The Collapse CXXXX: Presentation

12 July 20XX +1

My Dear Lucilius:

The meeting happened yesterday – far sooner than I had anticipated; I assume other events are pushing on us.

For the meeting in Post Office, there were at least four actual horses outside and two bicycles. Inside was a group of 8-10 people, most of whom I did not know but one – The Colonel – I did. He did the courtesy of a large bear hug.

Even one friend in a sea of the unknown can inspire a man.

These people were pulled on behalf of their settlements along the Garnet Valley or in at least one case, because they were a large ranching landholder. I saw wariness in their eyes, wariness and perhaps a little indifference.

Still, they did the courtesy of coming.

It has been some years since I have done a business presentation Lucilius; gone are the days of handouts and slide presentations and pre-reads. It was myself with an idea and a group that I had to convince.

I had prepared the presentation, first on notes at home rambling away to Pompeia Paulina, gesticulating wildly (she reminded me not to do that), muttering under my breath as I worked through thoughts and wording. This is an old habit of mind; for years I have been accused of vigorously carrying on conversations with myself against points no-one else can quite understood.

Presentations – at least decision making presentations – come down to a simple process: Present the problem, present examples of the problem and potential outcomes of the problem, present a solution and how the solution mitigates or removes the outcomes of the problem, and then the Call To Action to implement the solution.

I know all this. I wrote all this down. And then I promptly forgot most of it.

I found myself starting with a story, a story just as I told it to you last letter: sitting in the streambed, thinking about the road past up to the Big City and what I remembered seeing there. That although I did specifically have a head count of everyone around here, it was likely more than any of us thought and that it should be clear to anyone that help was not coming. That possibly – possibly – there was a food source near at hand that we could either work for, trade for, or worst case simply go and get ourselves if it was unattended.

The Colonel raised his hand. What was my suggested plan?

I had given this a little thought.

We did have radios in the area, although I had no direct access to one. Was it possible, I wondered, to see if there was anyone close enough to the area to try and make contact with whomever owned those fields if they were alive? If that failed – and it well might for any number of reasons – someone would have to go, both to try to make contact as well as assess the state of the grain. After that...everything depended. The place I was thinking of was easily 50 miles from here, so that would make somewhere between 5 and 7 days out and the same back – not counting on bringing any grain back. That was a whole different program.

Someone else raised their voice. Was there even any value in doing this? Would people be better off trying to do more of what they were doing?

To this, I had an answer thanks to my library at home.

The yield of wheat per acre could be up to 50 bushels. One bushel will yield up to 60 lbs of whole wheat flour, so one acre could yield up to 3,000 lbs of wheat flour (or one could eat the wheat berries, of course). That would support around 6 people a year just on bread (which is not likely to happen, of course).

Add to that the possibility of sowing and growing wheat here next year instead of having to make another trip, and we had added another food source.

Someone else immediately started to bring up how all that would be done, but the Colonel intervened. “That is not the point of the meeting today” he rumbled. “Those are good points, but not the question at hand. The question is simply if this is something worth following and if so, do we start by trying to make contact? The rest comes out of that.”

A voice came that the radio question could be answered in two days or less. But no matter if that was in the affirmative or negative, someone who still have to go to make the contact and if not contact, assess the conditions. Was that acceptable?

With that, I thanked them and left. Mine was the presentation, not the decision.

The Colonel and Young Xerxes came by later.

The initial suggestion had been discussed and agreed that it was something worth checking into – certainly the radio contact, and at least someone to go look around. Who would that someone be?

My plan, my responsibility.

The Colonel, Young Xerxes, and I will leave after the radio attempt is made.

This, Lucilius, is why I never suggested anything at my previous places employment.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca