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The
Distributor
MGCCWDCC Logo by Nelson Wilson
Club President

THE DISTRIBUTOR

It’s mid-morning on a hot July 7th. The year is 2188. Three men are having a conversation while standing near an old Starbuck’s drive-up center in a deteriorating parking lot in the metropolis of Ashburn, Virginia. The center overlooks the site of the soon-to-be constructed extension of the DC Metro Orange Line. Two of the men have thinning, silver hair. The third appears to be much younger and is energetically trying to make a point.

The young man, named PTG23b (or Pb for short), is saying “Like, I have visited many thousands of, like, sites on the intergalactic internet concerning, like, ancient petroleum-fueled ground transportation units from the mid-to-late 20th and early 21st centuries. Many of these units had imperfect designs and required, like, continuous servicing and frequent repairs.” He pauses for a minute and gazes at a woman and her children in a 2179 Starflight LX speeding by with its nuclear processors sounding quite out of sync. “Even in recent years,” he says, “units like that LX require servicing after only a decade. It’s, like, pitiful.”

JNX23c, one of the older men, tells Pb, “The LX is a pretty reliable and popular ground unit. In another 20 years that woman’s LX will be collectable. I had one when I was a youngster and it was a real chick electromagnet. I wish I still had that unit.” He sighs deeply. “I understand there are groups of individuals who refurbish them and gather together periodically to cruise along the secondary roads in less-populated areas like Iowa and the Dakotas. I wouldn’t mind going cruising with a group like that in my old LX.”

Pb replies, “Those things are boring, man. Give me a new Gyrospecter 390C. The speedometers on 390C’s don’t even, like, start to register until you get to Mach I. If you are willing to pay, like, $180.00 in tolls, you can take a 390C on the super cruiseways and make it from here to New York City in less than 90 minutes. Power and speed, that’s what gets my, like, juices flowing. And, you don’t have to get any gyro lubricant under your fingernails because the dealer will, like, replace the gyro for you if it shows any wear. Of course, that isn’t likely to happen for at least 25 years. You just get in those things and go. No fuss, no muss.” Pb glances at his chronometer, suddenly realizing he is late for work. “Oh, man, look at the time. I’ve got to go. See ya!” With that, Pb hops onto his Dynacycle, fires up the jet packs and, with a wooshing sound, speeds out of sight.

JNX23c shakes his head and says to his old friend, DDB45a, “Kids! They have no appreciation for the classics. I spent hours cleaning and polishing my old Starflight LX when I was Pb’s age. It was a real beauty and would blow the afterburners off anything on the cruiseway when I had it running right. Of course, it took a lot of time working on the power unit to make it go like that. But, it was fun. That was when you could work on power units. Today, the units are so sophisticated and complex that you can’t even find the solar transponders let alone adjust them. I miss the good old days.” Just then, a public transporter pulls up in front of the Starbuck’s. JNX23c says, “I’d better catch this ride or I’ll have to wait another 2 hours for the next one. Good seeing you again, Da. Have a good weekend!”

Da smiles and says, “I plan to! You enjoy yours as well.” He stands there for a while and watches the transporter disappear down the cruiseway. Da is on vacation and doesn’t have to return to work until early August. He smiles again, and with a far away look in his eyes, walks slowly around to the back of Starbuck’s.

Behind Starbucks, Da’s russet brown 1980 MGB roadster with vanity plates that say “B-DAZZLD” is sparkling in the sunshine. Petrofuel is very expensive in 2188 but it is required if Da is to drive the MG and, so, he doesn’t worry about the cost. His fuel tank is full. He tuned the engine, checked the tires and engine oil, and added oil to his carburetor before leaving his home pod. He slides into the driver’s seat, turns the starter key and sits there for a few moments listening to the distinctive purr of the MG’s engine. Then he pulls spiritedly onto the cruiseway, headed west and staying, of course, in the right hand lane. Da, smiling broadly and whistling golden oldies from his past, will meet several other members of the MGCCWDCC along the way. They are heading for North Dakota….


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