Rumours swirled around Timmy's home of Ocean Side, like dead leaves in a breeze.Just about everyone knew something had happened at Timmy's QTH. From information pieced together from a few close friends it seems that after Timmy was brought home from his aborted South Pacific DXpedition by his storm-trooper wife dynamo, he slipped into a deep depression. The fact that he had not made a single contact during the three days he had spent on the island seems to have had a direct bearing on his mental health. (It will be remembered that Timmy waited for three days while the "Lists" were being organized.) Soon after Timmy returned home he disappeared into his shack for several days where, according to his friends, he soldered more than three hundred connectors to short lengths of coax. This strange and compulsive behaviour led Ol'Dynamo to seek advice from her friend and legal advisor, New York attorney Goo. Lawyer Goo took her through the legal procedures which would lead up to the eventual certification and confinement of husband Timmy. To fully understand the complex nature of Ham Radio's most celebrated List louse, a brief examination of his past is required reading: Timmy's passion for a no fuss, no mess, DXing via Lists, led him strangely into Auto Racing and Big Game hunting. Timmy's Big Game hunting expeditions using the "List" technique he learned in amateur radio has been scrupulously documented in Book 1, in the acclaimed literary series and expose' "The Adventures of Timmy The Twerp." Timmy's attempt to re-organize the famed Indy 500 auto race with the DXer's "List" technique practised in Ham Radio is worth noting: It is generally accepted that chasing DX is a sport enjoyed by Hams world wide, but Timmy loathed the infamous pile-ups associated with the sport. Timmy also felt that the "little guy" didn't have a chance in the pile-up and so he organized numerous ad hoc List operations, long before "Lists" became institutionalized, as they have now become. In fact it was Timmy's Lists which projected him into the seductive glow of the Ham's footlights. During this period Lil'Timmy bloated with importance, like a marsh toad. His phone rang all hours of the day and night with requests to be included on his "preferred" List. Timmy invariably and demurely acquiesced to the demands of this strange weasel-like assortment of DXers. His neurotic need for fame and love eventually drove him to the Indianapolis Speedway where he attempted to persuade the management that the "Little Guy" should be given a chance at the coveted prize, not just the "Big Guns" as he so aptly pointed out. Indy's 500 Management listened in pained silence to his plan: "First you have to do away with those messy starts," or "pile-ups" as Timmy preferred to call them. "Each driver driving his own car, regardless of the make and model, must be given a shot at the prize. And there must not be another vehicle on the track when this is happening." Timmy warned the assembled group of stunned race organizers that it might take some drivers days to complete the course and that even he intended to enter with his treasured 60's Beetle. "That's not sport, that's not even a race, you jackass," the group chorused. "Get this twerp (that's when Timmy acquired his descriptive adjective) outa here," they snarled. "Screwballs like him are going to ruin the sport." The latest word from Timmy's up-state address is that he's attempting to organize a one-at-a-time List style volley ball team, for the lil'guys at the farm. The foregoing is a fictional account of the life and times of "Lister" Timmy the Twerp. Any resemblance to persons living or otherwise is pure coincidence. Reproduction rights of this or any of the T.T.T. Books can be obtained by writing to the author. The author supports and encourages unlimited reproduction. DON, VE3HGN
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