Greenhouse Gas Shortage
Pray for … CO2!
Rain, too!
By Stephen L. Wilmeth
BJ called this morning in a
fluster.
At issue was his ranch truck
wouldn’t start. In that he had two new batteries, it wasn’t a matter of lack of
starting power. It was what he found that was unsettling. It appeared one of
the cable terminals had been beaten with a hammer or a rock and broken off from
the terminal. Yes, the truck had been parked out in the pasture, and, yes, that
is a normal and customary requirement on a ranch, but who on earth would pull
such a stunt?
An unfamiliar vehicle wasn’t seen. Tracks
around the truck were obvious, but we have had our little cowboy crew with us
for the past week and they make lots of tracks to add to our own. As a matter
of default, we looked southward toward the border. That may or may not be the
source, but where and how the truck has been parked leaves fewer alternatives
save those individuals who adhere to the belief that extractive industries are
not welcome on these lands.
So, the mystery remains, but one
thing is sure. In every direction we look, our world only appears to be on a
collision course toward more contentiousness.
Pray for … CO2
There is an induced CO2 shortage.
Yessiree, there is a shortage of
this terroristic greenhouse gas. Just about the time many of us were thinking
about investing in eastern Alberta prairie land on the hedge that CO2 will
render it le miaulement du chat for
future Pima cotton plantings, this bit of set back hits us. What deepens the
conundrum is the fact that the equally suspicious capitalistic and
environmental barbarians who manufacture fertilizers are the main culprits.
It seems that northern latitude
farmers are doing such a good job minimizing inputs that plants are shutting
down as a result of adequate seasonal supplies. The outcome is byproduct
(compressed) CO2 is not being produced in adequate quantities for its demand.
The problem is so bad that in
England as many as 20,000 pubs are beginning to experience stoppages in beer
production. Heineken’s John Smith’s Extra Smooth and Amstel kegs have already
been hit. That company’s management is reported to be working furiously with
customers to minimize disruptions and expected rioting if the problem is not
solved. Looming ever larger is the increasing demand that is expected as the
stretch run of the World Cup plays out.
“We’d be concerned this is not the
time to go looking for a white van man who says (he) can supply (us) with gas,”
said a spokesperson contemplating the soccer riots (interestingly, there was
nothing said about a black van man).
On the undercard, though, it isn’t
just the drunken suds crew who will be facing hardships. Since compressed CO2
stun guns are almost universally now used in the poultry, beef, and hog
businesses, protein shortages are expected to increase. The British Poultry
Council is reporting that up to 60% of poultry processing plants “could be
knocked out within days” as this greenhouse gas shortage ensues.
Interestingly, nothing is being heard
from the childhood nutrition advocates. Their handlers are apparently asleep at
the helm. It was only beer that garnered center stage in the debate. Not even
the Vatican seems to have its antenna raised about the children in the aftermath of the greenhouse gas shortage.
It makes one wonder about the whole
business of paid advocacy, doesn’t it?
Rain, too!
Before we get on to shortages of
most pressing local and regional concerns, it is important to note that only
one CO2 plant is still operating on the European mainland, and it is not
producing nearly enough to satisfy demand. Oh, yes, there are plants operating
in southern Europe including the outposts of Hungary and Romania, but politics
preclude those sources from entering into the proper northern European markets.
It seems the outposts can’t navigate the regulatory obstacle course imposed by
the gasless countries as dictated by their environmental gestapos.
Regulatory suffocation does have
consequences.
So, the UK has a looming beer
drought, but we are equally at risk. We are in the throes of yet another
regular, tedious monsoonal drought. We need rain!
The forecast for an early monsoon
is going up in smoke and dust and the 0-3-month forecast for above average
moisture for our area is starting to drift westward. We are so used to that
scenario that it isn’t unexpected, but it had felt so good to expect something
out of the ordinary.
In the meantime, we will try to
gather our families for part of the day on the 4th if our waters are
not in need of attention. We will smile a half smile and hope that a monsoonal
surprise will visit us just like memories of long ago July 4th rodeo
performances in Silver City when it was still largely a hat town and simply a great
place live. It was there, without fail, toward the beginning of the calf roping
in the afternoon performance that the skies would open and the first summer
rain would fall. Everything would stop, the mounted cowboys would remove their
hats, lift their barren faces to the sky, and the entire crowd would hoot and
holler. The announcer would join, and everybody would breath that wonderful
smell of summer rain on a parched land a mile above sea level on the floor at
the Sheriff’s Posse Arena.
By no means is there any suggestion
that beer wasn’t flowing around town, and, yes, the afternoon thunder storm
seemed to stimulate consumption thereof, but there was never a hint of a riot.
The labels of Falstaff, Lonestar, Pearl, Schlitz, and Coors were variously
sampled for strict quality assurances, but any fisticuffs were not related to
shortages.
Westerners don’t riot. We’ve never
relied upon mobs to do our bidding.
Stephen
L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “Yes, pray for rain!”
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