Apologies for the incomplete first post.
PART ONE
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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. --
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73, Guy.
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UR RST IS ... ... ..9 QSB QSB - hw? BK
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