Activity started early this Sunday. Those who unashamedly practice devotion to their Faith on this day of the week were up early and had shaved or donned fresh frocks, depending on what or who they were identifying on this delightful morning. They were the first to see the Police lights illuminating the intersection down below the Chairman’s new HQ out in Tysons.

Blue Lights in the morning normally mean something from Saturday Night in NoVA hasn’t quite been rectified. Or it could mean the outbreak of a GenZ crisis, like the one going on in Mexico this morning as young citizens who stayed there loudly protest the Cartel power that stands as the middle trader in the drug wars. Or the ones here who just elected Mayors in New York and Seattle.

That is all relayed by our electronic devices, of course, and the lights down below the window are quite real and very close. Miles was third into the Conference Room this morning. Vapor and Melissa had got in first- no comment on extracurriculars- to ensure that AJ made the bagel delivery and things were ready for a productive day getting ready for the Holidays. Melissa had vocally announced she expect food cooked by someone else for a change, so those details were just some of the questions in the air.

After we sorted out what the lights were about. Miles took a sip of coffee and asked Splash to go down and find out if it was an early accident or something we ought to be aware of. He returned in short order, waving his device with a small glowing screen featuring a comic Turkey figure.

“The Cop was out of his car, but he as not directing traffic or apprehending anyone of interest. He just seemed to be waiting with the lights on. When he smiled and waved me away, I saw two people running toward me. Not jogging. Running.”

“Running away from something?” asked Rocket, blinking with the possibility of having to actually get up and do something.

Splash brushed his goatee and laughed. “Nope It is the Rotary Turkey Trot. If you want to cheer from the sidewalk, they will be coming past for another half hour or so. They want to get folks get primed for the feast next week.” Melissa looked a little concerned about whether her abrogation of Turkey duties had taken effect. Splash knew there was some concern in the air, so he turned his device toward the small group at the table. Small letters blared:

“The Tysons Rotary 5K Turkey Trot Run/Walk raises funds for local charities in the Tysons area and Northern Virginia. Since 1983, the Tysons Rotary Club has strived to make a positive difference in the Tysons area by providing hands-on services and monetary contributions to local charities. Our focus is on assisting children, the aging, and people in crisis.”

There were some uneasy glances around the table as Zack and Billie strolled in, hoping to grab a quick breakfast and go look for monetary contributions to the sundry sad circumstances of the morning. “There is plenty of crisis out there,” said Billie and leaned against Zack for support.

Splash waved his device back into a pocket after another click. “The runners will only be coming by for a half hour or so, so, but the activities in the park go on until lunch.”

Miles leaned back with a smile. “Enjoy your morning, Gang. After lunch, I am going to parse out the assignments for pre-holiday production. We have the “Letters to the World’ manuscript to hammer out, plus the “Long Shadows” resurrection-and-collaboration project with Artificial Intelligence, and the regular Dailies that are supposed to be pulled together in “The Fifteen Minute Count” we are supposed to make Arlington life shorter and funnier.”

“Maybe we can just spout a few cogent human observations into the screen ad have the machine search the archives for copyright material we own to connect it all.”

“That should suffice to fill this morning.” said Miles. “if the race started at 8:00 AM, and the activities in the park are a fantastic opportunity to support local charities that make a significant impact in the Tysons area and Northern Virginia.”

There was some nodding and a stretch or two at the table. Vic leaned forward in his foldable, light wheelchair. “Brings back memory of 4 Honolulu trots, plus one down in Jacksonville and two Marine Corps trots right here in the nation’s capital.”

Splash stood to take action. “The cop turned off his lights and the patrol car has pulled away. A Fairfax County white pick-up just came through, headed north pulling a trailer now filled with traffic cones. I presume the trot is complete.”

Vic was still yawning but seemed to be coming alert. “I intend to walk again!” he said, reaching for the creamer to mix a Flat Yank sweet coffee. “Maybe the Trot next year. I have done plenty of those things!” He lifted his own device and clicked on the file “General Library, Pictures 1982.” He held up the screen with a thin smile.

The picture caused general laughter from the Boomer and GenX people. They were already getting ready to head over to the Park and hoping for lunch.

Miles waved everyone off. “For now, I am just hoping to get through next week. They are already talking about the next Government shut-down in January, so at least we can give thanks that won’t happen until next year!”

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