OK, it is October, the 10th month in this strange year. This is the tenth day of the tenth month. Even the letter “O” looks like a zero. The Writer’s Section at Socotra House naturally is befuddled. That is aggravated by the fact that this 10/10 is happening on a Sunday, an artificial oddity in the week of days that all end in the letter “Y.” The local distillery is closed, the churches are open, the mosques and temples are not, for their own reasons. You can imagine all those elements fit together in a joyful collision of affirmation. Splash stirred about an hour later than usual. The coffee had been made on schedule. And thus the conversation began.

“Ten-Ten, the International Amateur Radio Operator’s Net, or 10-10 for short, is determined to maintain a high level of amateur radio communications on the 28.0-29.7 Megahertz spectrum. Since 1962, 10-10 has grown continuously with some ups and downs.”

“You mean what happened in Dallas in 1963?”

“No, I mean the impending grand minimum of sunspots and the openness of the transmission band. I am proud to be one of over 77,000 amateur radio license holders with 10-meter privileges. All ten days a week.”

“Are you aware of how many ones-and-zeros are in that statement? Wouldn’t it be easier to say it is a double good-looking person?”

“That would be a demonstration of able-ism. Or look-ism. Or being able to count to seven. I am not sure how you are supposed to say it these days.”
“It is Sunday. Why don’t we agree to speak standard English for a while until we all wake up. Then we can try speaking modern English again.”

There was the usual mumble of skepticism under gray skies that occasionally produced falling moisture. Those around the fire pit grumbled, while there was a guffaw from those already seated on the Loading Dock. Some up there were already on their third cup of Joe, a traditional term for a warm caffeinated beverage that should not be held over the lap of the consumer.

“We are not going to talk about stimulating beverages this early, and much as we like stimulants, there is something better. But later. If you start too early on that stuff no one can speak any sort of English.”

“Why don’t we talk about what is in the Build Back Better legislation? That could go on for a while.”

“Why? They are not talking about it on the Hill. Every day we hear more about what’s in it, and it gets better and better.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.”

“Try it in the new English,” said DeMille, waving his tablet around. “Listen to this: everyone gets three months off a year for family business. We all have families, you know.”

There was a general look of befuddlement, since we thought 30-days paid leave was a pretty good benefit for military folks. Of course, they never let us actually take it. DeMille frowned briefly, mashed the screen in his hand and read out loud the turbocharged child tax credit from yesterday. He concluded by folding the leather cover back over the screen, saying “That will help discourage work and cost a $ Trillion bucks. Today’s is even more awesome, since all you need is a family, and many of us have one.”

“We could actually be one, if the women would come down and join us. What does that one do?”

“Careful, we run out of old English at noon, so things will get complicated by trying to pretend there aren’t two general kinds of us. Paid family and medical leave, which could theoretically involve all 56 genders. Twelve weeks a year, or a week off every month. It is supposed to help low-income workers but actually applies to everyone who is alive and has a family.”

“Wouldn’t that cost a bunch? And who is supposed to pay for it?”

“The Wall Street Journal says the whole mess of things isn’t $3.5 Trillion. It is more like five-and-a-half Ts, and it renews every ten years. And that is taxpayers, which is why it is free.”

“10-10,” said Splash. “And it goes on forever.”

“That is the kind of renewable I can get behind,” said Rocket with emphasis. “But the best part is that we don’t even talk about what is in the bill anymore. Our elected folks have to pass it to find out what is in it, and by then it is actually law.”

Loma sighed. “No one pays much attention to that any more. I am going back to bed. Let me know when the future gets here.”

DeMille put his tablet down on the concrete next to the steel lip of the Dock. “Problem is there is another feature in the bill. Every day is going to be Monday.”

Only Splash managed to laugh. “Ten days a week!”

Copyright 2021 Vic Socotra
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