So the snow of yesterday has gone. It was slushy for a few hours, but the streets were clear enough, even if people were panicked.
 
The City is getting a little punch-drunk with the white stuff. We normally get one or two snowfalls a season, and it is a matter of high emotion and anticipation. Most of the people at the office call in, saying they are “working from home,” if there is any accumulation at all.
 
It was about fifty percent yesterday, and there is already talk about a monster storm that is headed this way for tomorrow.
 
They say it will start at noon. Could slide either way by a few hours. Could be more than a foot. That is right after- we hope- Rex’s interment.
 
Snow or not, life must go on.
 
Jinny got her rental car, at the Enterprise office over at Ballston. Queer thing, that. There was a big sign on the wall that read: “Unlimited mileage for travel in the DELMARVA area,” and some small print about a special surcharge for states outside that. Not that she is going to be doing a lot of driving here, based on the snow that is supposed to dump on us again.
 
I was hovering, trying to be useful, and asked if they had GPS tracking loaded on he cars. Pablo was our guy, and he launched into a sort of tortured explanation of policy and finally the supervisor looked up and said:
 
“We can’t track you. Not yet, anyway.”
 
I made a note that I could rent a car and drive to Michigan and back, unlimited, for the moment, but the Supervisor looked contemplative. “Of course, if you get stopped by the cops the car can be impounded. Insurance.”
 
I nodded. It all comes down to stuff like that, a sort of credit swap cover for our little affairs. Life has its little complexities, doesn’t it?
 
In the meantime, I had to get over to the Pentagon to do some in-processing on a contract we won. I filled out forms and then was sitting and waiting like the other sides of beef down in the office adjacent to the Visitor’s Center. The Badge Office has one of those take-a-number automated dispensers like the DMV, and the government employees were on the speed list and the rest of us slimy contractors could take our sweet time.
 
I might have waited for an hour or more, but it was OK. I was going to bill the government for my time anyway.
 
I checked e-mail on the smart phone, which isn’t. I saw that the Artful Logger had his plane reservations cancelled, then re-booked. Earl and the family were somewhere en route form Florida, and so was Larry from California.
 
We were near critical mass. Rex has been here for weeks and weeks, and the time is almost at hand when the Departments of the Army and Navy have the resources to render him the appropriate honors.
 
I clicked on the next message.
 
Admiral Mac was working the case on weather policy for funerals at Arlington, checking to see if the funeral would go ahead in the event of a blizzard. The Army people said it was up to the family, and a check of the progress on the front suggested that the first flakes would be coming down around the time of the presentation of the flag. I was thinking about the kids in the honor guard, and the placid kind horses who draw the caisson, starting off a busy Friday in the snow with a dozen funerals to cover.
 
I clicked to the next message, which informed me that I had too many messages in the queue and I was going to be blocked from any more transmissions until I archive everything somewhere else on my hard disk.
 
There wasn’t a damned thing I could do about that in the Badge Office, and shrugged. There was a subcontracting issue that needed to be worked, and the lovely Russian lady who used to do that- she has the coolest voice I have ever heard on the phone- got a better opportunity elsewhere and left the company. I was cut off until I happened to be back in the office again.
 
There are many worse things that can happen, and at the moment the weather is on the top of the chart.
 
There are several downstream events that could be affected; the reception, of course, and the dinner tomorrow night, and Jinny has plans to visit old friends over the weekend.
 
Those could be a challenge with another foot of snow on the ground, but we shall see, won’t we? I am keeping my fingers crossed on that one. I can talk about it with Larry and the Artful Logger at the bar tonight.
 
Unless the snow comes early, of course.

Copyright 2010 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Subscribe to the RSS feed!