Day in the life of A. Spod VII: A. Spod Goes East
      ------------------------------

Last week my parents took their annual holiday, and as ever I went with them
to see the world. This year was France. It's always France. Daddy (JethroTull
on mono) says it is the best country in Europe. Mummy (Twinkle on mono and
Bilbette on Sorcerers and Dragons Mud, SADMUD) agrees with him. As she always
does.

Just as we were leaving we had a last-minute hitch. We'd packed everything
equally in our matching rucksacks, but due to frequent washing, my anorak was
no longer the same shade of blue as my parents'. Thank Abdabs there was just
enough time to rush to Millets to buy a new one before heading off for Dover.
Checking first of course that the two-seater sidecar was securely attached.

Every year when we go to Dover, we travel along the A2. And every year we stop
off for watercress sandwiches at the Farthing Corner Services. It really is a
most exciting place. I imagine all the youngsters for miles around must flock
there of an evening. I would if I lived there.

On board the boat we put on florescant, orange arm-bands over our anoraks. "In
case one of us falls overboard," explained father. Mother muttered something
about not being likely in the refectory but I didn't quite catch it. Women's
things probably.

Daddy says women are the most mysterious things on the planet. "We can look
into an atom, see the furthest stars, but can we tell what's on a woman's
mind?"

I looked at my mother. I imagined she was thinking "I wonder what this
material is" as she was rubbing the waiter's trouser leg in an inquisitive
way. But father was right, I could not be sure what she was thinking.

When my mother had gone, being shown the way to the toilet by the waiter,
father told me how men used to woo women before bulletin boards were invented.
And how he met my mother at Woodstock. Woodstock Nature Ramble, 1971.

My father is very knowledgable about drugs, having once had a 'drag' on a
marijuana joint. He says drugs are a way of entering intoanother world, and
have been superceded by muds. "Becoming a wizard," he said, "is a much better
high than any drug can give."

"In fact there is only one pleasure greater." He gave me a knowing nod. I
nodded back. I know all about the mono talker.

My mother was gone for quite some time and we discussed much. How email was
cheaper than sending flowers. Why people should practice safe net-sex. And how
it used to be traditional to actually meet people in the flesh before going
out with them.

As the boat pulled into the harbour, my mother returned and all three of us
went to join our vehicle.

It was just an hours drive to our favourite campsite. My mother was much more 
quiet than usual. I thought she may need cheering up and so I started to
describe the rooms in Me and Dr_DOS's my mystery adventure mud - "Who banned
Sheri?" where you have to explore mono and discover who banned her.

"Please don't spoil this moment," said mother after only three rooms. I think
she may be sickening for something.

We arrived at the campsite and pitched our tents. Ever since I was 16 I've had
my own tent, so I know how to fend for myself. They like me to pitch mine a
little bit away from theirs as my father says they like to talk until late.
But I'm never so far away we can't shout goodnight to each other.


In the morning I got up early and went over to the shower block with a razer
in case there was anything to shave. My dad said I should grow a beard like
his, as it's a sign of rugged intelectualism. "You sit in a pub with a real
ale and a beard and the women will come flocking."

Nolife disagrees "No, you write a bulletin board and the women will come
flocking. You look at Beanburger. He wrote Beanfeast's house and he's been
kissed by a girl - and he's only 24."
    "24?" I remember asking at the time.
    "Yes, 24!"
    "I really must ask him what it's like being 24 next time he's on."
It always pays to be friendly to section owners.

On the way to the shower block I say Enrie LeCont, the son of the owner of the
campsite. He recognised me from the last dozen times we've been here.
    "Bonsieur Monsieur Spod."
    "Bonjour Enrie."
    "Vousette unbatard saad, N'est pas?"
    "Oui, oui!" I'm not sure what he meant but agreeing with him always makes
him smile so I humoured him.

After breakfast of toast cooked on our little gas cooker, we went into town.
Mother had only packed two of the three matching light-blue wool sweaters. We
went to see if we could get a third. Thank Deorth for the French chain
'Millet' which stocked just what we were looking for in exactluy the right
colour. And it's cheaper than in England. father says one day he will hire a
van, come over for a day trip and fill the van with goods from 'Millet.' We
could then keep some for ourselves, but sell the rest to our friends. Perhaps
I could organise a mono day trip.

That afternoon we visited Boulogne University. They have a terminal room open
to the public and so we padded into mono to use the talker. Mother created a
private room so the three of us could have a conversation without anybody
listening in.

Very soon I got messages from other mono users I know. Totalspod, starfork and
astraspoon. Thay said I was a lucky spod to be logged on from a foreign
country.

I soon realised that two of the other users were logged on from this very
university. Lespod and pasdevie. I engaged them in user-to-user conversation
and it soon emerged that they were in this room. We continued talking over
mono and eventually they asked if we would like to meet some other french mono
users. They said there was a mini-euromeet tonight in the Bastille bar of the
student union. We all agreed to meet at eight, and mother, father and I logged
off and went to eat.


At 8 o'clock we arrived at the Bastille Bar. Lespod introduced us to everyone.
So many new friends... couteau, fourche, cuiller, pourpre, hommedetoge,
triste, fromage (aka vingtquatre) and the very attractive cherie.

There were other users from other parts of europe. From Germany: nichtleben,
messer, gabel, loffel, dasspod and purpur; From Sweeden, spoooord; elspod from
Spain; spoddo from Italy and leepeemenos from Greece.

After initially talking to us in english about such things as the pros and
cons of each release of UNIX and reminising about La Maison de la Plante du
Fromage, they lapsed back into french and started discussing something very
intensly and animatedly. Me and father had to rely on my mother's limited
french to translate what she understand.

At about 8:45 a tall figure entered the room. "Who is he?" mother asked
Cherie. "Zat is O'spod of ze I.R.E." she explained.

Father explained "The Irish Railway Enthusiasts. The Irish terror group who
are always being caught because they only plant bombs at railway stations and
then hang around to collect a few more engine numbers."

Father and I were intregued. Mother was busy at the next table. The three
young men there were not part of the meet, but this didn't seem to bother my
mother who explained later was busy explaining the differences between the
english method of kissing and it's french equivalent.

O'spod sat down.
    "Have you got all your equipment?" asked pasdevie.
    "Uhuh."
    "Do you remember your part in the plan?"
    "Uhuh... I send a fake piece of email to Deordy from Sheri complaining
about Eboneezup. While he's reading this, I hack his 'pickles' account and
once in, expel GNoME and Spodrates. This will enable you to effect a coup and
take over mono in the name of the french underground resistence."
    "Zat way we can get all ze girls and not Abdabs."

Father and I both jumped up with a start. Mother even halted her cultural
exchanges and came back over to us.
    "Did I hear them right?" she asked of father and I. "They're going to take
over mono?"
    We both nodded - to shocked to speak.

But my mother was not shocked so easily. She turned to o'spod and put a hand
on his kakhi anorak. "Do you really think it'll be so simple?"
    "Well, er..."
    "Come with me and I'll let you into a little secret."

As we watched my mother took a bemused o'spod by the hand out of the bar.
Everybody including father and I exchanged bemused glances.

We were still seeking inspiration when they both returned. O'spod beaming
ear-to-ear and my mother too more noticably happy. O'spod sat back down,
smiled around at the others and stared glazy-eyed out of the window into the
night. Mother turned to lespod "You're a big fish in all this, I think you
need an explanation too," she said and led him out of the bar.

This continued until mother had led each of the ring-leaders out individually
(or in a pair as in the case of spoooord and leepeemenos) and returned soon
after with them in a similar state of stupification.

When, at last, she returned and sat back down next to us, smiling equally as
broadly as all the others, a bemused lesaddo, who hadn't been led off at all,
piped up "What about ze revolution?"
    "Ze what? Oh zat..." shrugged lespod.
    "I don't think we'll be needin' one of them." sighed o'spod wistfully.

The pause that followed was eventually broken by mother standing up and making
our excuses. They thanked her extensively and we walked out into the night.

After a few minutes silence father asked "What in the name enoland did you say
to them, Twinkle dear."
    "I remembered from my psychology classes that all revolutions were based
on frustration of one sort or another."
    "Frustration?" I asked, and then answered my own question. "Ah you mean
frustration that they can only log on to mono via a long-distance pad link and
so it is always slow?"
    "Something like that" mother sighed.
    "Well, one thing's for sure" father said, "Abdabs will be very, very
grateful."
    This struck a chord of pleasure with my mother, and she grinned almost
mischieviously all the way home.


After having saved mono from the hands on international revolutoinaries, the
rest of the holiday seemed dull by comparison. But it wasn't. I visited other
universities in the area, and my parents rediscovered their passion for nature
rambles. Going for very long walks together 'til late at night and not wanting
to talk about mono much when they returned. I think there may be something
wrong with them.

I told the symptoms to the doctor when we returned and he said it sounds like
they're developing 'lyves.' He said it was nothing to worry about, in fact it
was a good thing. What doews he know. The Quack! It seems horrible to me, it's
something I hope I never get.

Dr McBiddle said he doubted I ever would.

A.Spod 9/93