Never the Same #54 Carpe Diem

Kirk just grabbed the opportunity he was afforded.

Cue: “One Thing Leads to Another” https://youtu.be/pIe-Cj071l0?si=we2sT6YahsoDtQJV

 

 Pertinent U.S. History as it affected Kirk

 

            Recall that Kirk only attended the diesel college course because he had heard too much bad news about the war and vehemently dreaded the military draft. Well, just a couple months into his single college year the war ended along with the military draft. What a relief for Kirk because he didn’t harbor any confident thoughts about the military in general. How could any normal person deal with being in the military?

            Anyway, moving on, Kirk lived as a fervent gearhead, but then the OPEC oil embargo occurred and this affected him where it hurt the most�"fueling his cars. Gas prices tripled: In the city people waited hours in gas lines until the government instituted mandatory even/odd fueling days and dollar limits to gas purchases. It didn’t bother Kirk all that much in his rural setting. Relatedly, Kirk never paid much attention to posted speed limits in his hot, fast Firebird with the life achievement of doubling posted speed limits on curves, but then they mandated the nationwide 55 MPH speed limit. Kirk scoffed at that, but what an insult to gearheads across the U.S.!  Kirk thought that his world would soon end with the gas apocalypse, nevertheless just the same he pressed on with life as he knew it in his small, confined world.  Kirk heard bits of the news here and there, but he didn’t let it bother him that much.

            A lot happened in the U.S. during a short period of time. Inflation became stagflation. The price of energy went way up. The deficit had risen over the war spending. The dollar was devalued and the Fed drastically raised the interest rates 20 percent!  An Executive scandal rocked the White House causing a VP to resign and another sworn in. The president hung on for dear life. Things didn’t look good for the U.S. Will it all trickle down to affect Kirk? Naaah!

 

***

 

            Well, there Kirk was: fat, dumb, and happy. In actuality, he was the opposite of all three skinny, smart, and grim. In his small realm spring had sprung as the saying goes. Temperatures rose, flowers bloomed, and birds sang. Over the couple years since school, Kirk had taken up a spring hobby of sorts by planting morning glories. Surprising, huh? If you know about these flowers, it’s not just about tilling a flower bed and sticking seeds in the ground. No. Kirk had to put up something for the vining flowers to climb, and they climb fast, was to hang multiple strands of string. Not a major job of note, but Kirk enjoyed watching the vines spin around and climb the string along with the progression of spring/summer. Even though he grew up on the farm it didn’t mean he had a green thumb or overly enjoyed digging in the dirt and planting stuff, but this one small thing made him happy. He’d rather preferred to work on his cars, the stock car and earn money however he could to support that number one hobby.

            Sticking with the temperature motif, Kirk found his internal fire grow since bringing his new rebuilt racing engine home. The engine being all painted and shiny machined just looked faster. Kirk knew that he’d have to get to serious work on his stock car now being springtime and the racing season a scant month and a half away. With his fire growing, Kirk’s motivation was not a problem which as we recall is problem sometimes with Kirk, but not with the stock car, not now. His only holdup remained the same as with his engine cost and that being money. Anytime he thought about money for the car, his mind would gyrate over ALL the things he needed to buy. Could he get it together? We’ll see?

            Now with significantly warming up upstairs at Georgia Pacific Drywall Plant, Kirk couldn’t take some days at work because it got so damn hot. He could see why the job he held saw a lot of turn over, but there weren’t any jobs being posted to bid on. With his initial job as a laborer, Kirk got to see many of the jobs around the plant, but he couldn’t really put a finger on a job he’d like to fill except maybe, no definitely, a warehouse position. Yeah Kirk, forget about that highly desired position! So he continued his hot sweaty job with the gypsum dust sticking to him each and every day. Poor Kirk!  

            Not that he needed any more reason to fan the flames of racing in his belly, Kirk received something in the postal mail that just added more fuel to his belly fire: the NASCAR Racing rule book. When Kirk first saw it, the sight took his breath away. He had sooo much to do yet! Of course that night, Kirk studied the book starting right from the beginning. Before opening it, he assumed technical changes to his racing class, but as he perused it, he found there were very few technical changes that would affect his racing class which immensely relieved him.

            After a week of work and not overly stressed because he didn’t have to make massive changes to his car, he just decided to scan over the general classification rules, when he got a shock of a reminder that had eluded him in his fever to prepare the car, his lackadaisical attitude, or at least his minimal mental preparation. Before the previous season when Mike and he prepared to race, Mike had all kinds of advice, guidance, and technical expertise concerning racing, preparation, and the rules thereof. One of those things that Mike had handled was registering for their racing numbers. Mike had the number two and Kirk had number three. As Kirk read, though he already realized he had forgotten, keeping a racing number from one season to the next was not an automatic privilege. If you raced with a number during one season and failed to renew your registration by the deadline for the next season the number became available to any racer who wanted it.

            Top ten numbers were always highly desired by racers to have on their cars especially if they had high hopes for their upcoming season. Kirk stared at the deadline. Ten days out? Why didn’t they send the rule books out earlier? Suddenly, it dawned on him that he had sat on the book for at least a week. He had to jump on it, but he still had time to claim his precious number three! He pulled the form out of the book, filled out his personal info, his class and number, and stuck it in an envelope along with the required fee. Of course they needed a fee, didn’t they? With that obligation done, Kirk sensed that he REALLY needed to get off and running on his preparations.

                   The need to make multiple purchases in a relatively short period of time made Kirk’s head spin not to mention the worry of the deadline. With not much added edginess, he could more than become overwhelmed, slam on the brakes, ignore the deadlines and not get anything done. First off, he didn’t have to lay down money for the local machine shop to work on his cylinder head and valves so he started there by dropping that off. On the trip, he prioritized in his head on how the engine would go back together. Diverting his attention from his original planned one stop, he made a beeline to the performance shop and picked up a high-volume oil pump, competition timing gears, a complete gasket set, and a spray can of Chevy red paint. A small start, only a few of the things he knew he needed, but the next important item he had to get was a racing camshaft, and he could only order it from California using the info that Chuck had given him earlier in the winter. He had no idea of how long the order would take to be delivered to him. Phew! Kirk didn’t think his finances would hold up to the onslaught of performance part purchases before the racing season started.

            Then, seemingly out of the blue, the reality set in on the shortfall of how he’d get his new, improved stock car to the track�"he didn’t have a trailer anymore! Last season, Mike had let Kirk use the trailer or more to the situation point, the car hauler carried Mike’s car and Kirk’s car rode on the trailer behind. Having cut ties with Mike, Kirk couldn’t go begging to use the trailer again so he had to come up with something, a vehicle or trailer for his stock car. More monetary outlay! This problem became bigger than Kirk had ever imagined or dreaded when he had first decided to race again this season. Yeah, it seemed pretty easy at the beginning to state off the cuff to himself, oh yeah, I’m going to race and I’m going be better with vast improvements I have in mind. But reality really, really set in now.

            Kirk pressed on with his job each and every day not daring to miss any time on the clock. As we’ve seen, if Kirk was anything, he was reliable and persistent. His job seemed to get hotter with every passing day. All day the temperatures rose above the kilns and because he kept all the dangerous trapdoors closed, the job had become more labor intensive than before his near fatal incident. Unexpectedly, a new job posting showed up on the board at the time clock. Kirk felt instantly surprised that it wasn’t one of the production jobs because he thought they had the most workers with the greatest turnover. He stared at the posting because he knew about THAT particular job. The first thing he remembered about the job, seeing he was a vibrant young man, was the pornographic wallpaper in the shack! How the management allowed it Kirk couldn’t imagine, but then again, maybe what they don’t know…

            The job posted was for the Rock Handler position. He read down the brief job description which didn’t really say much, but it did pay 8 cents more than his present job. Kirk remembered the constant loud noise the machinery made there along with a long walk down the conveyor belt and then up the stairs for rock elevator, he thought they called it. He didn’t know how many times a day he would be required to walk both the incline and the stairs, but hey, he remained relatively fit from high school athletics. More or less. It would be another one-man, solo, all by himself job which Kirk didn’t mind at all because he preferred working that way. Be his own boss. More or less.  Considering all that Kirk had to do on his stock car in the next two months, he certainly didn’t need to learn and take on a different job position. Nevertheless, with a deep breath, he pulled the posting.

            “Hey Matt, I’m interested in taking this job,” Kirk said, handing the sheet to his supervisor.

            Matt probably knew what job Kirk was talking about, but he took it from him and read it just the same.

            “Do you know what this job entails?” Matt asked head turned aside.

            “Well,” Kirk paused. “Partially, not completely. Jimbo gave me a tour when I started with the laborers. Ah, watch, ah, monitor the flow of rocks the trucks dump to the storage hoppers.”

            “Yeah, that’s it basically. Though it’s a one-man position without relief. It can be lonely over there. It’s cold in the winter and noisy�"it’s always noisy. You have to keep hearing protection on the entire shift.”  He shrugged. “But John, he’s been over there and seemed to like it for 15 years and is now retiring. Are you really interested?”

            Kirk scanned the dusty concrete floor for subtle signs to determine his decision, but he perceived nothing definitive. Just dust, dirt and footprints. Where are those laborers?

              “Yeah, I want to take the position,” Kirk brashly said, thinking about his present sweaty position. “Any idea when I might get over there?”

            Matt paused thinking at the ceiling.  “John had a week or so left. I guess his retirement snuck up on us all so it’s good you’re interested so quickly. Somehow we’ll spell you this afternoon and you can spend some time over there to get a feel for the job.” Matt said with a shrug. “So you can make sure you want it. Hmmm, it’ll probably take longer to fill your position upstairs, but that’s no matter to you. Okay, I’ll get with you later.”

            “Okay, thanks Matt,” Kirk said, as they went different ways.

            Kirk headed up the three sets of stairs to his current work position. On arrival, Kirk immediately recalled that he wouldn’t miss working in the heat, dust, and boredom. He pressed on as usual. Later, mid-afternoon, Matt came up with one of the production guys in tow.

            “Okay Kirk, head on down to the rock handling area and see what you think. Remember to grab hearing protection going in. Ah, John’s a bit hard of hearing so speak up. Well, especially if wearing hearing protection. Let me know your decision before punching out. Okay?”

            “Okay,” Kirk said, not overly sure of what he was getting into.

            Kirk went downstairs, outside, and hiked the short distance to the old rickety looking steeply slanted pole barn. He marveled at how the conveyor cover/ shed went from about thirty feet high down to the ground, and then underground. Donning the hearing protection hanging outside the metal door, he suddenly took notice that it was quiet.  He stepped inside.

            Taking a look around, Kirk wondered if John was in the shack so he stepped up the five steps and opened the finally wallpapered shack. No John to be seen. Going outside the shack, Kirk spied down the long-inclined conveyor belt to its terminus, but nothing/no one was down there. Kirk’s first thought went straight to the worse about John’s whereabouts.  

            Still scanning about, he decided to climb the stairs that go up to the top of the elevator while thinking of a possible disaster. Kirk always knew he wouldn’t do well in face of disaster because back in high school wrestling his grappling always became a disaster since he’d be a nervous wreck. So he climbed the three flights of stairs which seemed real similar to the same number of steps he climbed to get to his present job over the kilns. Part way up, he realized that he didn’t need his hearing protection pulling the muffs down around his neck. He then heard a truck running and far off voices. When he got to the top, there he found an open window to the elements that faced out to the end of the conveyor belt as he stood off to the side of the top of the elevator. The rock elevator, that is, which has sizable iron rectangular buckets on double chains that lift and dump the rocks. Seeing no one was up there neither, Kirk headed down again.

            Suddenly, a loud, ear-piercing klaxon sounded and red lights started flashing. Kirk’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest and his knees got weak. He grabbed the dirty, muddy railing before one-handedly wrestling his hearing protection over his ears. Seconds later, the elevator started up abruptly with a mind and body punishing grinding, rattling movement just feet away with a horrendous rhythmic clanging above him. Cripe! Kirk, for a single moment there, thought he’d lose his life or at least his hearing. Calming a bit, he slowly, carefully made his way down to ground level while eyeing the elevator buckets going up as he went down. Down there by the shack, he saw that rocks were heading up the belt in his direction and way down at the bottom was, who he assumed, because he couldn’t be sure, with the downward angled distance was indeed John.   

            Down by the shack the punishing noise wasn’t quite as bad, as the conveyor belt glided as if on air up toward him with a pile of rocks heading towards him at a pretty good clip. The belt just made a whirring sound compared to the grinding, rattly elevator behind him. Heading down the slope to the end of the belt, Kirk saw John working at the bottom of the hopper. As he drew nearer, he saw John didn’t notice his approach working away with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. One thing Kirk learned in these noisy, dangerous places was that you shouldn’t sneak up on someone by surprise and startle them.

            “Hey John!” Kirk shouted from about twenty feet away. John wasn’t wearing any hearing protection, but he didn’t change his actions or turn to Kirk.

            “HELLO JOHN!” Still no reaction from John.

            Kirk got ten feet closer. “YO JOHN, HELLO JOHN!” Kirk shouted out cupped hands.

            John winced and jumped back away from the conveyor, dropped his shovel, and stumbled back holding his chest. Kirk thought he had a heart attack victim on his hands, but John recovered after a few moments it took Kirk to reach him.

            “CRIPES! YOU SCARED THE BEEGEESUS OUT OF ME,” John shouted at Kirk who was now only a couple feet away from the older guy.  “WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT?”  

            “Ah, I’m Kirk Biscuit,” Kirk said. “I’m supposed to see what you do on your job, here.”
            John picked up his shovel and leaned on it. Rocks of all shapes and sizes tumbled out and down onto the belt. As the pile of rocks conveyed up the belt, a small rivulet of muddy water ran downwards. Kirk gazed up and down the length. Even after walking down the slope along the belt, Kirk thought it was amazing how high the end of the belt rose from them down by the hopper.

            “HUH?”

            “I SAID, I’M KIRK BISCUIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DO!”

            “OH YEAH, YEAH. MATT TOLD ME. I’M RETIRING FROM THIS HELLHOLE.”

            “MATT SAID YOU LIKED THE JOB.”
            “WHAT?!!”

            “MATT SAID YOU LIKED THIS JOB.”

            “YEAH, YEAH.” John said, rather hangdog while leaning his shovel up against the old, cracked and sweating concrete wall. He started walking up the slope with Kirk in tow. Kirk shivered a bit thinking the tunnel where they walked might be somewhat like the mines though realized he was maybe only thirty feet underground with sunlight shining up ahead. He shivered again as he walked up behind tottering John who abruptly stopped and turned back to Kirk.

            “DON’T BE DOWN THERE WHEN THE TRUCKS DUMP,” John shouted, pointing at the metal sizeable hopper that looked like an upside-down rusty metallic pyramid. John began ambling again.  After a couple minutes, they reached the end of the belt where the tin shack stood on stilts. The noise increased with the rocks falling off the end of the belt onto the elevator buckets that definitely moved faster upwards than the belt moving up to it. Muddy gravel spewed all over the ground and stairs during that process. They went up the four steps into the shack.

            Kirk had to gaze around at the pornographic wallpaper. Were all those pinups John’s handywork? Kirk didn’t think he’d be able to work in THAT environment! They sat down with John basically collapsing into his office swivel chair that had seen its better days behind a decrepit metal desk. Kirk sat in a holey upholstered chair and pulled his hearing protection down to around his neck, but he found it was still plenty loud in the shack with the added rattles and creaks emanating from the vibrating shack. He could feel the vibration through the seat of his pants. Kirk had to wonder how someone could work there for any length of time let alone--years.

            “Matt said you worked here for 15 years,” Kirk said.

            “WHAT YOU SAYIN’”

            Kirk raised his voice but didn’t think he needed to shout anymore. He repeated it. John rolled up closer to the old desk.

            “HA! What do they know?” John loudly said with a scoff. “Eighteen years is more like it.”

            “So you liked working in this job?” Kirk realized his repeat.

            “Well, it’s not so bad. A lot of walkin’ up and down, shovelin’ and pokin.’” He paused. “Waitin’ on the trucks. You learn their schedule.” John took a wheezing breath. “No one bothers you much over here, too noisy and cold in the winter. Yep, pretty damn cold in the winter time with frozen mud to deal with in the equipment.”

            “On the belt?” Kirk asked.

            “Nah, the metal buckets goin’ up.” He gestured with an extended thumb over his shoulder. “That’s why the railroad iron is banging up there to knock the s**t out of the buckets.”

            Kirk recalled the buckets being bent. “Oh, to shake the mud out, huh?”

            “YEP! My own contribution years ago,” John looked hard at Kirk. “Sooooo,” he drew out for a couple syllables. “You think you’re up to it, ah, ah..”

            “Kirk Biscuit.”

            “Mister Biscuit.” He paused again. “That your dad working over on the line?”

            “Yeah. Yeah, this doesn’t seem so bad. I’m up on top of the kilns right now.”  

            “WHAT?”

            “I said I work over the kilns right now.”

            “Oh yeah, hot up there, huh?”

            “Yeah, really hot,” Kirk looked aside taking in a fine page of wallpaper. “So what do you have to do here on this job.”

            “Huh.” John seemed to have to think about it, then shrugged. “Just keep the rocks going into storage for the grinders. Keep an eye out for problems like bearings going out on the belt and elevator,” he threw up a thumb. “Sometimes boring, really between truck loads. Hey, don’t be caught down at the hopper when they dump.”

            Kirk was going to tell John that he had already told him that, but he didn’t.

            Suddenly, the equipment got quieter though the sound of the belt and elevator movement continued though not as rattly with the heavy vibration.

            “C’mon let’s take a climb upstairs,” John said, with a groan as he stood up. He threw a switch on the wall and everything went quiet. After all the noise it seemed deathly quiet. Kirk realized that the rocks had must have run out.

            They exited the shack, rounded the corner, and headed up the stairs. Slowly. Kirk followed John and wondered how’d the old guy did this climb every day. Then, wondering how many times a day. They finally arrived at the top with John wheezing unable to catch his breath at first. Kirk got a good chance to look around. The two-foot section of railroad track hung by a length of chain thrown over the upper cross member. He wondered how management allowed him to make the modification because of the wear and abuse the iron put on the buckets. He assumed, looking inside the buckets that they’d probably get filled completely with mud and gravel without the iron banging on them. He wouldn’t question it anyway.

            “Sooo,” John said. “There are shut off switches up and down.” He gestured at one electrical box with a short arm and a red light affixed to it. “One up here and one on each section of stairs. One at the top of the belt, one in the middle, and one by the hopper. Don’t be down there when they dump a load of rocks. Heh, heh.” He chuckled. “Make you a deaf man like me.”

            “Do the rock tanks ever get full and you have to shut down?” Kirk asked.

            “No, never. Most of the time they grind the rocks as fast as the rocks go in. C’mon let’s go down cuz’ another truck, the last truck, will be here soon.”

            They took their time going downstairs. Kirk thought he heard a truck outside, far away it seemed.

            “So how do you start all this, the belt and the elevator?”

            “Oh, forgot. That’s important, heh! Down on the shack wall. The only way to switch ‘em on. All these other switches just turn them off. Nothing will start if one of them other switches are pulled off. Ya know, for in case of an emergency.”

            “Hmm, hmm makes sense,” Kirk answered with a nod.  

            “Ah, mmm,” Kirk non-verbally pondered. “So, what else is there to the job?”

            “Not much,” John said with shrug.  “Keep the rocks going. Make sure you move all the rocks out of the hopper before the next load. Not enough room for two loads. Clean up, report any problems. Pretty easy. No one messes with you. What’da ya think?”

            “Yeah. I think I can do it,” Kirk said, gazing about. “All of it seems straightforward.” 

            Suddenly, there came a loud boom and a cascade of rocks on metal! Kirk jumped and glanced around, but he saw the light shining down at the end of the belt had gone dark and a tumble of rocks fell onto the belt that he could barely make out.

            “Yeah, the noise is loud when they dump.”

            “I sure guess so,” Kirk said, pulling up his hearing protection.

            “Better to be up here when they dump,” John said, turning back to the shack. “Here’s the switch to turn it all on.”

            He pulled down the switch and everything started in motion. Kirk watched as within thirty seconds, the pile of rocks came up the belt to dump in the elevator and be carried up to the tank. Kirk thought it seemed like an easy enough job. As the rocks moved, Kirk and John just watched them go by. No, not a bad a job at all, Kirk thought.

            After several minutes, the big rattly door opened letting sunlight steam in. Matt stepped inside and greeted the two.

            “What do you think, Kirk?” Matt shouted over the cacophony. 

            Kirk gazed around again, looked at John and said, “Yeah, I’ll take the job.”

            “Okay. Good,” Matt said. “So, John your last day is next Friday, right?”

            “WHAT?”

            Matt repeated himself and John confirmed it. “Kirk, we’ll get you over here for a whole day with John before he goes. Good?”

            “Sounds good to me,” Kirk said.

            Well, as you can ascertain, the Georgia-Pacific drywall plant attained a new, younger rock handler. Does this mean Kirk is firmly entrenched in the U.S. manual labor scene for life? The U.S. economy wasn’t in such great shape at the time, so we’ll have to see what transpires with Kirk. 

            So. Even with a different job position, a new engine for his stock car, and all those things Kirk wanted to buy and do, he remained pretty much just the same old Kirk for this period. But excitement is on the horizon.