Vapor Lock

Vapor Lock

“Not all those who wander are lost.” J.R.R. Tolkien

“But sometimes the wanderers aren’t aware of where they are going.” Vic Socotra

Vapor had that look on his face at the picnic table. It was crisp with that cold front that swept through last night and the waning moon hung bright in the blue sky. We are used to his facial expression, since it is part of how he got his callsign in the Fleet. The flight incident had involved a gaseous inflammable fluid, or the lack of it, in the internal tanks on his F/A-18 Hornet. We don’t call it a “look.” We call it his “Vapor Lock.”

It was an unusual meeting as we were all together for the first time since the election. Covering the transition has become surreal enough that everyone has a portfolio of strange tales to follow. They lead all over.

There is the pure martial stuff in the wars in progress and the rockets flying between Iran and Israel, and the Houthis in Yemen lofting high explosives in ballistic trajectories on merchant shipping in the Red Sea, which led to the discussion about the situation of the Canals that join world oceans in Denmark, Suez and Panama.

That issue appealed to the Old Salts in the circle, since the problems with the ditch at Suez is affecting world commerce, and similar problems are reported in Panama on the canal some of our relatives helped dig. So, Vapor started with a quick run through on the attempt by Daniel Ortega to pitch to dig a new Canal across Nicaragua to the Chinese. The route had been under discussion since before we dug the one in Panama more than a century ago, but there are problems with traffic and fresh water to operate the locks due to draught. So, there is all sorts of stuff on the world oceans to talk about.

That was the diplomatic stuff, like the events at the UN in New York that Vapor was attempting to deal with. He started out the Thursday Production Meeting with a sort of dry account of the two wars he is following.

“Yesterday was big,” he said with a scowl. “Bob Wood, our alternate representative for special political affairs at the Security Council, vetoed a draft resolution at the Security Council meeting to ban sending antipersonnel landmines to Ukraine.”

“Wait,” said DeMille, hasn’t there been a ban in place since 2022? And a treaty since the late 1990’s? Isn’t this actually an attempt shore up Ukraine’s defenses against Russian small-squad operations in the Dnepr River valley? And why did we support it the last time?” He honestly seemed puzzled.

Vapor unlocked himself after another swig of Chock Full O’ Nuts from the white mug in front of him. “It is that delicate balance thing. The outgoing Administration told the Ukes they could launch the short range ATACMS we gave them to hit Russian targets. Then they used ‘em and couple got through. The Brits joined the party with permission for Zelenskyy to use the Storm Shadow rockets they had just provided.”

“That is another escalation. So, is this now a NATO war against Russia? Or a prelude for advantage in an armistice?”

Splash laughed. “Did you see this morning? The Russians said they might consider a strike against US air bases in Poland. Then they fired a long range ICBM into Ukraine. Not a nuke, of course, but now we have rockets flying east that can’t quite hit Moscow, and Moscow responding with weapons that could hit New York. Or Washington.”

Melissa raised a hand to assert her turf. “That makes it a local story we can use in the Fifteen Minute County series, right?” There was more general laughter at the idea that the nuclear warfare we had served careers to prevent was not happening all at once but like the slow cranking of a wrench handle to change a tire.

She looked apprehensively across the picnic table at Kristina, who was assigned the actual local stuff that wasn’t connected to the world ocean or the two wars. She had a sheaf of stories about the transition in Arlington and. waved her tablet with a picture of a white truck. It had the words “The Shredding Company” in a blue oval on the side.

“This was in the Examiner this morning. They say it is parked in front of the Department of Justice over at 950 Pennsylvania Ave. They say there is a lot of shredding going on to ensure everything is clean when the new people come in.” She put the pad down and looked up. “DoJ is only 19 minutes from here by electric scooter, so it is in my portfolio.”

“We all shred stuff! Exclaimed Vic with a snort. “The Chairman has one come by on a quarterly basis just for Socotra House.” He blew a cloud of smoke as he ground out a Marlboro Ultra Light 100 in the aluminum ashtray next to his mug.

There was some general nodding around the table. Then, the Chinese merchant ship thing came up.

That was the story at which Rocket, Splash and Vapor had been tugging at the edges. Splash started: “The Danes had discovered the ship had dragged it anchor across two separate data cables in the Baltic Sea. It was similar to the cable damage reported last year, and sparked a fifteen-minute conversation about whether they were attempting assist the Russians, hurt the Ukrainians, hinder NATO in a forthcoming general European war. Or just help themselves get the money to buy a new canal some place.

We agreed that would be news we could understand. And then we talked about having the Door Dash guy with his scooter stop by the El Paso restaurant over on Pershing and deliver some tasty carne asadas and a bucket or two of Dos Equis. We think you need to keep priorities straight.

DeMille said that was more stuff than would fit in any of the buckets that came with lunch, so more on that stuff tomorrow, assuming there is one. That has been a persistent theme in our lives, but it never had the sort of intimate immediacy it does at the moment, you know?

We aren’t even sure if it is a local or a national issue! We will keep you posted.

Copyright 2024 Vic Socotra
www.vicscotra.com

Written by Vic Socotra