A Quitter in action

Many of you know that I used to work construction. Masonry construction, specifically, brick, block, mortar, you know. I wasn't very good at the job. Now I work in distribution and I'm not very good at that either. For a brief time I tried light manufacturing and I wasn't good at that. I'm not really sure what I should do with the rest of my life, good thing I am almost old enough to retire, soon I will run out of options.... That isn't what I wanted to talk about today.

Today I want to talk about a specific incident of my construction career. Bricklayers are notorious for a belief in their rugged individualism. Almost a John Wayne, Charlton Heston aura. At least many I worked with. They carried rifles in their pickups, and owned horses, spit wads of tobacco, and screamed like angry savages.

One of the men I worked for was kind of cheap. He had an old forklift, heavy, tall, and prone to failure. And an old flatbed truck that used to be a Coca-Cola delivery vehicle. He had the back ripped off and a wooden bed installed. It made the bed a little higher than a standard flatbed, but it was a lot cheaper, and a lot older than most and a lot more likely to suffer from things like brake failure.  I hated that truck.

Another thing he did to save money was load his old, tall, heavy forklift right on the bed of his truck. This saved him from having to buy a trailer. But, it made for a terrifying ride, with all that height and weight every pothole, turn and bump seemed destined to topple the truck and kill the passengers. I hated that truck even more when the forklift was on it.

One day we were getting ready to start building a fast food place in a town about 50 miles away. We loaded all of the things we could in the pickup. Drove the forklift down to the rail yard, up onto the platform and onto the back of the truck. It was really the only practical place to do it, and it was unused, had been for years, and only about a mile from the shop.

We got back, loaded everything else precariously around the forklift, chained it all down securely, and started drinking some beer. And then some more beer.

About 7:00 that evening we were all pretty happy, and the beer was almost gone. As we were ready to call it a day, go home and get ready for a new job site one of the tires on the back of the truck just gave up. It exploded, it sounded like a bomb had gone off. There were two tires on each side, and the other one on the same side popped in what had to be a show of solidarity.

With all that weight, height, and sudden motion the truck, forklift, mixer, shovels and equipment all toppled over. It was a terrible sound of screaming, twisting iron and cracking, splintering wood, and made a thunderous crash when it hit. The ground shook with the anger of the weight.

We stood there looking, not knowing what to do next. My boss walked calmly over to his pickup, got his rifle and put the forklift and the truck out their misery, one clean shot to each. We shared a cigarette in solemn remembrance, and then I told him I quit. I didn't want to have to clean that mess up.

Building, and the Chance for Exploitation.

They are "tearing down" the parking lot next to us and constructing a building.  It is a fascinating process to watch.  They assembled a temporary fence around the parking lot, then bought in a huge excavator, and tore up the asphalt.  One worker was operating the machine, clawing up the pavement, and the other watching.  That is one getting over job, standing there watching somebody maneuver a tractor, but it would get very dull very quickly, plus, in direct opposition to well established stereotype, he did not even have a shovel handle to lean on.  Maybe it is part of a fitness initiative, "leave the shovel in the truck, tone up, trim down, live longer."

In an effort to reduce the risks associated with construction jobs workers are now required to wear bright neon shirts, or vests, and hard hats.  So these men, surrounded by chain link fence, tearing up a parking lot, with nothing above them but sky are safe.  From what?  There is a shirt that said "if I were a bird I know who I would poop on."  That makes me laugh every time I think about it.  Honestly, I would need to give it some thought, before I picked the target, if I were a bird, but it would not be one the poor man standing there watching his "co-worker" rip apart the parking lot with a tractor, he has enough problems.  Besides, his head is protected, he has a hard hat.

Once in a while men show up in shiny blue jeans, and button down shirts, normally they have the cuffs rolled up, and they look pretty official, it is obvious they are not there to tear anything up.  They point randomly around the destruction that used to be a parking lot, sweeping motions that might embrace the whole block, I worry for our parking lot.  Suddenly, they realize there is a tree across the street, and they scurry over to stand under the leafy branches, and it is not clear if it is for shade or protection, since they are not wearing hard hats, it would muss their stylishly combed hair.

Anyway, I have decided to take advantage of the opportunity provided by fate, and Verizon wireless.  I am going to take a picture at random times during the day, sometimes once, sometimes more, and at some point I am going to assemble these photos in an animation app I have on my iPad, and put the whole thing to music, and then post it on here.  Aren't you lucky?

If you have a preference for the song, or type of music, let me know, and if I can come up with nothing better I will use your suggestion.  And as an added bonus, I will give you credit for the choice in the opening and closing scenes of the video.  Aren't you lucky.

Don't make that mistake.

If you were to take the expressway from the northeast corner of Columbus to Downtown you would notice a construction site.  If you are driving early, before sunrise, you might be amazed at the action, and the light.  It is so bright, and so hectic it resembles an ant colony lit up by a hundred blinding white suns, one in each room, on every floor.  If you made that trip daily for an extended period you would be surprised at the speedy progress.  You might even be so impressed by the efficiency that you would ask your co-workers what was being built.

It is possible that your co-worker, despite being very knowledgeable about such things, would have no clue.  So, you might check on line, looking at the local governments building permits, and find nothing.  You might check the local papers archives and find no mention of a new building in that area.  It is entirely possible that the local television stations could tell you nothing about the mysterious, well lit building that is being completed so quickly.

Maybe you could drive by on your lunch break, but the fencing around the building may be so opaque, high and absolute that you could see nothing, and would still not know.  No signs proudly proclaiming  the ultimate occupant, no mention of the contractor, the architect or the principals of any kind, anywhere.

At this point you might be so intrigued, or frustrated, or both, that you would not be able to keep yourself from approaching the security guard with abnormally long arms, a head that seemed too large, and the slightly sickly, slightly shiny green tint, what was being built, and how it was being completed so quickly.

That would be a big mistake, trust me.  There are things you just don't want to know, and this is one of them.