"My friend, Luminita," I said to Ms. Wonder as she packed for the morning commute downtown. You surely remember that this Wonder is one of those savants you're always reading about. She has the answer to any question, the solution to any problem. I think it's all that fish she eats. Brain food. Has to do with the healthy oils.
"This velcro gets caught on everything," she said much to my amazement.
"Did you say velcro?" I asked. "You know it must be the trademarked "velcro" if you want to use the word."
"Yes, I know. See, at the bottom of the shoulder strap?" she said as she held the problem strap in her hand for me to see. "Every time I putit on or take it off, it gets caught on something. Drives me crazy."
"Wicked!" I said. "Leave it off is my suggestion," I said. "Don't wear it."
"That's all you've got?" she said.
"Back to the subject," I said because I remembered in the nick of time that this Wonder, although a fount of ancient wisdom and modern enlightened thought, is also a master of the arts of subterfuge and misdirection. She wasn't going to throw me off track with this velcro motif.
"Floating cities," I said to establish the point d'appui, if that's the term, meaning the main ingredient. "Your first thought I'm sure, when you hear that term, are the floating colonies being proposed for the upper atmosphere of Venus."
"That's not my first thought," she said.
"Oh, don't be silly," I said. "Of course, it's your first thought." And I added a little chuckle to press it home. "What else?" As soon as these last two words were out of my mouth, I knew I'd passed the kite string to her, and now all I could do was stand and watch her fly the thing.
"Well, my first thought," she said "was of the floating villages in Halong Bay, Viet Nam. You remember. That James Bond flick, Tomorrow Never Dies, was filmed there. At least the boat chase was."
She grew silent for a few seconds and the look on her face told me that she was enjoying a little time travel that included pleasant thoughts of sailing on Halong Bay.
"Remember that little boy and his mother selling bananas boat to boat?" she said.
"It wasn't bananas," I said.
"Yes it was bananas," she said with just a hint of a scowl.
"Yes, I remember now," I said. But you understand it was only because I didn't want to spoil her fond reverie.
"My first thoughts were not of Viet Nam," I said. "My first thoughts are seldom of Viet Nam. It isn't Halong Bay that I associate with that sovereign nation, it's General Westmoreland and President Tricky."
Silence ruled between us as I took a few moments to remember that episode of my life, so long ago and so far away. Then coming back to the surface, I added,
"They gave me a letter of gratitude."
She gave me a look that said, let's not go into this again, shall we? Let's move on to something more fitting to an early morning chit-chat. It's a lot for a look to convey, I realize, but it's a look that I've come to know well.
"I immediately thought," I said in order to take her by the hand and gently lead her onto the right path, "of the floating colonies of dirigibles that certain visionary minds at NASA have proposed to be established in the skies above the surface of Venus.
They call it Cloud City. And with that for a first thought, I don't need to tell you, my chakras began vibrating at higher frequencies. I'm tingling with excitement even now."
As my first attempt at this conversation collapsed into a heap on the floor, I really didn't expect much of a reaction from her. I didn't get much.
"Damned velcro," she said.
"Scurge of the 21st century," I said.
"Don't you mean, scourge," she said, "a cause of great affliction--Webster?"
"I mean scurge," I said, "nothing worse; as low as you can go--Urban."
"Ah," she said.
"You're welcome," I said. She nodded.
"The article in Luminita's link was about French Polynesia planning to build floating islands to escape the ongoing rise in sea level," I said.
"Oh, interesting," she said. "Much like the floating villages on Halong Bay."
"Yes, well, you have a talking point," I said. "But those floating Polynesian islands may work to keep the tourists out of the waves while the sea levels rise, but when the collapsing ice caps generate 30-meter tsunamis, it's going to be the fall of Atlantis all over again."
"Goodness!" she said. "Didn't mean to get you all hotted up. Don't let your knickers get in a wad."
"Knickers in a wad are just what I don't have at present," I said. "I just wonder if the plans for floating cities are living on a prayer. Or perhaps it's wishful thinking."
And thinking that discretion is the better part of valor, I exited the kitchen before she could reply.