The Writer’s Section had some wistful smiles this morning, since it looks like the hurricane is going to hit New England rather than the Old Dominion. The smiles were a bit thin, perhaps, given all the other stuff we are supped to be worried about. But Marlow’s piece from his Coastal Empire this morning brought back memories of the animals we all cared for in parts of our lives. The ones with whom we had real connections. Real adventures on walks and tossing things that would be returned with enthusiasm. That would be the dogs, of course. We agreed we never had much luck with our feline allies fetching anything except mice. But their elegant detachment was always a sort of inspirational.

Anyway, we decided to not talk about the one disaster unfolding now, since it is multifaceted. It is extraordinary, far away and so tightly wound up in the events of what used to pass as our professional lives that it still causes a muscle-memory jerk. But ignoring that problem had the unfortunate residual imperative of driving a group of old crisis junkies into talking about unexpected side effects stemming from unanticipated emergencies.

There was an unexpected source of rare and authoritative information present. It was provided by a strange visitor to the group whose truck was naturally parked near the loading dock. He was the survey technician present to survey the location of the whole-farm back-up propane generator now due for installation at the end of the month.

By name, he is Rodney. He is a large man only somewhat gone to seed after his four years in the Marine Corps as a younger fellow. Still an imposing presence with shaved head and inadvertent beard. He felt at home in the circle, and conversation turned to one of the aspects of the project, which was location for the 500-gallon propane tank. Used as advertised, the scheme would provide electricity for the working areas of the estate for a week, and the pic turned to what emergency management thought they were preparing for.

Rodney was used to the usual precautionary preparations, which would be some storm-related problem with the electric coop whose lines run adjacent to the country lane across the western neck of the property. His ideas were supported by experience with power outages of unexpected duration. His audience was accustomed to that sort of planning, while the two Interns assigned to listen to the conversation listened a bit slack-jawed at what toehold timers were thinking. Duration of supply was a natural topic of interest, and whether a capacity for whole property operations was subject to conservation to extend some necessary functions into an indeterminate future.

“You say a week’s use for 500 gallons. Suppose we cut down on usage to things like the well-head pump and the freezer, with a decent charge on the phones?”

“That could extend use for some period of time. I am not sure with any precision, since you would have to exercise the capability once the installation is complete and see what works.”

Loma was engaged. “Yeah, but even extending supply for another week will require re-supply from the propane dealer. Suppose there is a problem with their network, like what happened when the Colonial Gas pipeline got shut down?”

“You are confusing two issues. After my time on active duty I was involved with one of the suppliers, and that pipeline used to go down a couple times a day just in normal operations. This time, the word got out that there was a gas shortage impending, and people rushed out to top off their tanks and stock up another couple jugs of gas to make sure they could get by. That is what caused the shortage, even more than the problem with distribution.”

“So you mean panic is part of the situation? Why on earth are they trying to keep us worked up all the time?”

“It is the only way emergency rule works. Otherwise people would shrug and just get on with things. Now, if you have power covered for at least a little while, how are you stocked for food?”

Loma leaned back with a smile. We suspect he may have ordered a case of MRE’s in the last crisis and stashed it someplace for later distribution on his terms. Others tried to recall if any of that case of Kraft macaroni and cheese was still in the garage. There had been a tumult when management announced that all that canned stuff had passed expiration date due to the purchase shortly after the economic flail in 2008. There was some mild discussion about that hole in the supply change, and a modest decision to lay in a couple cases of protein bars, just in case. Edible, non-toxic, requires no cooking, and new shelf life that won’t expire until the verge of the crisis after the next crisis.

Rodney got up to check the terrain between the prospective tank emplacement site near the gravel turn-around and the generator that will require excavation. With his source of usable information departed, the conversation opened up beyond food to other necessities that seem to vanish first in prospective supply chain disruptions. Rocket knew how it would normally work. “The key,” he said with chin up “is to have enough to get through supply chain breakdown due to panic. This is a big and resilient country and we can adapt. But panic buying and hoarding can cause shortfalls that have nothing to do with what is actually going on. We should have enough to get by, and wait for things to get back to normal.”

DeMille gave us a thin smile, since the nature of “normalcy” has been a frequent topic of interest. “I think Rocket is on to something. The problem is not knowing how long the panic phase will last. Some are pointing to early-to-mid September as having some flash points. Like, suppose inter-state travel is restricted to people who have been fully vaccinated? They are already talking about a booster shot necessary for new strains of the COVID virus. That would take us all back to square one, and with a medical criteria never before attempted.”

“That is a problem with emergency rule, isn’t it?” Then someone lit up a Marlboro, took a puff and shook the pack. The loose slapping sound reminded us we would be done with the problem of second-hand smoke, or, someone would want to borrow the truck and visit the Smoke Shack before the crisis started. “I wonder if we should have planted some tobacco last spring?”

The idea that anyone except the Interns were capable of traditional stoop-labor was a sobering one, and raised other preparations the group had allowed Belmont Farms to take care of in non-crisis periods. That prompted formation of some working groups to examine specific areas of vulnerability in the supply chain. But their deliberations will happen after lunch, which as far as we know, is still going to be available.

No panic on that. Not yet, anyway.

Copyright 2021 Vic Socotra
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