Splash was up early and went outside in the pre-dawn. The local temperature sensor claimed it was 22 degrees, fully ten below freezing under clear skies. Whatever that drone thing is that appears in the evening sky still blinked prominently to the east as the real stars faded in the growing light. He closed the door to the Bunk Room with a modestly assertive “thunk,” and put his tablet device down on the counter as part of the coffee ritual.

Loma was having none of it. He called softly from his bunk: “News. Just give us the headlines before I touch the floor.”

Splash laughed, already upright and mobile. “The inflation rate was announced by the Bureau of Labor Statistics. I guess they didn’t get the same memo the jobs people got. Last week. BLS says inflation is 7.5%, or two tenths of a percentage higher than yesterday. Highest in 40 years.”

“Well that is nonsense,” came the voice muffled by a smudged white eiderdown. “I was almost thirty then and don’t remember a thing about it.”

“You don’t remember much about last week. Plus, we now have a former economist in the Section and we could ask for a professional view on the situation.”

There was a muffled expletive from the cot jammed in next to Rocket to accommodate the new arrival. “Doesn’t seem like Buck is on top of his game this morning.” That was the comment from Melissa, who had emerged from the gender-affirmational-but-not-specific wing of the sleeping quarters. “I had a one-year-old then and was pregnant again. I took a calculator on the big weekly trip out to the Giant to see how I could stretch sixty bucks to feed the family for a week. I don’t recall much else about that. Who was the President?”

“Reagan, I think. But at the beginning. We were all just starting out and we all lived through it.”

“You mention “presidents. That would be a hot topic around here, since our Congresswoman claims the current POTUS is coming right here to Culpeper County today to explain about why prescription drugs are so expensive.”

“Yeah. We have had a bunch of Presidents visit here because we are the nearest rural area to the Capitol. Washington surveyed downtown. Teddy Roosevelt liked it down here. And LBJ is supposed to have had a mistress in that little village just west of town. Apparently they broke up under the stress of having an illicit relationship while in the White House.”

“It would seem that some things never change. They probably didn’t say when or where the President was going then. Exactly the same on this visit. They had the announcement but didn’t say when or where in the County it would be. Seems like they don’t want a crowd.”

“Knock it off. That will get the lawyer stirred up. Let’s just hope that the helicopter works all right, the teleprompter works, and they leave the rest of us alone.”

“I don’t remember many Presidential visits to Detroit when I was growing up,” said Loma. “We had a nice view of the water from down-river. Did you hear there is trouble at the Ambassador Bridge?”

“That is a good bridge. Supposed to be one of the most traveled international crossing points in the world. Are they having trucker troubles?”

“Yeah. Apparently all the Fascist and Confederate Canadians are attempting to overthrow the government by sitting in their big rigs listening to cassette-era tunes on their radios.”

“It isn’t just the Ambassador Bridge. The big crossing at Coutts, Alberta out west is jammed up. And back in Michigan the bridge at Port Huron that crosses the northern part of the Detroit River is having trouble.”

“The Blue Water Bridge? That was a good ride, back in the day. Want a headache? They have one where it crosses from Michigan to Ontario’s Point Edward and Sarnia.” Buck’s voice trailed off and the Writer’s Section was confused since they were mostly blue water sailors in places that have no bridges and more salt.

Sensing the discontinuity, Buck pushed back the knitted afghan in which he had been cloaked against the breaking morning. “The Blue Water Bridge spans the St. Clair River, and is located near the I-94 and I-69 interchange in Michigan. It is a critical gateway linking Canada and the United States. The auto industry in both countries depends on it for the delivery of parts to the assembly plants.” The tempo of his words was increasing, reflecting parts of his scholarly brain awakening. “Most people don’t realize that if truck drivers had “tanked” during the height of the Covid crisis there would have been shortages of food and other basic commodities needed for modern daily life. Even a 5% – 10% reduction in industry capacity would have created chaos.”

Rocket was awake now as well, and agitated. “I had to make an extra stop at the Walmart to try to find chicken wings. The Giant store was out, and I have sworn to prepare wings for the Superbowl party on Sunday. Who ever heard of chicken shortages?”

Buck was almost back to full professorial diction. “The Ambassador and the Blue Water Bridges are critical not only to chicken transport but to automotive assembly operations in both countries. Even a mild slow down on those bridges swill significantly reduce daily car production.”

He paused to take a steaming cup of (Redacted) coffee. From Splash “A shut down for more than a few hours would be devastating. Parts on the Canadian side shipping to Detroit/Toledo area assembly plants often depart the suppliers in Canada only hours before the parts are needed for production in the US, and vice versa. Truckers could deliver a one-two punch to the automotive industry if they forced the closure at those bridges.”

“The folks in Ottawa are freaking out. They are comparing the trucker strike to the 1/6 Insurrection in Washington.”

“Strange, isn’t it? But it is interesting about the demographics of the truck driver population. They have a disproportionately high percent of people with co-morbidities that contribute to COVID fatalities. The average driver tends to be old, often overweight, often smokes, and eats road food. You would think that would be part of the discussion on comorbidities.”

“Logic has not had a lot of participation in all this. The truckers drove through the flurry of the worst part of the pandemic, out there with no protection or special accommodation. Single drivers isolated in their cabs with few problems.”

“They may be alone in the truck, but there is a ton of interaction with people at origin and at delivery. Also, fuel, meal, and other stops on the road cause more interaction than sensible people like us who just stayed on The Farm.”

“Well, regardless of what you thought about the Mandates and shut-downs, we are in a new place now that the pandemic seems to have passed. Whether you think vaccine mandates right or wrong, if the government forces the mandates onto truck drivers there will be things like the Ottawa convoy. Supply chain problems due to lack of food, medicine, and other basic commodities will get everyone energized now that the crisis is over. You mentioned the inflation numbers, but unrest is going to cause freight rates to double. And truck high-jackings will increase like they have with the trains. That is why the people who thought mandates were great are now saying we can get back to normal.”

“Normal? I don’t remember exactly what that was. But the Government seems to like emergency rule. It is a lot easier.”

“Just wait. I suspect they like it a little too much. Just wait until the next emergency.”
“Oh yeah, wasn’t there supposed to be a land war in Europe or something?” asked Melissa with a mischievous smile.

“You would be surprised by the number of emergencies we are going to be dealing with,” said Buck, and then he laid back on his cot, pulled up the afghan to his chin and grinned.

Copyright 2022 Vic Socotra
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