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-
- Greetings all!
-
- Sometimes, quite out of the blue, there arises an alert condition which
- prompts an otherwise docile devotee of amateur radio to become a
- conveyor of shopping items by command of one who must be obeyed. One
- day, this happened to Algernon. Indeed, It began when Mildred, his good
- spouse, actually went 'on air' - quite by accident, of course.
-
-
- On Fetching the Shopping
- ------------------------
-
- 'I'm going round to mother for an hour or two,' Mildred announced, just
- as Algernon had begun a contact with the speech processor adjusted to
- maximum sensitivity. Now most radio operators will realise that this is
- a very risky business, especially when using a voice-operated switch.
- Thus an insect - out for an innocent stroll - may put the transmitter
- on-air if it decides to use the microphone cable for its
- 'contitutional'. On this occasion, Mildred's vocal cords, renouwned for
- their energy content, did the trick nicely. After the onslaught, the
- voice-operated switch tripped out again and his contact came back loud
- and clear... <<OK .. I'd better let you go then. Best wishes to you and
- to mother! Bye-bye from ZX5ZOG>> 'Arrrrghhh!!' Our hero bellowed across
- the planet as his voice re-activated the transmitter. His rare Slobovian
- long-distance call was now strictly in the past tense, and his forlorn
- orbs stared at the shack ceiling while he listened absently to the
- ensuing pile-up as the other amateurs tried their luck... <<No - he's
- gone. And I think somebody was tuning up on the frequency..,>> said a
- faint voice somewhere in the hash. A much nearer and familiar voice
- continued, 'and I've left you a shopping list!'
-
- The front door closed as his good spouse made her way to the local bus
- stop. He switched off the rig and walked cautiously to the kitchen
- table, whereon lay a torn piece of newspaper with the shopping list
- inscribed around the margin. Ten minutes later, our hero felt that he
- had decoded the message sufficiently to guarantee 75% accuracy and he
- made a copy, adding the names of the sources of provisions. He also
- added two more; the amateur radio emporium ten miles away, and a nearby
- motoring discount store. An unwritten default location was his favourite
- scrap yard. But first, the cake shop and then the supermarket....
-
- Algernon's nostrils twitched at the aroma of freshly baked bread. This
- was not sufficient to allay his apprehension on entering, however. He
- pulled out the twelve inch diameter disc of wire mesh from under his
- anorak, which in normally served as a reflector for his 23 cm helical
- aerial. He secured the mesh to his face with two stout rubber bands and
- in a nervous, stacatto voice asked for five bread rolls. 'No need to
- wear a fencing mask in here, y'know. There's no wasps buzzing around in
- this shop,' the assistant commented stiffly. While she was counting out
- the change, he surreptitiously prodded the jam doughnuts with the whip
- aerial of his 70 cm handheld radio. Deftly returning the rig to his
- pocket, he indicated them with a nod. 'Those look nice and fresh -
- three, please!' he said. The assistant looked suitably appeased, and as
- she reached for the wrapping paper he tucked away the mesh disc and
- fastened up his coat. Well, that was easy enough, he thought, as he
- stepped out onto the street again, sinking his incisors into one of the
- jam doughnuts. But our hero wasn't looking forward to the supermarket -
- he hated queues and nearly always became involved in some untoward
- incident...
-
-
- It was while he was passing the precariously constructed edifice of
- cornflakes packages that his 70cm portable transceiver burst into
- life... <<Yeah! I wouldn't be seen dead in one of those!>> it declared
- to all within listening range. 'Keep your opinions to yourself, my man!'
- objected an elderly lady, as she grabbed one of the aforesaid packages
- and whacked Algernon's balding pate with it. She placed it into her
- shopping trolley, leaving him to pick up the fifteen others which had
- toppled to the floor. Reddening visibly, Algernon swiftly moved on to
- gather his purchases and hastened for the checkout. Not for the first
- time the habit of wearing wellington boots disturbed his equilibrium.
- Suddenly, the well worn rubber soles skidded on a patch of spilled
- cooking oil. As his awareness tuned in to this new turn of events, he
- found himself indulging in a new mode of mobile operation. He lay prone
- across his shopping trolley, transceiver in hand, as it sped down the
- toiletries avenue towards a checkout till. Fortunately, a pallet of
- toilet rolls intervened. Picking himself up from the debris, he
- staggered towards the checkout, where a sizeable queue had developed. On
- these occasions, it was Algernon's habit to be occupied with his
- transceiver for the alleviation of boredom and to keep in touch with
- civilisation. He played with the buttons and decided to re-adjust its
- programming. The ensuing cascade of bleeps was heard by the till
- operator, who looked suspiciously at her bar-code reader. 'Bert to
- checkout three, please!' she called anxiously into her microphone.
- Looking up at the throng of customers, she said, 'I'm sorry, it looks
- like the till computer's just started to act up - could you all go to
- the other checkouts, please?' Algernon gritted his teeth. 'That was you,
- yer twit!' piped a young lad standing next to him. Algernon's
- countenance broke into a glassy grin - of the sort he wore when swatting
- flies.
-
- After what seemed to be a geological epoch, he emerged through the swing
- doors and shambled into the car park. Next, the butcher's. 'No lean
- ham? OK, I'll take a couple of those cans of button mushrooms in Birani
- sauce.' He hoped that Mildred wouldn't mind this small unscheduled
- delicacy. Then to the pet shop next door. He often wondered whether this
- juxtaposition was significant, especially after Mildred had cooked one
- of her cottage pies. He turned his attention to the requirements of the
- family hound, Baskerville, which were satisfied very rarely, if at all.
- 'Three sacks of heavy duty granules, please. And ten large cans of
- Zingo-Blast.' That should reduce the chances of him devouring my aerial
- cables and power leads - for a while, anyway, he thought.
-
- Looking at his watch, he eased the car into the morning traffic towards
- the other side of the village. At the greengrocer's, he consulted the
- shopping list again and found difficulty in reading his own handwriting.
- Better err on the high side, he thought. Or she'll send me out again. So
- it was that Algernon loaded two crates of bananas into the boot of his
- car. He noticed that they were marked with a deposit value, so he
- dutifully took out the bananas. 'I think you'll want these back!' he
- said, returning the empty crates. As he was being thanked by the
- shopkeeper, Algernon noticed something huddled in the corner of one of
- them. 'Hey! That's interesting!' He lifted out a dark, furry, eight
- legged creature about half the size of his hand and carefully positioned
- it on the floor, next to another pile of crates just inside the shop
- entrance. 'They say spiders like to crawl upwards... let's see ...' The
- buzz of conversation in the shop ceased abruptly.
-
- Then, within what seemed to be a ten microsecond interval, the shop
- emptied - over the prostrate form of our hero, who miraculously avoided
- being trampled to death by the stampede of vanishing customers. The
- shopkeeper, with a grimace, disposed of the spider in time honoured
- fashion while Algernon looked on with some consternation. He would have
- liked to have claimed it and taken it home as a pet - secretly, of
- course. Having lost this opportunity of acquiring a mascot for his
- shack, Algernon shrugged his shoulders and set off to look for
- consolation in the motoring discount store.
-
- He had explained to Mildred that the car exhaust system needed
- replacing. 'How much?' 'Oh! That's too dear - can you fix it?' 'Yes - it
- should cut the cost by half.' 'You had better get on with it, then!' And
- so our hero was now very well placed indeed to procure something what he
- had wanted for some time. No matter that the standard electric welding
- kit, now within his budget, would punch holes through the thin metal
- walls of his silencer box. He would weld up some 1/8 inch thick steel
- cladding to fit over the existing box and then try welding it to the
- thicker seams at each end. That should, he thought, keep the car (and
- Mildred) quiet - until the pipe gave way under the strain of the extra
- weight. Then, to the rescue again with the welder! 'Good job we've got
- it, isn't it...?' If there were problems, Algernon would ask his friend
- Syd to covertly finish the job round at his yard using gas welding
- equipment. His plan seemed faultless. Of course, the real motive for
- purchasing an electric welder was the construction of a huge telescopic
- tower, which at night would emerge from a hidden silo in the back
- garden. His sojourn at the motoring discount store passed with only a
- minor incident. The low compressive strength of wellington boots was
- confirmed by the pain experienced when he accidently parked the welder
- on his toe at the cash till. The assistant thought his expression
- reflected dismay at the price, and rather than risk losing the sale,
- offered a further ten percent reduction. 'Thanks!' our hero squeaked, as
- he hobbled to the door. Welding mask, gloves, electrodes; yes, it was
- all there. The rear of the car dipped another inch as he loaded up. Now
- off to the scrap yard for the steel cladding and some odd pieces to
- practise on, and indeed anything else which might catch his eye or 'come
- in handy'...
-
- Any mountaineer would rejoice in the sight of Syd's scrapyard.
- Algernon's friend presided over the comings and goings of all manner of
- metallic delights. On this occasion, Syd's pile was no less forthcoming
- in the matter of mild steel sheets - excellent for Algernon's purposes.
- But one slight snag. They gleamed dull grey atop a twenty feet high
- mound of miscellaneous prams, cookers, old drainpipes and other
- artifacts. Spilled oil from discarded engine parts could be seen
- glistening here and there. And it had just been raining. None of this
- deterred our intrepid hero, who's main goal lay at the end of the 45
- degree slope. 'Hi Syd - OK to browse? Right. See you soon!' Scrabbling,
- occasionally sliding as he went, Algernon made steady progress up the
- mound. Now and then, he would pause for a better hand-hold or foot-hold,
- taking care not to tread on anything sharp. Perhaps he should have put
- on his hiking boots instead. The jagged skyline ahead, he proceeded
- onward. Attrition of his clothing by protruding edges and spikes went
- unnoticed, as did the acquisition of grime as he mopped his brow. At
- last, the prize! An ideal sheet of steel presented itself to his
- immediate field of view. He tugged at a corner and it slid towards him
- encouragingly. Other sheets and pieces of angle above it squealed and
- clattered in mild protest. Then it was free.
-
- Recovering from his effort, Algernon placed two of the rectangular steel
- sheets by his feet and stood a short distance from the summit. Ever
- mindful of the ether and the potential of a site for the purposes of
- radio transmission, he fired up his handheld radio and accessed the
- local repeater. Before he could get a reply, there was an ominous
- creaking from somewhere near his feet. As he reached out to steady
- himself, the carrying strap on his rig slid down the other arm and the
- unit dropped onto the scrap pile. Before his astonished gaze, it
- disappeared down a jagged hole. Oh dear! Lack-a-day! He froze in horror.
- 'Aarrgh!' he wailed.
-
- Aroused by the cry of anguish, Syd emerged from his hut. After about an
- hour's scrambling, tearing at the scrap iron and indulging in many risks
- to the person and feats of incredible agility, our hero, with the help
- of Syd and his mobile crane, recovered the radio. It had fallen into an
- old oil drum which contained a residue of dubious fluid. It was intact,
- but the state of the carrying case suggested that the alternative
- meaning of the term 'squelch' was more appropriate as he stuffed the
- unit into his pocket. But at that moment those wellies let him down
- again. He skidded on one of his own steel plates and fell on his back
- into one of the many murky pools around the yard. 'How about a wash and
- tidy up, mate?' Syd suggested, as he helped Algernon to his feet. 'OK.
- Thanks for your help - I'll clean up the rig, then I must dash.' He
- jumped with another squelch into the driving seat and handed Syd a
- parting soggy gratuity. About half a mile up the road, he was flagged
- down by an Army vehicle. Good grief! What now? he thought.
-
- Er - sorry to trouble you,' said the sergeant in full camouflage, 'We
- thought you was one of our men making it back to camp. We're one short,
- you see.' A party of equally camouflaged soldiers, all with daubed
- faces, peered down at the car from their wagon. 'That's alright - hope
- you find him.' Algernon bleated. 'Thank you, sir! Carry on, sir! Good
- afternoon!' The sergeant and his platoon roared away into the distance.
-
- Algernon reached the amateur radio emporium half an hour before closing.
- He moved stiffly as flakes of caked mud fell to the polished floor. The
- sales assistant looked up in alarm at the ghoulish figure staggering
- towards him. People stopped perusing the various items of equipment and
- books to stare at the apparition. A few sniffed pointedly. 'M-M-Mr.
- Braithwaite,' the assistant rasped, 'I think you should deal with this!'
- 'What is it, Nigel? Great Scott! I say, old man... can we help you?'
- 'Bill! It's me - Algernon! You know, G3...' 'Yes! Of course! Oh, I say,
- you do look rather strained, old boy! Here, sit down. Nigel - some black
- coffee, please!' Algernon allowed events to unfold before him and did
- everything he was told. His coat was removed; he was escorted to the
- bathroom and given a fresh towel. Twenty minutes later, he was feeling
- much better. 'Very good of you to call, after all you've been through,
- old chap!' Mr. Braithwaite said. 'Nigel has checked your rig and it's
- working fine. An aerial rotator was it you wanted? Look - have this one
- at fifty percent off. Brand new and it should do the job nicely.'
- Algernon could hardly believe his ears.'Th-thanks Bill,' he said,
- 'thanks..''
-
- Mildred was in the front garden as our hero pulled into the driveway.
- 'Well, how did it go today, then? she asked, 'Did you get the shopping?'
- 'Yes - fine. Any time, dear. No problems at all!'
-
- Cheers. Mind how you go... de Duncan, G0SIB
-
- *** EOF
-