Career Blues pt. IV

My six years as a mechanic with the courier company was fantastic. I worked with good people, The place was organized well, leadership was excellent. 'Ol Rob became a very good friend despite him being almost two decades older than me. We had similar personalities and a shared knack for using one liners. Rob had gone into the USAF the year I was born and then did a two year hitch in the USN, stationed aboard two aircraft carriers. He'd also worked at a local airport for about twelve years. Given my enthusiasm for anything aviation related, I was fascinated by the stories he had to tell. I also have a deep respect for veterans and there were a lot of them working with me at that place. We had a couple Korean war vets, a Vietnam vet that flew F4 Phantoms, another Vietnam vet that was a B-52 crewman and Rob, of course. Consequently the place had an unintentional military vibe to it. Every day when I'd get to work, I'd walk into the shop and Rob would snap to attention and we'd salute each other. I'd ask for permission to come aboard and he'd reply "Permission granted. How ya doin' Jasper?" I'd reply with "As you were, I'll be in the area all day." Even now, when I think about it, I smile. My future at that place started to become dark about three years in. The company had reorganized and began selling the routes to independent contractors (ICs are what we called 'em). That meant as routes were sold, the number of company vehicles began to get smaller. The shops at our other terminals were closed one by one until the only shop left was the one I worked in. Rob and I knew what was coming, but we didn't want to accept it. The brass in the corporate offices came up with the idea to open our shop to the public so anyone could come in off the street to have their vehicle worked on. In theory it was a great idea and many of my coworkers and the ICs took advantage of our services. In fact, many of the ICs had purchased our old fleet vehicles so they figured since we worked on them all the time, who better to have continue to work on them? We even had a few accounts come in. A parts store, an exterminator and a pool guy were bringing their business to us. But it wasn't enough business. After one year of an open shop, we reverted back to being a "company only" shop. The IC thing wasn't working as planned and it was taking longer than expected to sell off the routes. To me, that was a good thing. It meant there would still be work for Rob and I. There came a day when all of us in the shop were called into the CEO's office. We were told that two of the four would be let go and given a severance package. Each of us went with a different manager to learn our fates. I went with Tim, the Corporate fleet manager. I could tell that he didn't want to let any of us go, but he had to. Sitting in his office, I was close to passing out from an anxiety attack. I had just closed on my first house and couldn't afford to lose my job. I was granted a reprieve though. All my hard work and dedication to the company over the years payed off on that day. I learned that I would be one of the two people staying on. Rob was the other. Karl and Jim were the unlucky ones. It was a dark day. We were like family in that shop and now two of us were leaving. After Jim and Karl left, the shop was physically cut in half and the body shop became more warehouse space. Rob and I were both told that we would eventually be let go, but it wouldn't be for sometime. They didn't know exactly when. Rob and I knew when that would be. It eventually got to the point when there wasn't enough vehicles left in the fleet to keep us busy. We spent a lot of time looking for something, anything, to keep ourselves busy. The day came when Tim called me into his office. I knew what the meeting was about, he didn't have to tell me. I could see it in his face. I was told that I had one more month of employment and would then be let go. I was given a very nice severance package that could have covered my expenses for three months had I not found another job right away. Luckily, I didn't have to depend on that severance pay. As my time grew shorter and I became a "one digit midget" as Rob would say, I packed up my tools and took them home a little at a time so I wouldn't have to move a loaded tool box. My uniforms were turned in and all my paperwork was done. On my last day I didn't even have a uniform and Rob let me work out of his tool box. I made the rounds and said my goodbyes. I hadn't told anyone that I was leaving because I didn't want to deal with a bunch of questions. So, some people were shocked when I told them goodbye. I could have stayed on with the company as a driver, but that would've been a step backwards career-wise. I was back doing what I wanted to do and I wasn't about to let it slip away again. That last day after I punched out for the last time, I walked back to the shop and saluted Rob. "Permission to go ashore, sir" I asked. "Permission denied!" he said. It was over. I'm man enough to admit that I got a little teary eyed as I drove out of the parking lot for the last time. I had a new job lined up and I was once again heading into the unknown. Would I succeed as a diesel mechanic?

Thank God it's over!

Thank God, the worst of the winter is over. Winter is a very busy time for a heavy duty truck shop. Heavy duty diesels do not like winter weather at all. The trucks need to have the engine heaters plugged in, the fuel needs to have anti-gelling additives put into it, plastic airlines become brittle and break easily, the list goes on. The last time I was on call, the weather was very cold and I was extremely busy doing after hours service calls. Sunday nights and Monday mornings are the worst. Morons will forget to plug their trucks in or sometimes they'll shut them off and leave them for a day thinking it will start when they come back. At one of our accounts, the drivers will be written up if they don't plug their truck in at the end of the day. If we have to go and get a truck started, we have to note whether or not the heater was plugged in. The last Sunday I was on call, I had to go out around noon on the first service call of the day. I was out until around 20:00. The next call came in a few hours later and it was non-stop the rest the night and into Monday. I didn't come off the road until 06:30 Monday morning when the first people of the morning shift started coming in. All I was doing was starting trucks and getting frozen trailer brakes to release. All night. I made a lot of money on overtime, but the trade off was not being able to sleep. Before I was at this job, I had no clue as to the true meaning of "exhaustion" and "cold." It made for a long week. The temperatures stayed around 0 degrees until just a couple weeks ago. I'm so glad it's warmed up and the snow has been melting. Everyone in the shop was hanging by a thread because we'd been so busy. Everyone put in lots of overtime. When we (the mechanics) are out running service calls, the two shop foremen and the shop's owner are out in the shop working on trucks. Since the owner and foremen are out in the shop, the three people in the office have to cover more jobs, too. Work that had been scheduled gets put on the back burner for a day or two, so when the road calls taper off we're still busy catching up with the scheduled jobs. But, it's over until next winter. I'm sure we'll get snow again, but the temperatures won't be so damn cold. It won't be long and we'll have the shop doors open again. We're all white as ghosts from not getting any sun.

I agree with Jack White

If you've read a few Jack White interviews, you'd know that he isn't a fan of digital recording, electronic music and modern recording techniques in general. I agree with him. I think recording digitally is a good thing, but I don't think that computers should be used to correct mistakes or to replace musicians. People are what makes a good recording a good recording. A musician's emotions can totally change the way a part gets played. Concerts are good place to see this in action. If the band or performer isn't feeling it, the audience can tell. Conversely, if the performer is into it the performance can be amazing. Also, if you have two musicians play identical parts, those two parts will be different. The human element is infinitely variable and no matter how hard programmers try, they can never really duplicate that.

I'm not saying electronic music is shit, it certainly has it's place, but to my ears, it lacks emotion. I find songs that are the the same, performance after performance, to be very boring. Of course, not all music, digitally enhanced or not, is good. The country music of the last eight or so years, for example, has been pretty bad. The songs have been fairly good, but production has sucked really bad. A lot of it has sounded like the music was being played on a boom box in the background and the singer was singing in front of it. The stereo spectrum sounded like it had been reduced to front and back, with nothing on the sides. Once I realized this, country music and I parted ways. I went backward, it went forward.

This brings me to another point. I think all songs should be recorded live in the studio, with minimal tracks and overdubs. The old AC/DC recordings are a great example. Put on some headphones and listen to "Shot down in flames." When the main guitar riff starts playing you can hear someone holler in the background and then Bonn Scott hollers himself. The band records their tracks at the same time, in the same room (at least they used to, I don't know about now) and they can react to one another. However many people are in the band, that's how many tracks there are, occasional overdubs not withstanding. Had they recorded their parts seperately, I think the records would've sounded very bland. Another example of what I'm talking about is the old recordings of Sinatra, Martin, Bennet et al. Most of those old recordings were only two tracks. One for the vocals and one for the band and everything you hear is coming from musicians. Those old recordings are incredible! One room, one gifted crooner and a big band. Now THAT'S music. Everyone involved was good at their job, rehearsed beforehand and probably only had to do a couple of takes before they nailed it. Digital production (I'm not talking about digital recording, just production) has only degraded music. It has been used as a crutch for people that don't rehearse or have talent. Songs should be ready to go before entering a studio. Writing songs while in a studio only kills any spontaneity and emotion that might have made the difference between getting an incredible recording or a bland, vanilla recording that sounds as empty as it is.

Service calls, uncertainty and ridiculous people.

Part of my job as a diesel mechanic is to handle emergency road service. During business hours, we (the mechanics) are rotated so no one particular person is handling all the service calls. There are exceptions to this unwritten rule which are unavoidable. Sometimes a service call demands a specific skill from one of us, so occasionally someone will run two service calls in a row. In the warm months nobody complains about being out on the road all day because it's nice to get out of the shop and away from the drama. After the shop closes, however, the phone gets transferred to whoever is on call that week. Each mechanic does a tour of seven days on call, starting Friday night and ending the following Friday morning, when the shop opens. I hate being on call. I don't mind the service calls themselves, it's not knowing when they'll come in that irritates me. I'm one of those people who thrives on routine and dislikes uncertainty. I find it impossible to completely relax when I'm on call because I'm always waiting for the phone to ring. As soon as I forget about the phone, the damn thing will ring and off I go, into the night. Thankfully, we don't get too many calls after hours. When I do get a call, sometimes the price scares the caller away. Service calls for big trucks are expensive. Any service call from 17:00 to 08:00 is charged $90 for the call out and a minimum labor charge of two hours at $90/hour. That's $270 just for me to show up! Time over two hours will add to the cost (we bill labor from the time we leave the shop until the time we get back) and parts, obviously, will raise the price. When someone calls us and asks us to do a service call, we are very clear when telling them what kind of money is involved. It's shocking how many people don't understand. If a driver calls wanting a jump start, I'll show up, get the truck started and then hand him a bill. If I can get back to the shop within two hours from the time I left, the bill will be for $270. That's when the drivers get angry. They'll see me for only 20 to 30 minutes and think that they'll only be billed for that time. I then ask them if they drive for free. That usually clears things up fast. If they try to wheel and deal with me, I simply tell them that there is NO dealing. The price I give them is what they pay. Period. I then remind them that arguing will only waste time and make the bill increase in price. If that doesn't light a fire under their ass, I remind them that the work order which they had been told to read before signing (they sign the work order first thing upon my arrival) states that if they refuse to pay, we take possession of the equipment until they they pay for services rendered. If I work on the tractor, the trailer gets dropped where it sits and the tractor is then towed back to the shop. The driver can find his own ride. If things progress to this point, the driver is usually pretty hostile and I've already punched in the phone number for the state police and have only to hit the send button on my phone. I've also had incidents where I've handed the driver a bill for, say, $300 and they come back with "Oh gee, I only have $150 on me." Since they were told right when they called what the charges would be, I don't take any shit. I walk right up to the tractor, start disconnecting the air lines and light cord and go to pull the fifth wheel release. By then they know I'm not fucking around, and all of a sudden money is falling out of the woodwork. Thankfully, assholes that don't want to pay are fairly uncommon, but I do run into them. I like our charge accounts. There's no worrying about getting paid so we can just show up, repair the rig and send the driver on his way. Oh, I can't forget about the auto clubs. Every now and again some auto club will call up and ask if we can go do a jump start or change a tire. I love hearing the reactions of the operators when I tell them the prices. Places like AAA will, for the most part, expect you to do anything for $30 or less. If you know a towing operator, ask him or her what they think of AAA. They'll probably roll their eyes and say something sarcastic. Then there's the guys with one ton pickup trucks and the people with campers and boat trailers. They'll see our ad at a truck stop or in the yellow pages and focus on the "Heavy duty truck and trailer repair" part. They are just as shocked as the auto club people when they hear dollar amounts. The pickup dudes apparently don't realize that the "heavy duty" sticker on the side of their truck is only a marketing ploy. Sticker or not, a pickup is a light duty truck. The same goes for the boat trailers. In the summer, I get calls for trailer tires all the time. When I ask them what they have, expecting to hear something like "24 inch bud" and they'll say "Oh, a 15 inch six bolt." "Sorry, sir. We don't work on small stuff like that." They'll usually start griping about our ad and the trailer repair part. They calm down when I tell them how much it will cost for me to do the job. If I can get a tire. We simply don't stock parts for light duty vehicles. That's not our business. But, sometimes people are persistent.

The shop's owner never says "no" to the state patrol when they call, but I do. Last summer I had a dispatcher call me and ask if I could help a motorist out. I was told that the person had a flat tire on a boat trailer and couldn't get the wheel nuts loose. I asked if they could put me in contact with the driver so I could tell him how much it would cost. The dispatcher said she would relay the information. The guy must've flipped out when he found out how much it would cost him. He was only five miles from the shop, so I could've been out and back in under an hour. I understand that the state patrol was simply wanting to get a citizen back on the road, out of harms way, but I think that this driver had a right to know what the charges would be. Not to mention how the boss would chew me out if I didn't get paid. Well, if I went out I'd either get paid or I'd be pulling a boat trailer back to the shop. It's a freakin' circus sometimes.

I also get calls for jobs that I have no way of completing. I can't fix a rig if I don't have parts to put on it. Saturday nights, Sundays and holidays are tough times. If a driver calls wanting something like an airbag, I have to tell him that I won't be able to get parts until Monday. They don't understand that we're a truck repair shop and not a parts house. It's totally insane to think that we stock one of every part for every truck ever made. That's financially impossible. They'll ask "So, what do I do know?" Wait, that's what you'll have to do. I'll ask if they'd like me to come out and look things over and see if I can do something, making sure they know they'll have to pay me to show up, and then remind them that they'd be wasting money if I can't do anything. Over the years I've been doing this job, I've become jaded and callous. I used to feel bad when I couldn't do anything for a driver and would dwell on it for days afterward. Now, I don't give a shit. Things are black and white. That's all. Either I can help or I can't. It's that simple.

Career Blues pt. III

Having accepted the mechanic's position, I wrote a resignation letter at work that night and dropped it onto the desk of the daycare center's director. The next day I was pulled into the director's office. Obviously, she was curious as to why I was leaving and I told her the truth. I told her that the job was taking its toll on me physically and mentally. She made an attempt to change my mind by offering me more pay, but nothing could keep me there. I'd found an escape hatch and there was no stopping me. I liked working there. The people, about 98% of them women (a lot of "lookers" if you know what I mean), were great but I didn't have the assistants that I needed. The last few days of my employment at the center were pretty easy. The director had hired a cleaning service to take over my job until they found a replacement for me. The owner of the cleaning service told me he couldn't believe that I was doing all that work by myself! I told him that having spent four years there, two and one half of those without any help, I'd learned a lot of shortcuts and that some non-essential tasks were simply not done. My daily routine had been pared down to the minimum. That minimal routine still took ten to eleven hours! My very last day some of the women got a bit misty-eyed. I found that to be odd, but years later I realized why some of them were sad. You see, I'd become a part of their "normal" day and they had become part of mine. People find comfort in routine and become anxious when faced with uncertainty. Now I was leaving and breaking that routine. I was leaving the good times, the good people... the familiar and trading them in for uncertainty and anxiety. This was in August of 1999 and the change had begun.

I took a few days off between jobs so I could rest my weary body. I also needed to gather all of the tools that, for the most part, remained untouched since my last job as a mechanic in 1992. I cleaned out my tool box and put everything in its proper place, locked it up and rolled it back into my Mom's garage. The night before I started my new job I loaded my tool box into my truck and went home to try and get some sleep. Sleep didn't come easy. I had a thousand things running through my mind, most of them concerning whether or not I could handle the new job. The drop in self esteem which occurred after being fired in 1992 came back to haunt me. The one job I had failed at left its mark on me and wouldn't go away. In fact, I'm still affected by it today, but not as bad as it was back then. Anyway, I woke up the next morning (I hadn't worked a morning in years) and drove up the interstate to my new place of employment. My best friend was there to meet me and he took me back to the shop and introduced me to the guys I'd be working with. The first mechanic I met was Rob. I didn't know it at the time, but Rob would play a major role in my rebirth as a mechanic. He was about seventeen years older than me and was as cool as a cucumber. Over the next six years we'd become good friends. Rob was very calm and helpful as I wobbled my way back into being a mechanic. One of those first days, as Rob was finding out what I could do, he told me to change a tire. I rolled the new tire over to the tire machine, put the wheel onto the machine and promptly stopped. I had forgotten how to operate a tire machine! It was then that I realized how much I had forgotten. I was, basically, starting from scratch and I panicked. Luckily, the corporate fleet supervisor, Tim, knew that I was rusty. Tim and Scott (Scott was the new shop supervisor that started a week after I did) gave me menial tasks to find out what I could do and eventually assigned me to more difficult tasks as I progressed. After holding that job for a whole year I felt as if I'd turned a corner in my life. Though I was still suffering from the effects of the '92 debacle, I started to believe that I was good at my job. I had succeeded in holding that job! Life was good and I was happy. More stories from what I lovingly refer to as "The happy time" will come in the next installment.