We had a joyous New Year’s day down on The Farm. Many folks across this broad and fertile land managed to pass it by without a great deal of emotion. The Writer’s Section at Socotra House took it with aplomb. There used to be a party held by the Office of Management and Budget people on the afternoon of the first day of the new Fiscal Year, whichever it was, and yesterday would have been perfect. A Friday, so the passing of an old and fractious year with delightful crisp weather and a weekend to adjust with a couple drinks before heading home would have bundled all that frantic activity into a sensible legislative package.

But of course, it wasn’t. Splash set the tone as he waved his tablet gracefully above his grizzled hair with one hand and rubbed his unshaven chin. He punctuated his remarks by banging his electronic device against the gray stones of the Fire Pit. “So, look, I tried to follow the four big deals yesterday. The Fiscal Year was dead at midnight on Thursday. There was the simple matter of putting together a Continuing Resolution to keep the checks going, and adjusting the Budget Ceiling so we could take on more debt, and then the two crazy wish lists they keep separate by calling them “Little Crazy” and “Big Crazy.”

“They are both about infrastructure. You know, highways, bridges and airports.” DeMille was trying to keep a lid on Splash, a gentle one, but he had been out in the woods for a while, and some of the budget matters are a little complex.

“But I keep hearing about free stuff.” Splash let go of his tablet after it glanced off a stone rounded by thousands of years rolling around in several streams. “I am in a little bit of rough patch at the moment.”

“The free child care will help you out, we are sure” grumbled Loma. “But what you could use is the free dental care.”

“But lemme get this straight. There was a crisis as big as World War Two that required us all to go into house arrest, wear masks that don’t work, and distrust our neighbors unless they show loyalty to the government.”

“Seems kind of strange.”

“Here is how strange it is. We spend more on something we call ‘Defense’ than any other nation of earth. This year, I heard they added $24 Billion to what we spent the year before even though the twenty-year war was over. The bill was three quarters of a Trillion bucks.”

“Yeah. So what?”

“I couldn’t find it.”

DeMille poked at his smart phone for a while. “Congressman Adam Smith of Washington State introduced it back at the beginning of July. He is chairman of the House Armed Services Committee. It was then jumbled around for a while in the background. Last week, the House Clerk was authorized to…” he turned the oblong device in his hands to get a closer view and continued. “To correct section numbers, punctuation, and cross references, and to make other necessary technical and conforming corrections in the engrossment of House Resolution 4350.”

“It sounds gross. Is that what they call it?”

“Yeah. 24 roll-call votes on HR4350 so far.”

“On what are they voting?”

Rocket looked ethereal. “The National Defense Authorization Act, or the NDAA as it is fondly known on the Hill, is what’s known as an “authorization of appropriations.” It is a two-part deal. The NDAA sets a funding level, but it doesn’t actually provide any funding. The money comes later, via the Defense Appropriations Bill. Along with setting the funding limit, the NDAA is a heavy policy-making bill. That is, it is full of changes as to how the DoD implements certain programs or undertakes operations.”

“That is what we always waited for at the change of the fiscal year. Where the hell is this most of a Trillion dollars this morning? I got asked this week by someone who does business with the DoD and I couldn’t tell them.”

“It is just policy crap. This year they claimed they were going to creation of the Space Force, significant changes to the military justice system, the question of undocumented illegal aliens serving in the military, the DoD’s position on transgender troops and making women register for the Draft.”

“You gotta be kidding me. Every one of those things seems to be worth discussion. You would think the ladies might be curious.”

“Not this year. But you know the best part?”

Several faces turned toward Loma with questioning eyes. Loma continued. “And I had no idea where it is, or who is going to vote on the appropriations part, or when.”

“It is only most of a trillion bucks. In the meantime we need to worry about the big stuff, like fundamentally transforming the United States.”

“Well, I suppose that is worth talking about. What are they going to transform us into?”

“Apparently they are not going to tell us. They have to decide how many trillions to spend before they tell us what they are going to spend it on.”

“When they get done with that will they tell us about the Defense budget?”

“We are not sure. But they have in the past.”

There was general laughter around the Fire Pit, and Splash had to ask what day of the week it was. It is Saturday, we assured him with some confidence. Sunday can be a show-stopper, since the distillery is closed.

Copyright 2021 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com