I lost this engagement
Four o’clock in the morning and my shoulders are only now starting to unkink. I just climbed out of my car after 650 miles in the saddle straight through from Saint Louis. It has been possibly the worst forty eight hours of my career. My wife and child are out at her Mother’s this evening, so I am lighting up some kind incense and writing of my incorrectly performed automotive industry Jutsu.
But I will win. In six months, when that fracking United Auto Workers Plant Committee Official is laid off…I will be working and getting plenty of overtime. He will be laid off, broke and crying in his beer.
It’s a good thing I am not a christian anymore. Jesus would be disappointed in the warm glow of satisfaction I get from that thought.
Painful vent follows:
I was supposed to be riding this cherry contract through the end of the year. I had gotten this job as a reward. I had been part of a team that did a previous project for Chrysler and Chrysler had specifically told management they wanted the same team on this project.
It’s a fairly straightforward project with the latest and greatest automation technology that got crammed into a ridiculously unreasonable timeline that the team managed to pull off in spades. When we shipped that machine, I had a good feeling in my gut. I knew that we would had a few minor bugs that would only show themselves once we were in production, but all in all…this was gonna be fifty hours a week to babysit and lightly tweak this piece of automation till New Years. Yay Overtime!
It had been years since I had the pleasure to feel truly confident when we ship a machine. This industry is always in such a hurry, you are expected to finish the machine in the field, on the fly, while the plant is running production. Good luck and gods help you if you fail. If you pull it off, they might consider you for another project. (It is also known in industry parlance as, “Being thrown to the wolves.” So far, I have several wolf pelts.)
But this project was going so well. I got along well with my Robot Programmer, my Machine Builder was a cool guy and I was on good terms with both my Project Manager and the Chrysler Engineer I was supposed be working with. Good team, good machine, wife and child coming down to stay with me from mid September through December. Everything groovy.
Apparently Eris decided that I had been handed a FAR too ordered project and spun the wheel.
I have been in the business of industrial automation engineering for about sixteen years now. A good twelve of those years have been spent on automotive projects. I have worked on dozens of projects and worked with hundreds of Union employees and Engineers and Managers. I have NEVER been thrown out of a Plant by the Union or Plant Management.
Until Monday.
A little background: This plant is on the chopping block. Everyone knows the place is 95% certain to be closed in the next six months. That means you don’t do ANYTHING to the machinery without calling over the correct Tradesperson. You then direct them as to the work that you need performed on the machine. Then you wait.
I never violated the policy. I got along well with every Tradesperson on the installation. Being personable to the Union guys is part of my job. They need to understand that I am not there to take their work away. I make sure that they know that I am just finish the final debug and that I will train them to troubleshoot the machine so they can keep it running when I leave. If you just explain that to Union guys and gals, overall they are a nice bunch of people to work with.
Production started last week. The entire crew of Tradespeople had been juggled around over this last weekend. I don’t see any faces I recognize on Monday except for the Line Operators.
About an hour and a half into my day, I suddenly have a guy standing nose to nose with me and demanding to know where the Electrician assigned to my area was. He smelled like Union, so I politely told him that my project had not yet been assigned an Electrician.
He demanded to know who started the machine in the morning. I told him the truth, that I pushed the three buttons that started the machine, but that was it. The Line Operators where doing all the other work.
He told me that I was not allowed to be there without an Electrician. His demeanor spoke volumes. He was looking for a fight. He was looking for an excuse to get me thrown out of the plant.
This is not the first time this has happened to me. I tend to enjoy it if I can see it coming. And I could see this guy coming from a mile away.
I start smiling and answer every question with total politeness. I smile and explain my position politely. I ask if I have broken a Union rule I was not familiar with. And, at the end of the conversation, I always tell them to have a nice day. It drives them crazy. The last time I did that, the guy started screaming at me about “how fucking dare I tell him what kind of fucking day to have!”. (That was just delicious. The man was actually raving.)
Suddenly weeks worth of rumors that I had been picking up through both the Management and the Trades grapevines made sense. For weeks, the most credible rumors claimed that the Skilled Trades lay offs were coming any day now.
And here was this big, angry, uncomfortably frustrated Electrician I had never met demanding I have a Chrysler Electrician. I shall call this angry, white, ex-jock, tubby, scared out of his mind about getting laid off, three kids at home and a mortgage guy…Skippy. It amuses me to call him such.
This was a Sweep. The layoff must have begun.
That means I just got hit in a Sweep by the Union designed to get as many contractors as possible throw out of the building. Skippy was fishing HARD for a way to get me off the floor. I wonder if he got his quota that day.
I smiled politely and explained that I did not have to the management authority at Chrysler to assign myself an Electrician. Furthermore, it was not my responsibility to locate the Union Electrician. It was the Unions responsibility to supply the Electrician. If he would like I had the Chrysler Facilities Manager’s cell phone number. But if he could contact the Union and get an Electrician assigned to the machine, I would be happy to work with him. In the meantime, I would refrain from pushing the three buttons to start the machine in the morning if that violated Union rules.
This was not what Skippy expected. I don’t think they train these young guys how to handle the Very Extremely Polite and Helpful Attitude in response to their verbal assault.
Skippy got flustered and stalked off.
Ten minutes later Skippy shows back up with and older, trimmer version of himself shouting that my robot guy and I disconnect our computers and that we better fucking move away from the machine. I shall call this desperate white guy who stank of fear and Union Fever inspired by that fear…Bushy
Bushy…because he had a really impressive set of whiskers…and it amuses me.
OK. Whatever. Keep the peace. I am getting paid by the hour. Just keep smiling. Move your computer away from the machine. Keep smiling.
Now the Facilities Manager comes over. I am not going to even try to describe the headache it is to work with this guys sometimes, but that’s another story. I shall call this Manager…Engineering Wannabee in Need of Riatlin. Not because it amuses me, but because it describes him well.
Bushy starts yelling at Engineering Wannabee in Need of Ritalin about how he is supposed to have an Electrician with me at all times, blah, blah. I keep quietly moving my table, chair and computer away from the machinery.
Now I fully understand my dilemma. Engineering Wannabee in Need of Ritalin is getting his ass chewed for not doing what I told him to do weeks previously. He never bothered to make the request to get my project assigned a Union Electrician.
It suddenly occurs to Bushy that he had been distracted from his initial mission. He knows he can’t get Engineering Wannabee in Need of Riatlin thrown out. He stops yelling, turns his head, sees me and starts screaming at me that I haven’t shut off my computer yet.
I keep the smile on. I have already disconnected all my cables, moved my desk and computer away from the machine. I have done everything Bushy asked of me and did it with a smile. He had never once asked me to shut my laptop off.
Bushy starts to steam. I realize that smiling and politeness won’t get me out of this. I have just become his personal passion of the day. And Engineering Wannabee in Need of Riatlin is about to throw me under the bus to get the Union off his back.
I make the only countermove I can make. I look Bushy in the eye and politely say, “I have done everything you asked. If you want me to shut off my computer I will. I am happy to stand here, never touching the machine in any way and wait for the Electrician to show up.”
My Jutsu was not strong enough. I was directed to leave the Plant.
There is a certain sense of liberation to getting kick out. There was an opportunity here. I was getting thrown out and nothing could stop it. I could finally open my mouth and tell these idiots PRECISELY what I thought of them and their pathetic kind.
But I had to make it quick.
Skippy and Bushy stood looking at me smugly. Their tiny, panicky little brains where thinking they scored back at the Evil Scary Non Union World.
I looked at all three of them and said in my very best High School Drama Voice Projection Technique (you can hear me all the way in the back rows),
“No wonder the Japanese are kicking our ass. We Americans just stand around screaming at each other all day long instead of just getting the damn job done.”
I then theatrically strode off stage left to the exit. It was a little awkward to stride theatrically while carrying my folding table, folding chair, portable printer in box and loaded computer backpack…but I think I pulled it off.
I did tell Bushy to, “have a nice day” as headed for the exit. For the second time in my life it worked. Bushy started screaming something about, “that motherfucker better fucking not tell me what kind of fucking day to have” as I walked away.
Priceless. I couldn’t help the smirk on my face at that point.
I won’t bore you with the further details. I swear upon all gods and goddess that the reason given by the Union to Management to have me thrown out of the Plant was as follows:
“He has a Smart Ass Attitude”.
I shit you not.
It went as far as one of the VP’s of my company having a phone call with the Chrysler Plant Management. The Union would not budge. I had apparently REALLY pissed off Bushy. Bushy is very highly placed UAW Plant Committee Member. Bushy doesn’t like it when the peons dare speak up. And when peons tell him to have a nice day, Bushy get positively apoplectic.
I was now attempting to roll with this punch. I napped most of the rest of Monday, fired up Monster, updated my job profile and poured myself a few drinks.
Tuesday I was supposed to line up my replacement with the details and drive home. Instead I spent eight hours trying to get his laptop to work with the newest version of our software specs.
Before I left I lost my wallet. Found it…only to discover while looking for my wallet I lost my keys. Found my keys. This all took two hours.
Then I drove home.
But on the way I had several interesting phone conversations. The Engineering Wannabee in Need of Riatlin called me in a panic multiple times.
He apparently is panicky because my perfectly good replacement engineer doesn’t know to work the new automation platform technology. The safety system itself is pretty new and not many guys know how to use it. I am one of the few. For you geeks out there…think of the quantum leap of moving from old style hydraulic airplane controls to modern fly-by-wire controls. This project is fly-by-wire. Most programmers only know the old ‘hydraulic controls’ if you continue to stretch the metaphor.
So Engineering WiNoR’s whole world is falling down. I enjoyed telling him it was a shame I got kicked out of the plant, because I just REALLY would LOVE to help him. *chuckle* Good luck. *click*
My ten hour drive turned into thirteen hours because many parts of I-80, I-90 and I-94 are closed because of flooding. Detours are SLOW. I should have taken the Indianapolis route instead of the Chicago route.
Anyway…if you read this far…thanks for listening to me purge. I think I can actually get some sleep now.
But I will win. In six months, when that fracking United Auto Workers Plant Committee Official is laid off…I will be working and getting plenty of overtime. He will be laid off, broke and crying in his beer.
It’s a good thing I am not a christian anymore. Jesus would be disappointed in the warm glow of satisfaction I get from that thought.
Painful vent follows:
I was supposed to be riding this cherry contract through the end of the year. I had gotten this job as a reward. I had been part of a team that did a previous project for Chrysler and Chrysler had specifically told management they wanted the same team on this project.
It’s a fairly straightforward project with the latest and greatest automation technology that got crammed into a ridiculously unreasonable timeline that the team managed to pull off in spades. When we shipped that machine, I had a good feeling in my gut. I knew that we would had a few minor bugs that would only show themselves once we were in production, but all in all…this was gonna be fifty hours a week to babysit and lightly tweak this piece of automation till New Years. Yay Overtime!
It had been years since I had the pleasure to feel truly confident when we ship a machine. This industry is always in such a hurry, you are expected to finish the machine in the field, on the fly, while the plant is running production. Good luck and gods help you if you fail. If you pull it off, they might consider you for another project. (It is also known in industry parlance as, “Being thrown to the wolves.” So far, I have several wolf pelts.)
But this project was going so well. I got along well with my Robot Programmer, my Machine Builder was a cool guy and I was on good terms with both my Project Manager and the Chrysler Engineer I was supposed be working with. Good team, good machine, wife and child coming down to stay with me from mid September through December. Everything groovy.
Apparently Eris decided that I had been handed a FAR too ordered project and spun the wheel.
I have been in the business of industrial automation engineering for about sixteen years now. A good twelve of those years have been spent on automotive projects. I have worked on dozens of projects and worked with hundreds of Union employees and Engineers and Managers. I have NEVER been thrown out of a Plant by the Union or Plant Management.
Until Monday.
A little background: This plant is on the chopping block. Everyone knows the place is 95% certain to be closed in the next six months. That means you don’t do ANYTHING to the machinery without calling over the correct Tradesperson. You then direct them as to the work that you need performed on the machine. Then you wait.
I never violated the policy. I got along well with every Tradesperson on the installation. Being personable to the Union guys is part of my job. They need to understand that I am not there to take their work away. I make sure that they know that I am just finish the final debug and that I will train them to troubleshoot the machine so they can keep it running when I leave. If you just explain that to Union guys and gals, overall they are a nice bunch of people to work with.
Production started last week. The entire crew of Tradespeople had been juggled around over this last weekend. I don’t see any faces I recognize on Monday except for the Line Operators.
About an hour and a half into my day, I suddenly have a guy standing nose to nose with me and demanding to know where the Electrician assigned to my area was. He smelled like Union, so I politely told him that my project had not yet been assigned an Electrician.
He demanded to know who started the machine in the morning. I told him the truth, that I pushed the three buttons that started the machine, but that was it. The Line Operators where doing all the other work.
He told me that I was not allowed to be there without an Electrician. His demeanor spoke volumes. He was looking for a fight. He was looking for an excuse to get me thrown out of the plant.
This is not the first time this has happened to me. I tend to enjoy it if I can see it coming. And I could see this guy coming from a mile away.
I start smiling and answer every question with total politeness. I smile and explain my position politely. I ask if I have broken a Union rule I was not familiar with. And, at the end of the conversation, I always tell them to have a nice day. It drives them crazy. The last time I did that, the guy started screaming at me about “how fucking dare I tell him what kind of fucking day to have!”. (That was just delicious. The man was actually raving.)
Suddenly weeks worth of rumors that I had been picking up through both the Management and the Trades grapevines made sense. For weeks, the most credible rumors claimed that the Skilled Trades lay offs were coming any day now.
And here was this big, angry, uncomfortably frustrated Electrician I had never met demanding I have a Chrysler Electrician. I shall call this angry, white, ex-jock, tubby, scared out of his mind about getting laid off, three kids at home and a mortgage guy…Skippy. It amuses me to call him such.
This was a Sweep. The layoff must have begun.
That means I just got hit in a Sweep by the Union designed to get as many contractors as possible throw out of the building. Skippy was fishing HARD for a way to get me off the floor. I wonder if he got his quota that day.
I smiled politely and explained that I did not have to the management authority at Chrysler to assign myself an Electrician. Furthermore, it was not my responsibility to locate the Union Electrician. It was the Unions responsibility to supply the Electrician. If he would like I had the Chrysler Facilities Manager’s cell phone number. But if he could contact the Union and get an Electrician assigned to the machine, I would be happy to work with him. In the meantime, I would refrain from pushing the three buttons to start the machine in the morning if that violated Union rules.
This was not what Skippy expected. I don’t think they train these young guys how to handle the Very Extremely Polite and Helpful Attitude in response to their verbal assault.
Skippy got flustered and stalked off.
Ten minutes later Skippy shows back up with and older, trimmer version of himself shouting that my robot guy and I disconnect our computers and that we better fucking move away from the machine. I shall call this desperate white guy who stank of fear and Union Fever inspired by that fear…Bushy
Bushy…because he had a really impressive set of whiskers…and it amuses me.
OK. Whatever. Keep the peace. I am getting paid by the hour. Just keep smiling. Move your computer away from the machine. Keep smiling.
Now the Facilities Manager comes over. I am not going to even try to describe the headache it is to work with this guys sometimes, but that’s another story. I shall call this Manager…Engineering Wannabee in Need of Riatlin. Not because it amuses me, but because it describes him well.
Bushy starts yelling at Engineering Wannabee in Need of Ritalin about how he is supposed to have an Electrician with me at all times, blah, blah. I keep quietly moving my table, chair and computer away from the machinery.
Now I fully understand my dilemma. Engineering Wannabee in Need of Ritalin is getting his ass chewed for not doing what I told him to do weeks previously. He never bothered to make the request to get my project assigned a Union Electrician.
It suddenly occurs to Bushy that he had been distracted from his initial mission. He knows he can’t get Engineering Wannabee in Need of Riatlin thrown out. He stops yelling, turns his head, sees me and starts screaming at me that I haven’t shut off my computer yet.
I keep the smile on. I have already disconnected all my cables, moved my desk and computer away from the machine. I have done everything Bushy asked of me and did it with a smile. He had never once asked me to shut my laptop off.
Bushy starts to steam. I realize that smiling and politeness won’t get me out of this. I have just become his personal passion of the day. And Engineering Wannabee in Need of Riatlin is about to throw me under the bus to get the Union off his back.
I make the only countermove I can make. I look Bushy in the eye and politely say, “I have done everything you asked. If you want me to shut off my computer I will. I am happy to stand here, never touching the machine in any way and wait for the Electrician to show up.”
My Jutsu was not strong enough. I was directed to leave the Plant.
There is a certain sense of liberation to getting kick out. There was an opportunity here. I was getting thrown out and nothing could stop it. I could finally open my mouth and tell these idiots PRECISELY what I thought of them and their pathetic kind.
But I had to make it quick.
Skippy and Bushy stood looking at me smugly. Their tiny, panicky little brains where thinking they scored back at the Evil Scary Non Union World.
I looked at all three of them and said in my very best High School Drama Voice Projection Technique (you can hear me all the way in the back rows),
“No wonder the Japanese are kicking our ass. We Americans just stand around screaming at each other all day long instead of just getting the damn job done.”
I then theatrically strode off stage left to the exit. It was a little awkward to stride theatrically while carrying my folding table, folding chair, portable printer in box and loaded computer backpack…but I think I pulled it off.
I did tell Bushy to, “have a nice day” as headed for the exit. For the second time in my life it worked. Bushy started screaming something about, “that motherfucker better fucking not tell me what kind of fucking day to have” as I walked away.
Priceless. I couldn’t help the smirk on my face at that point.
I won’t bore you with the further details. I swear upon all gods and goddess that the reason given by the Union to Management to have me thrown out of the Plant was as follows:
“He has a Smart Ass Attitude”.
I shit you not.
It went as far as one of the VP’s of my company having a phone call with the Chrysler Plant Management. The Union would not budge. I had apparently REALLY pissed off Bushy. Bushy is very highly placed UAW Plant Committee Member. Bushy doesn’t like it when the peons dare speak up. And when peons tell him to have a nice day, Bushy get positively apoplectic.
I was now attempting to roll with this punch. I napped most of the rest of Monday, fired up Monster, updated my job profile and poured myself a few drinks.
Tuesday I was supposed to line up my replacement with the details and drive home. Instead I spent eight hours trying to get his laptop to work with the newest version of our software specs.
Before I left I lost my wallet. Found it…only to discover while looking for my wallet I lost my keys. Found my keys. This all took two hours.
Then I drove home.
But on the way I had several interesting phone conversations. The Engineering Wannabee in Need of Riatlin called me in a panic multiple times.
He apparently is panicky because my perfectly good replacement engineer doesn’t know to work the new automation platform technology. The safety system itself is pretty new and not many guys know how to use it. I am one of the few. For you geeks out there…think of the quantum leap of moving from old style hydraulic airplane controls to modern fly-by-wire controls. This project is fly-by-wire. Most programmers only know the old ‘hydraulic controls’ if you continue to stretch the metaphor.
So Engineering WiNoR’s whole world is falling down. I enjoyed telling him it was a shame I got kicked out of the plant, because I just REALLY would LOVE to help him. *chuckle* Good luck. *click*
My ten hour drive turned into thirteen hours because many parts of I-80, I-90 and I-94 are closed because of flooding. Detours are SLOW. I should have taken the Indianapolis route instead of the Chicago route.
Anyway…if you read this far…thanks for listening to me purge. I think I can actually get some sleep now.