Desperately Seeking Standards: Trouble Comes A-Courtin' Karl <OR>
Karl vs. the Standards Police

Another day, another convention. My feet hurt, and the aisles seemed endless. My nerves were to the point that if I heard another proprietary system touted as "open", my head might crash.

Seeking relief, I sat down in a row of blue folding chairs. Suddenly, the show started, and I was trapped. An overly happy guy in a white button down shirt and striped tie started to harangue us.

"Yes Yes Yes we're Open Open Open," he pitched. "MVS means Most Versatile System, RPG means Really Peppy GUI, ..."

I couldn't take it any more. Standing, I shouted, "I want to hear standards and I mean now!"

He shifted gears effortlessly. "I get no kick from champagne..."

"I mean real standards."

"That's why the Lady is a Tramp..."

I started climbing out of the audience, tripping over bags of literature everyone had put on the floor. Why do people carry stuff at convention that they throw away when it comes in the mail?  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a suit talking to a security guard, so I kicked another bag of literature and started running down the aisle. Dozens of flyers flew, all proclaiming "Open" and "Standard".

I ducked into a big red tent and tried to blend into the crowd watching another show. On stage was a barbershop quartet singing, "Come to the cabaret, old chum, come to the Open Way..."

I couldn't contain myself. "That's not the standards people want to hear!"

The announcer ignored me. "Yes, folks, VMS now means Very Manageable System, and LAT is Leading All Transports, and ..."

"No No No," I shouted. I looked at the people around me, who all seemed mesmerized by the pitch and were ignoring me. "People, get with it, ask about X.500, about OSI, about ...". I felt a hand grab the back of my shirt, and twisted away. Running out of the tent, I heard the PA announcer saying, "Standards Police to aisle 1200, stat."

Cutting over to aisle 1300, I kept running. Behind me I could see the Standards Police, in their Standard Uniform. They were taking orders from the suits, and loading their Standard guns with their Standard bullets. Their Standard eyes watched me run.

I cut through a booth labeled, "DOS - Dee Open System" and kept running. I turned up aisle 1400 and collided with some Standards Police. Two of them held me down, while another aimed his Standard gun and pulled the Standard trigger ...

Blackness. I heard a sound like a line printer shuttle starting up over and over again, and realized it was my heart thudding. I sat up in bed, then realized someone was beside me. "Who are you?"

"I'm your wife, genius. Go back to sleep."

I thought of a way to erase the bad dream. "Want to play married people?" I asked with a leer.

"Sure," she said. "Turn back over and don't wake me up again."