There's been a lot of talk lately about Microsoft, and whether or not it threatens to monopolize the PC world. Actually, I'm more concerned that Bill Gates is going to turn my brain to spit with his TV commercials, but never mind. While the Justice Department gets all huffy at Bill, I can't help but remember one of the most delightful monopolies I've ever seen, and how it didn't hurt me much. In fact, it helped me put the modern world into some kind of perspective. Let me explain.

There is a cold and desolate village in the mountains of Nepal called Lobuche, and it's situated at one of the highest altitudes of any settlement on earth. Lobuche is a few miles from Mt. Everest Base Camp, on the lateral moraine of the great Khumbu Glacier, and it really isn't much more than a few stone huts and a corral for yaks. One of these huts has a sign out front that reads "Above the Clouds Lodge." Karma Sherpa is the owner, and like many Sherpa people he can't be accused of understatement with regard to his use of the word "lodge." Karma's place is a dark and drafty shack with a wood stove on the floor that vents its smoke into the main room, and a few slatted bunks on the walls. There, for a few rupees, climbers and trekkers can throw down a sleeping bag, order up some fried potatoes, and sample a glass or two of Karma's home-made "rakshi." Michelin doesn't rate the place, thank God, but Karma doesn't care and neither do most of his customers. At 16,000 feet you take what you can get, and Karma's place is somewhat better than sleeping with yaks.

I was at Karma's some years back, along with my friend Bob, an old Himalayan hand. At that time, Karma had a lock on the lodging business in the area. Even though Sherpas have inhabited the high Himalaya for centuries, Lobuche is still a forbidding place, and it takes a gutsy entrepreneur to want to live there and make a few rupees off the seasonal influx of Westerners like Bob and me.

We had walked for two weeks from the trailhead at the end of the Kathmandu road, sleeping in tents the whole way. Now, tired and shivering from our trip up to Base Camp, we were ready for a roof over our heads and a couple drinks in our bellies. A half dozen kerosene lamps illuminated the place as dusk fell, and every so often the door would open and a small climbing party would stumble wearily in. It was cold and beginning to snow, and the lack of oxygen at that altitude made a 15 degree night feel like 50 below.

Maybe that's why the gangly Aussie who had just stomped in was in such a foul mood. He ordered a cup of tea from Karma's wife, and sat in the corner and scowled. When the tea didn't come fast enough, he called to the kitchen demanding why. When the tea did arrive, it wasn't hot enough. When it came back hot, it wasn't sweet enough. When the potatoes arrived they weren't cooked enough. All this was too much, of course, for the otherwise congenial mood of the establishment, so Karma finally approached the glowering guest and asked, "What is the problem?" "Everything's screwy here, mate" the Aussie grumbled. "They can't serve anything right."

Now Karma is a gracious host, but he doesn't suffer boors gladly. A long pause ensued. He stared down at his seated customer with the sternest expression a Sherpa can muster, which isn't really very fierce, but it gets the point across. Suddenly, a mischievous smile crossed his face, and he strode happily to the door. The wind rushed in as he threw it open, and flakes of snow danced out of the black and lonely Himalayan night. "Perhaps," Karma sang in the cheeriest of voices, "you would like to take your business elsewhere."

I'd like to save that moment in time. A snapshot Buddha-like instant that spoke volumes on acceptance and, well, karma. It's much better than the denouement and the mumbling acquiescence of the humbled boor. In any case, I don't care if there are a dozen "lodges" in Lobuche now, Karma's will still get my business the next time I go back. Monopoly or no, I slept well that night, thankful that a crusty old Sherpa had the daring to set up shop on a wild moraine, taking a chance that he could make it go. Next time the rakshi's on me, good host, and by the way, did you get your copy of Windows 95 yet?

Transmitted: 95-09-18 10:46:57 EDT