Channel Talk

The rise of ISDN as the future of telecoms is not as yet a foregone conclusion. Pity Motorola Information Systems Group (MISG) which last week launched its 'ISDN starter kit' complete with bitsurfer, Pro terminal adaptor and other Internet goodies. Unfortunately, launching the product was not a straightforward business because there are only two hotels in London with ISDN lines. One is the Savoy, where MISG couldn't get a room and the other is the Forte Crest Bloomsbury, near Euston Station, which has one ISDN line in a room on the sixth floor. Despite this lack of existing connections, and the fact that BT charge #400 for an ISDN line, MISG is convinced it's onto a winner.

This week might as well be Valentine's week because much of Channel Talk is devoted to lurve, sex and marriage. The first case is the girl who was chosen by the guy on last week's Blind Date. The sparkling wit and innuendo in her answers - along with the cheers of the guy's mates in the audience - made him choose her.

But the date is destined to fail as soon as she discusses work: she works for a computer distributor.

Those weird people at Creative Labs do some strange things in their pursuit of multimedia excellence. Take the distribution manager, Julia Duthie. Unthinkable though it is for Creative Labs, Julia had a day off a few weeks ago but some work was arranged for her - she had to participate in a conference call. She thought she would have plenty of time to take her cat to the vet. Predictably, just as she got inside the surgery her cat began to miaow like a Tasmanian Devil, her mobile phone rang and her conference call interview began. Julia has been heard to be a bit catty, but this was the first time she's ever been reported as saying: 'Miaow.' Channel Talk has heard a very strange story about two industry types who are, er, involved. Let's call them Mister P and Miss B. One evening Mister P arrived home and was swiftly debagged by Miss B. But the throes of her passion were rudely halted when she recognised the underwear he was proudly wearing. 'Mister P,' she exclaimed, in suspicious disbelief, 'why have you got my knickers on?' To which he replied, rather unconvincingly: 'I, er, thought they were my pants.' Who could these people be? If Channel Talk said that his creative choice of underwear left him under threat of being kicked where the sun does not shine, that would be a clue.

Stranger still is the case of another couple of mystery people who are intimately involved with computer distribution and, allegedly, with each other. She works underneath him at a major wholesaler, if you'll pardon the pun. It seems he made her his number two, and then made her his number one. Who could Channel Talk mean? She is the apple of his eye and she is very fond of little jewels. No more hints, Channel Talkers.