The Big Cat Nap

the bride.” Victor whistled, then added, “Good luck, Yancy. Fair, I’m going to tempt your wife.”
    Harry had walked by with a few other vestry-board members.
    “She tempts me daily.” Fair smiled.
    “WRX STI. Great deal.” Victor started to move in Harry’s direction.
    “You’ll torture her,” Fair rejoined.
    “I know.” Victor left as the three other men watched.
    Yancy turned to Latigo and got down to brass tacks. “Do natural disasters greatly affect your business?”
    “Yes,” Latigo replied seriously. “Any disruption affects insurance, but I don’t have the kind of massive claims that life insurers or property insurers do in situations like floods or tornadoes. In ways, auto insurance is pretty cut-and-dried because we have the blue book to value our cars and trucks.”
    Yancy, drink in left hand, slid his right hand into his pants pocket, jingled keys. “Because I buy some crops ahead of harvest, like futures trading, I factor in weather. Not that you can predict anything with accuracy, but large changes like El Niño, stuff like that, I factor it in. Every little thing can affect harvest for good or for ill. ’Course, I don’t think there ever was insurance for corn worms.” He took a sip.
    Fair listened with interest to Latigo’s reply. “As you know, the government does offer some insurance for crops—”
    Yancy interrupted. “Better than nothing, I suppose, but I’d hate to depend on it.”
    “Me, too. The payment is always inadequate to the damage, and there’s plenty of people who will tell you the same thing about auto insurance. We undervalue their cars, undervalue repairs, use less-skilled labor. The funny thing is, NHTSA—the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration—hasn’t had an update on wheels since 1974. Back then wheels were steel. So we’ve got some seriously outmoded standards.”
    “Well, that just might make it easier for you to be dishonest,” Yancy impolitely answered.
    Stiffening slightly, Latigo said, “I’ll assume the ‘you’ applies to the industry and not me personally. Actually, what creates problems is people expecting the government to take care of them. Well, if wheel standards are damned near forty years old, isn’t it clear either they don’t care, or they don’t know enough to care, or they’re too venal to care? I know that safety standards are vastly different for a steel wheel than for one made primarily of aluminum. When my field agents assess damage and repair costs, I can tell you they’re far more accurate than any federal goon ever is.”
    “Didn’t know about that,” Yancy simply replied.
    “People have no idea, no idea at all.” Latigo laughed derisively.
    “The technology changes so rapidly. How can you keep up with it? I know the government can’t.” Fair was curious.
    “Fair, let me tell you something.” Latigo, one inch shorter than Fair’s six foot five, looked level at him. “What’s changed is computers running cars. Engines haven’t changed. Alternators haven’t changed.Fan belts haven’t changed. The internal-combustion engine is about perfect. Materials change. Oh, maybe the angle of setting an engine under the hood will change, but a piston is a piston.”
    “Never thought of it that way,” the vet replied.
    “I have a garage full of great cars. My Porsche 911 is a little bit of heaven. I have a gorgeous old restored DeSoto. Walt Richardson restored it, actually. I have my own muscle cars, and for my wife I bought a 1957 Thunderbird in aqua and white. I love cars, I love engines, and I love insuring them. What I don’t love is my industry being demonized, made into a target.”
    Yancy was thoughtful. “If I have one misshapen grape in a bunch, someone will call Albemarle’s health inspector on me. I wasn’t kidding when I said the Navy looks good again.”
    Fair, dangling his longneck bottle, asked, “Latigo, what would you say is the real purpose of insurance?”
    Right back at him, Latigo said, “To spread risk. We’ve had forms of insurance since the second millennium B.C ., and the purpose is always to spread risk.”
    Just then Harry trotted up to her husband, pulling him away from Yancy and Latigo.
    “Honey, you’re a little flushed. Do I look that good to you?” Fair teased.
    “Victor Gatzembizi is the devil himself. Twenty-seven thousand dollars for the WRX STI. The loan would be about twenty-three thousand if I went to the bank. Of course, I’m not even thinking