We had the meeting late this morning, since two of us had to go perform a Field Investigation. Normally, that involves putting down the steaming mug of Chock Full O’ Nuts and looking southeast down across the pasture now starting to shout brilliant GREEN in the placid Piedmont Spring awakening. This was a different matter, one associated with State Compliance. We want to be compliant when convenient. The F150 truck normally minds its own business down by the barn, but the Commonwealth of Virginia mandates an annual outing to town to an approved authority to demonstrate all four wheels roll and are generally associated with an operable engine.
The group took a poll late yesterday as the level in one of the clear liquid bottles dropped alarmingly. Since Rocket and Loma were both experienced in operating two-person high-performance jet-powered machines, we elected them to take the truck to town and get the inspection. It could have been one of those inadvertent adventures involving ‘dropping the vehicle’ and procuring one of Culpeper’s few ‘Uber’ simulations, but this was an almost effortless adventure that turned into an on-the-spot investigation of the new inflation numbers.
Loma was used to handling the radio communications and upon successful recovery at The Farm, debriefed the event as Rocket relaxed from handling the truck’s various systems, ignition, steering and radio, in general order. Loma only had one picture, a disappointment for the photo crew. But the gist of his report was succinct and compatible with Refuge Farm standards.
“So, we pulled up as the sign was just being turned on. Neon. Very old school. We parked in front of the access door to the garage so they would have to do something with the vehicle, which we had already demonstrated was mobile by getting it there. We sat down in the waiting area for a while and realized we had to make our own coffee in the machine. There was some network we aren’t familiar with on the flatscreen next to it, and we got the news update along with the caffeine. It wasn’t bad.”
“The news or the coffee?” growled Splash, apparently concerned that he had missed something free.
“The coffee was fresh, since we made it but have no report on the purity of the water itself. Back on the ship it had a delightful little touch of JP-5 fuel, but this seemed OK. The news was the strange combination we hear all the time. It is bad news on inflation, international unease, a land-war in progress in Europe and it is all Putin’s fault so nothing to worry about.”
“We heard 8.5% on the inflation thing. Doesn’t that mean 15% really?”
“Dunno. It depends on what they want the Fed to do at the next meeting. The truth regrettably passed away some time ago, so it is easier to try to figure out what they want to happen based on our reaction to it.”
“Isn’t it easier to blame some President who isn’t in office at the moment?”
“Easy. This is a mission de-brief, not a comment on current politics,” said Amanda, alert that ideas from off the property might conflict with her legal portfolio to keep the Chairman’s little enterprise out of trouble. “So, no commentary about the End of the American Century, please.”
“I thought we could still talk about things overseas we have nothing to do with? The Government in Sri Lanka, that big island off India just collapsed. We don’t know if it supposed to capsize. Indonesia is freaking out over shortage of cooking oil, possibly Putin’s fault. Peru may have a touch of altitude sickness or something. There is trouble all over and none of it is our fault.”
“That is the good news?”
“No, they looked at the truck, drained that slippery stuff and put more in and slapped a sticker on the windshield. We were done so fast we could have stopped at the Belmont Farms Distillery on the way home but it wasn’t open yet.”
“That is the mission report?”
“No news is good news. We already wrote off the American Century thing back when we left Afghanistan.”
“Careful, Boys.” Amanda was alarmed at where things might be going. “I can report that this was a successful morning.”
“Not for the guys at the truck stop. We heard them shouting in the back about oil prices going up every time they turned around.”
“That is quite enough. For record-keeping purposes, we have established it is all Putin’s problem, and thus a transitory one. By the time we have to get the truck inspected again everything will be fine.”
“I was thinking about going back to Belmont Farms since the news is so good.” Splash seemed to be a little anxious, so Amanda looked over at DeMille to see if he was ready to declare the meeting over. He said not a word but swept his hands in a manner to demonstrate the play was over and our runners were ‘safe’ at home.
Slash just got up and asked for the keys to the truck.
Copyright 2022 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com