all that Cackle managed to reply, feeling weirdly like he was still in his haint dream. "You have to be a student in a program, graduated alumni with a library card, or library subscriber with a current card," rattled off the guard. "If you know your program I can look you up and match your picture ID for the card." "Oh," wheezed Cackle. "I'm none of those," feeling his face turn red with embarrassment. "How do I get a subscription?" "And why did..." The guard cut Cackle off, not bothering to look up from his keyboard. "Budget cuts. Go to Out-Services office, Monday, Wednesday, Friday, 8:30 to noon, Building 73 or www.oldulibraryservices.edu and fill out the form. Have a good day," sounding very much like a telephone recording. "Why did I think I could just walk into a library?" Cackle mumbled to himself aloud, turning to go back out the doors. "We have procedures," called back the guard, raising his voice. Finding the True Monopole was going to cost time and money, thought Cackle as he walked back down the steps. Was he still in his haint dream? -- To be continued. -- -------------------------- 73, Guy. _______________________________________________ UR RST IS ... ... ..9 QSB QSB - hw? BK
