Hello?
Hi Mom! (It's Lisa's Mom on the phone)
Hi Jim. You're awake?
Yes. I had to get up to answer the phone.
Sorry.
I'm kidding. I just got home. Lisa went to breakfast with her friends.
Okay.
I called Tante Resl this morning to get some blog information.
Did she yell at you? She isn't very good on the phone.
Yes. I did notice that in the first few seconds of our conversation.
She gets a lot of sales calls.
Do you want to sign her up on the "do not call" list? Are you near your computer?
Okay. Hold on. My emails get lost. It puts all the names together instead of the date.
You need to click on the 'received' button to organize them chronologically.
Okay. Hold on. Just a moment. Yes! It worked. Okay, now what?
I just sent you a link for the national do not call list. You have to hit the send/receive button.
Okay. I got it.
Click on the link.
Okay.
Put in Tante's phone number and hit the submit button.
Okay.
Tante didn't want to reveal her favorite color this morning. She gave me both blue and yellow. She kept asking me "What else you want to know?" with an impatient voice. Where were you married? She said at the Justice of the Peace. Where? I asked again. I don't remember. What else? When was Eugene's birthday? He was 12 years older than me. Do you have a date? No. What else? How did you meet Eugene? I used to go to the dance hall. Otto introduced us. They worked together at Bohacks. What else do you want to know?
See, she isn't very good on the phone.
I was looking for a story. Something I could twist around and exaggerate with funny details.
It's better to talk to her in person.
I'll tell Lisa you called.
Good bye.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Theresa
Mondolf Germany, 1918
In the middle of World War One, George Kainzbauer and his wife Francesca gave birth to Theresa. Theresa is one the youngest of eleven siblings. She would spend the next 19 years working on her parents farm.
In 1937 Theresa hopped on a ship and cruised across the Atlantic Ocean. One of her siblings picked her up from Ellis Island.
Living in the German area of Ridgewood, Theresa made friends at the local dance hall. At that dance hall Theresa was introduce to Eigen by a mutual friend named Otto. Otto and Eigen worked as bakers at a supermarket called Bohacks. Eigen, 12 years older than Theresa, fell in love. In 1942 they married at the 'Justice of the Peace'. The Catholic Church wouldn't marry them because of Eigen's previous marriage. (Eigen had two sons from that marriage)
One of Theresa's brothers fought in World War Two on the German side. He was listed as missing-in-action was never found.
Theresa and Eugene (American for Eigen) moved to a 'cold water flat' at 19-19 Greene Avenue in Ridgewood. Theresa found work by a sign in the window of a store which read "Girl Wanted". She applied and was immediately hired as a seamstress. Her work ethic would be considered by most as insane. When ever anyone describes Theresa her strong work ethic gets mentioned. At the knitting mill Theresa was the fastest worker. She was promoted to Forewoman.
Around 1950 Theresa and Eugene viewed a house in Floral Park for $11,000. Although nervous about the price they took the plunge. Theresa lived there for 52 years.
Vacations were always spent with their friends Otto and Elsie Reich. Card games were very common among the close friends.
The worse of times came in 1981 when Eugene died of liver cancer.
With no children of her own, Theresa became known as Tante Resl. Many of the younger kids only know her as Tante. Tante's tradition of Thanksgiving dinner went from a small family gathering in the 1950's to a huge two-turkey feast as the family grew. The finished basement was the only area large enough to feed the 30 plus family members. An additional stove was added in the basement to help keep all the food hot.
At 78 years old Tante would drive to North Babylon to spend time with her great great nephews Andrew and Gregory. Walking with the strollers, Lisa had trouble keeping pace. Even outpacing the much younger family members while picking up leaves!
Tante sold the small, well kept, house in 2003. The kitchen had original white tile, floor and walls, which looked brand new. No cracks or scratches. It is more a tribute to her housekeeping than to the workmanship.
Last week, at her 90th birthday party, she took the "Surprise!" in stride.
In the middle of World War One, George Kainzbauer and his wife Francesca gave birth to Theresa. Theresa is one the youngest of eleven siblings. She would spend the next 19 years working on her parents farm.
In 1937 Theresa hopped on a ship and cruised across the Atlantic Ocean. One of her siblings picked her up from Ellis Island.
Living in the German area of Ridgewood, Theresa made friends at the local dance hall. At that dance hall Theresa was introduce to Eigen by a mutual friend named Otto. Otto and Eigen worked as bakers at a supermarket called Bohacks. Eigen, 12 years older than Theresa, fell in love. In 1942 they married at the 'Justice of the Peace'. The Catholic Church wouldn't marry them because of Eigen's previous marriage. (Eigen had two sons from that marriage)
One of Theresa's brothers fought in World War Two on the German side. He was listed as missing-in-action was never found.
Theresa and Eugene (American for Eigen) moved to a 'cold water flat' at 19-19 Greene Avenue in Ridgewood. Theresa found work by a sign in the window of a store which read "Girl Wanted". She applied and was immediately hired as a seamstress. Her work ethic would be considered by most as insane. When ever anyone describes Theresa her strong work ethic gets mentioned. At the knitting mill Theresa was the fastest worker. She was promoted to Forewoman.
Around 1950 Theresa and Eugene viewed a house in Floral Park for $11,000. Although nervous about the price they took the plunge. Theresa lived there for 52 years.
Vacations were always spent with their friends Otto and Elsie Reich. Card games were very common among the close friends.
The worse of times came in 1981 when Eugene died of liver cancer.
With no children of her own, Theresa became known as Tante Resl. Many of the younger kids only know her as Tante. Tante's tradition of Thanksgiving dinner went from a small family gathering in the 1950's to a huge two-turkey feast as the family grew. The finished basement was the only area large enough to feed the 30 plus family members. An additional stove was added in the basement to help keep all the food hot.
At 78 years old Tante would drive to North Babylon to spend time with her great great nephews Andrew and Gregory. Walking with the strollers, Lisa had trouble keeping pace. Even outpacing the much younger family members while picking up leaves!
Tante sold the small, well kept, house in 2003. The kitchen had original white tile, floor and walls, which looked brand new. No cracks or scratches. It is more a tribute to her housekeeping than to the workmanship.
Last week, at her 90th birthday party, she took the "Surprise!" in stride.
The ongoing family tree library needs more history of Tante Resl. Where was she married? Church? Please share your favorite Tante story.... How many family members are shorter than her? At what age did she migrate to America? What was her cats name? What was the name of the company she worked for? What did her husband, Eugene, do for a living? Was he in WW2? Favorite color sweater? I'm guessing white. Eventually the entire family tree will be uploaded to an online website that everyone can view. I'm searching for one that keeps information private and lets us upload photos. I know I can ask Tante all these questions but she is still recharging her batteries from her 90th Surprise party. Jim
Hello James. I do not know when or where Tatnte got married. I think Diane is the only member shorter than her. She had a dog named Tippy. Her husband was a baker at a bakery called Bohacks. She worked in a knitting mill. The fastest worker in the place. Not the best but the fastest. I remember A diner story of her and her husband trying to swat a fly and causing a commotion because they couldn't get it. Love you,Lisa
Dearest Jim,I am not sure where she was married. I don't have a favorite Tante story,just wonderful memories.The most special are the many, many Sundayafternoons playing "31" with her and Uncle Eugene. I do not believe I am shorter than her, we will have to put it to the test the next time we areall together. Lisa is just jealous. I think she was 17 years old when she came over, but I could be wrong. Her mother told her and her sister that only 1 of them could go because she needed the other one at home to help.Tante Resl quickly said she wanted to come and so it was decided. (good thing she didn't hesitate). When she first came to America, she took a job in a coffee shop, serving donuts and coffee (there wasn't any lunches). She was paid very little but she also got free room and board. It is there that she met Uncle Eugene. He came in to help at lunch time when it was busy. The woman that owned the shop told Tante when she first met Uncle Eugene that she was going to marry him. She was right. Uncle Eugene has two sons from his first marriage. She only met them a few times, mostly before they were married. His ex-wife remarried and he adopted the boys. Their best friends were Otto and Else. She has many wonderful memories with them. They took all of there vacations together. The 4 of them always shared a hotel room to save money on their trips. They had to take vacations predicated on Tante Resl's shut down at the mill because the"men' could take it at any time. They had union. She did not. Her boss told the employees at the knitting mill that he wasn't getting the union and if you wanted one you could find work elsewhere. They played cards fora little money often with Otto and Else. The winning would go into a kitty to save for the next vacation. Otto and Else lost their grandson to suicide. It was very difficult for them. I will try to think of some more stuff, but that is all I got for now. Talk to you soon. Diane
Here's a few more memories:Tante, uncle eigen, elsi and otto went dancing almost every weekend. She worked for Mr & Mrs Smidt. She was nice, but he was tough.The last couple of years, she was promoted to for women. Too much stress. She hated it and had to quit. She was the fastest seamstress (no kidding), but according to Tante not the best.Her dog was "Tippie". Her car was "Betsy". Tante's mom(our great grandmother) never got over the 'missing in action' of her son Alfonse. All her brothers that went to war never returned, except one. However, he came back, disabled and died at an earlier than a typical Kainzbauer age.- Donna.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Uncle Jon Brings the CRAZY!
Lets kick this up a notch....
If my nephew Greg breaks his goal of $2,500 raised, I too will shave my head and email everyone a video of the actual head shaving.
The head shaving will take place in March, 2008
Please feel free to forward this around....
From: Jonathan S. Carroll (NY) Sent: Friday, February 15, 2008 9:05 AMSubject: Greg
My nephew Greg is raising money for Cancer research. On March 8, 2008 he will shave his head for charity.
If you would like to make a donation to support his efforts it would be appreciated.
Click here to help
Jonathan
If my nephew Greg breaks his goal of $2,500 raised, I too will shave my head and email everyone a video of the actual head shaving.
The head shaving will take place in March, 2008
Please feel free to forward this around....
From: Jonathan S. Carroll (NY) Sent: Friday, February 15, 2008 9:05 AMSubject: Greg
My nephew Greg is raising money for Cancer research. On March 8, 2008 he will shave his head for charity.
If you would like to make a donation to support his efforts it would be appreciated.
Click here to help
Jonathan
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
St. Baldrick's day
View the St. Baldrick's homepage, click here.
This is last years picture. And Gregory is at it again!
Lisa and I were inspired by him when he gave up cookies for Lent. Not to be out done, Lisa gave up tea and I gave up coffee.
So he upped the ante by agreeing to get his head shaved for a cancer curing fundraiser. If Lisa decides to shave her head, I will follow. The odds of that are slim. But the potential funny pictures posted here would get serious attention and donations.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
The doorman hurdle
Working an extra late-night shift was a lot of fun last night. My first call was to 237 Park Avenue. Someone was trapped in elevator #9. When I arrived (just before my shift actually started) the doorman told me one lady was stuck and needed to get out quickly. I ask the normal questions attempting to assess the situation.
Is she calm or panicking? Claustrophobic? Pregnant or epileptic? Do we need to call the fire department?
The doorman immediately presses the intercom talk button "Are you pregnant?"
The lady yelled "What?"
"They want me to ask you" he said.
Now, I understand its difficult to get a normal person to work the graveyard shift. I understand the intense amount of stress a doorman must be under each night, in a near-empty building.
As the nocturnal porter starts to laugh at the doorman I asked "Dude, are you serious? What's the matter with you?"
"How else will we know?" he inquires of me.
I went on to explain that I was hoping he would already have pertinent information from what our victim already volunteered. (She became a victim when this idiot doorman forced her to reconsider her safety. And her maternity status.)
I wait as Einstein looks for the machine room keys. And I wonder why he didn't perform this task just after calling Schindler with an elevator problem.
Once in the machine room my twenty plus years of elevator experience quickly diagnosed the problem. But the burning smell and smoke from a large relay did help. At this time I didn't know which floor she was trapped on. I was hoping to be able to pick the hall door near her and open the car door by hand. I went down to investigate her location.
The lady was stuck in a blind shaft. I called the office for a second mechanic. A blind shaft is the part of the hoistway that has no doors to the hallway. This particular blind shaft was the first 12 stories of the building above the lobby landing. She was stuck on the ninth floor. I knew the only way out for her was to be helped from the side door of elevator #9 to the side door of #8.
I pulled the mainline and ventured down the stairs to elevator #8. Once on top of #8 I heard the voice of elevator mechanic #2, Sean. He arrived rather quickly I noticed. After customary greetings and the offering of coffee, Sean and I descended slowly atop of elevator #8. When we reached the point where our car top was level with #9 we noticed the side doors do not have a beam between them. Nothing but nine floors of gravity creating a rather unsafe transfer spot. At this point Sean climbs over to our victims car. He opens the top escape hatch and begins to talk to the lady.
With universal hand signals I inquire if she's old or fat. (I already know she isn't pregnant) I'm concerned about a transfer as we consider calling the FDNY. We would be able to get them to this point in the shaft and they can be responsible for her safety.
Sean wants to look at the melted relay. A slow trip up to 21 will delay our goal. So I stayed with our victim while Sean went up to the machine room. Her name is Sharon and she works at a cosmetic company in the building. I offer her my cell phone but she already had one and was in contact with her friends. Her first priority, upon exit, was to use a bathroom.
I call Sean on the phone. He wants to make a temporary repair to the relay and hope for the best. I originally didn't look for a "relay repair" because I thought I would be able to get her out without a transfer.
Eventually Sean patched the relay terminal with a large sheet metal screw. It was just barely hanging on to the stranded wire. As I ran the car (from the car top controls) on inspection speed up he stood by the fire extinguisher in the machine room.
Sharon was free. I got a hug. Sean got two tickets on his car. One for an expired inspection sticker and one for not putting money in the parking meter. That's how he arrived so quickly.
I repaired four more elevators that night. Then, at 6AM, I got another entrapment call. This time it was 1345 Avenue of the Americas. Two doorman work the same night-shift at this building. One doorman is named Frank. Frank has worked there for a few months but never knows where anything is or even where the keys are. Frank and I got trapped in a stairwell a few weeks back because he thought it was unlocked.
The other doorman greeted me this morning and jokingly asked if I wanted Frank to escort me around the building.
"No thanks. Just toss me the keys and tell me which floor the low rise machine room is located".
Doorman #2 didn't know which floor and he didn't know which keys were needed. So I asked him "Why do you pick on Frank when you, yourself, don't know your way around here? How long have you been working here?"
His answer of four years shocked me. It took one half hour to get from the lobby to inside the elevator machine room. The victim of this building may blame the elevator mechanic for not working quick enough. The real resistance of my rescues is never revealed.
Is she calm or panicking? Claustrophobic? Pregnant or epileptic? Do we need to call the fire department?
The doorman immediately presses the intercom talk button "Are you pregnant?"
The lady yelled "What?"
"They want me to ask you" he said.
Now, I understand its difficult to get a normal person to work the graveyard shift. I understand the intense amount of stress a doorman must be under each night, in a near-empty building.
As the nocturnal porter starts to laugh at the doorman I asked "Dude, are you serious? What's the matter with you?"
"How else will we know?" he inquires of me.
I went on to explain that I was hoping he would already have pertinent information from what our victim already volunteered. (She became a victim when this idiot doorman forced her to reconsider her safety. And her maternity status.)
I wait as Einstein looks for the machine room keys. And I wonder why he didn't perform this task just after calling Schindler with an elevator problem.
Once in the machine room my twenty plus years of elevator experience quickly diagnosed the problem. But the burning smell and smoke from a large relay did help. At this time I didn't know which floor she was trapped on. I was hoping to be able to pick the hall door near her and open the car door by hand. I went down to investigate her location.
The lady was stuck in a blind shaft. I called the office for a second mechanic. A blind shaft is the part of the hoistway that has no doors to the hallway. This particular blind shaft was the first 12 stories of the building above the lobby landing. She was stuck on the ninth floor. I knew the only way out for her was to be helped from the side door of elevator #9 to the side door of #8.
I pulled the mainline and ventured down the stairs to elevator #8. Once on top of #8 I heard the voice of elevator mechanic #2, Sean. He arrived rather quickly I noticed. After customary greetings and the offering of coffee, Sean and I descended slowly atop of elevator #8. When we reached the point where our car top was level with #9 we noticed the side doors do not have a beam between them. Nothing but nine floors of gravity creating a rather unsafe transfer spot. At this point Sean climbs over to our victims car. He opens the top escape hatch and begins to talk to the lady.
With universal hand signals I inquire if she's old or fat. (I already know she isn't pregnant) I'm concerned about a transfer as we consider calling the FDNY. We would be able to get them to this point in the shaft and they can be responsible for her safety.
Sean wants to look at the melted relay. A slow trip up to 21 will delay our goal. So I stayed with our victim while Sean went up to the machine room. Her name is Sharon and she works at a cosmetic company in the building. I offer her my cell phone but she already had one and was in contact with her friends. Her first priority, upon exit, was to use a bathroom.
I call Sean on the phone. He wants to make a temporary repair to the relay and hope for the best. I originally didn't look for a "relay repair" because I thought I would be able to get her out without a transfer.
Eventually Sean patched the relay terminal with a large sheet metal screw. It was just barely hanging on to the stranded wire. As I ran the car (from the car top controls) on inspection speed up he stood by the fire extinguisher in the machine room.
Sharon was free. I got a hug. Sean got two tickets on his car. One for an expired inspection sticker and one for not putting money in the parking meter. That's how he arrived so quickly.
I repaired four more elevators that night. Then, at 6AM, I got another entrapment call. This time it was 1345 Avenue of the Americas. Two doorman work the same night-shift at this building. One doorman is named Frank. Frank has worked there for a few months but never knows where anything is or even where the keys are. Frank and I got trapped in a stairwell a few weeks back because he thought it was unlocked.
The other doorman greeted me this morning and jokingly asked if I wanted Frank to escort me around the building.
"No thanks. Just toss me the keys and tell me which floor the low rise machine room is located".
Doorman #2 didn't know which floor and he didn't know which keys were needed. So I asked him "Why do you pick on Frank when you, yourself, don't know your way around here? How long have you been working here?"
His answer of four years shocked me. It took one half hour to get from the lobby to inside the elevator machine room. The victim of this building may blame the elevator mechanic for not working quick enough. The real resistance of my rescues is never revealed.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Copy/paste cut publish
Random deleted blog rantings:
____________________________
1996-97
A week after my 30th birthday I was standing at Columbus circle in Manhattan. Local 3 rented an auditiourm there for us to vote on working without a contract or going on strike. The place was crowded and the rumors concerning "what if?" were non-stop.I wasn't worried at all. All the elevator shops were busy with plenty of work. The last strike only lasted one week.Instead I talked about the large fountain in the middle of the large circle. A mechanic named Tom once poured gallons of liquid laundry detergent into the fountain to create bubbles. It worked but the fountain needed to be shut down for a few weeks after that.Local 3 represenatives wanted us on strike. They told us that working without a contact could mean not getting paid for the holidays. They said our pay rate could be lowered during the labor negioations. They were wrong on both accounts. And they knew it. But mechanics feared working without a contract, and limited union support.When the votes were counted we were on strike without any clue when negioations would even start. I had a mortgage, car loan and two kids in diapers. Gregory was also drinking formula like a thirsty soccer player.I applied to a Newday ad requesting escalator mechanics for the train system in Washinton D.C. It was the best move I could make but it required me to move and to fake fixing escalators. I never worked on an escalator so faking it would be interesting.That auditorium is no longer there.
________________________
Albert Einstein proved that time does not exist. "People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
What is stress?
Stress is the emotional and physical strain caused by our response to pressure from the outside world. “Stress is nothing more than a socially acceptable form of mental illness”
Most of that pressure is time related. We never seem to have enough time. This lack of time is more apparent during the very busy holiday season.
What is suppose to consume our time?
Sleep: 8 hours a day.
Work: 8 hours a day.
Commute to/from work: 1 hour a day.
Health-
Exercise: 1 hour a day.
Tooth brushing: 10 minutes per day
Shower: 10 minutes per day
Shaving: 5 minutes per day
Eating (includes preparing food): 65 minutes per day
Family time: 4.5 hours per day
Church: One Mass per week=10 minutes per day.
Reading: 1 hour per day
Have a car? Maintenance of a car will cost you more time. Accident and/or ticket? More time consumed.
Have a hobby? You should be doing some stuff you enjoy. How do you make the time?
Have a pet? Television? Computer? House? Sick relative? Laundry? Birthday party? Lawn? Kids?!
Now, for one month, add in Christmas shopping and family gatherings.
Total it all up and it comes to over 24 hours a day. Surprised? I thought not.
So here comes the fun part. We consciously begin to make priorities. No matter which area we cut time from we pay the price in other ways. And create stress!
No time to exercise gets us fat. No time to shower gets us lonely.
Want to multitask? Good luck!
Many people fantasize about hitting the lottery because freeing up time would be more enjoyable than buying stuff. Many websites and books dedicate themselves to relieving stress. But in reality the best way to lower stress is to understand the time factors work against us. We cannot possibly accomplish all that we should be doing in 24 hours. Let alone what we want to do.
In 1955 Albert Einstein, the man who proved time does not exist, died of old age.
______________________________
Building superintendents run a building and they drink coffee. They may work alone, in a small building, or head a department in larger buildings. He (usually a "he") needs a broad range of mechanical knowledge and access to hardware, paint, tools and cleaners. He is the man who signs out work order. He cleans up the carpet tracks when we lose direction and common sense.
Elevator "repair mechanics" replace hoist cables, burnt out motors and large machine bearings. The repair mechanic will spend about one or two days in a building before moving on to the next job. (In comparison the elevator "maintenance mechanic" figures out why the newly installed electric motor doesn't turn.)
A quintessential elevator "repair mechanic" is usually slow moving. He has a large frame and a few tattoos. Tom, a quintessential repair mechanic, also has reputation for being a little crazy even for a repair mechanic. Two stories follow him throughout the industry.
Tom needed to remove an old motor from a six storey building. He believed he could drop it down the shaft instead of walking it down the long and boring staircase. He asked the office about it while standing next to his helper, Joe. Tom's supervisor said "Let it sail!"
He dropped the motor down the elevator shaft. That motor hit a beam and went through a wall in a museum, knocking over a $5,000 statue. When the big boss found out the supervisor claimed he did not give any permission to Tom to drop anything. Tom took Joe in front of the big boss. Joe denied hearing "let it sail" from anyone. When they were outside Joe asked "You didn't expect to me rat, did you?" Tom was given two weeks off without pay.
Tom left work early one day (most days really) and his new helper made the mistake of informing the office. Tom hung his helper off a rooftop by his ankles. A simple and effective way of teaching helpers to keep their mouth shut.
In 1988 I traveled to work on the Long Island Rail Road with Tom and a few other elevator mechanics. We would sit in the same car. We spoke very little of work. Like most people, we would rather read the paper and/or sleep. A small group of men, myself included, would change at Jamaica for the diesel train to Hunters Point Avenue. Each day we would jump off the train as it was slowing down in the station. We didn't want to walk back from where the train actually stopped. Like parachuter's awaiting the red light, we jumped in sequence. Tom usually went first. We would climb down onto the tracks and cross over multiple tracks to a dead end street. One block later was a coffee shop.
____________________________
1996-97
A week after my 30th birthday I was standing at Columbus circle in Manhattan. Local 3 rented an auditiourm there for us to vote on working without a contract or going on strike. The place was crowded and the rumors concerning "what if?" were non-stop.I wasn't worried at all. All the elevator shops were busy with plenty of work. The last strike only lasted one week.Instead I talked about the large fountain in the middle of the large circle. A mechanic named Tom once poured gallons of liquid laundry detergent into the fountain to create bubbles. It worked but the fountain needed to be shut down for a few weeks after that.Local 3 represenatives wanted us on strike. They told us that working without a contact could mean not getting paid for the holidays. They said our pay rate could be lowered during the labor negioations. They were wrong on both accounts. And they knew it. But mechanics feared working without a contract, and limited union support.When the votes were counted we were on strike without any clue when negioations would even start. I had a mortgage, car loan and two kids in diapers. Gregory was also drinking formula like a thirsty soccer player.I applied to a Newday ad requesting escalator mechanics for the train system in Washinton D.C. It was the best move I could make but it required me to move and to fake fixing escalators. I never worked on an escalator so faking it would be interesting.That auditorium is no longer there.
________________________
Albert Einstein proved that time does not exist. "People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
What is stress?
Stress is the emotional and physical strain caused by our response to pressure from the outside world. “Stress is nothing more than a socially acceptable form of mental illness”
Most of that pressure is time related. We never seem to have enough time. This lack of time is more apparent during the very busy holiday season.
What is suppose to consume our time?
Sleep: 8 hours a day.
Work: 8 hours a day.
Commute to/from work: 1 hour a day.
Health-
Exercise: 1 hour a day.
Tooth brushing: 10 minutes per day
Shower: 10 minutes per day
Shaving: 5 minutes per day
Eating (includes preparing food): 65 minutes per day
Family time: 4.5 hours per day
Church: One Mass per week=10 minutes per day.
Reading: 1 hour per day
Have a car? Maintenance of a car will cost you more time. Accident and/or ticket? More time consumed.
Have a hobby? You should be doing some stuff you enjoy. How do you make the time?
Have a pet? Television? Computer? House? Sick relative? Laundry? Birthday party? Lawn? Kids?!
Now, for one month, add in Christmas shopping and family gatherings.
Total it all up and it comes to over 24 hours a day. Surprised? I thought not.
So here comes the fun part. We consciously begin to make priorities. No matter which area we cut time from we pay the price in other ways. And create stress!
No time to exercise gets us fat. No time to shower gets us lonely.
Want to multitask? Good luck!
Many people fantasize about hitting the lottery because freeing up time would be more enjoyable than buying stuff. Many websites and books dedicate themselves to relieving stress. But in reality the best way to lower stress is to understand the time factors work against us. We cannot possibly accomplish all that we should be doing in 24 hours. Let alone what we want to do.
In 1955 Albert Einstein, the man who proved time does not exist, died of old age.
______________________________
Building superintendents run a building and they drink coffee. They may work alone, in a small building, or head a department in larger buildings. He (usually a "he") needs a broad range of mechanical knowledge and access to hardware, paint, tools and cleaners. He is the man who signs out work order. He cleans up the carpet tracks when we lose direction and common sense.
Elevator "repair mechanics" replace hoist cables, burnt out motors and large machine bearings. The repair mechanic will spend about one or two days in a building before moving on to the next job. (In comparison the elevator "maintenance mechanic" figures out why the newly installed electric motor doesn't turn.)
A quintessential elevator "repair mechanic" is usually slow moving. He has a large frame and a few tattoos. Tom, a quintessential repair mechanic, also has reputation for being a little crazy even for a repair mechanic. Two stories follow him throughout the industry.
Tom needed to remove an old motor from a six storey building. He believed he could drop it down the shaft instead of walking it down the long and boring staircase. He asked the office about it while standing next to his helper, Joe. Tom's supervisor said "Let it sail!"
He dropped the motor down the elevator shaft. That motor hit a beam and went through a wall in a museum, knocking over a $5,000 statue. When the big boss found out the supervisor claimed he did not give any permission to Tom to drop anything. Tom took Joe in front of the big boss. Joe denied hearing "let it sail" from anyone. When they were outside Joe asked "You didn't expect to me rat, did you?" Tom was given two weeks off without pay.
Tom left work early one day (most days really) and his new helper made the mistake of informing the office. Tom hung his helper off a rooftop by his ankles. A simple and effective way of teaching helpers to keep their mouth shut.
In 1988 I traveled to work on the Long Island Rail Road with Tom and a few other elevator mechanics. We would sit in the same car. We spoke very little of work. Like most people, we would rather read the paper and/or sleep. A small group of men, myself included, would change at Jamaica for the diesel train to Hunters Point Avenue. Each day we would jump off the train as it was slowing down in the station. We didn't want to walk back from where the train actually stopped. Like parachuter's awaiting the red light, we jumped in sequence. Tom usually went first. We would climb down onto the tracks and cross over multiple tracks to a dead end street. One block later was a coffee shop.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Naked Tree
This years Christmas tree was first spotted by Megan behind our Volunteer Fire Department.
I never understood the point of cutting down a living tree for a religious purpose. Add in the fire and mold hazard and you have an appointment with disaster.
While shopping for a tree two years ago, in an unprovoked attack, my only son smashed a slush ball against the back of my head. As I reached for his throat I was stopped by the Christmas spirit. Or it was Lisa, I'm not sure.
A fake tree is safer. Cost less over time, saves time and is slightly less work to install.
So why do I battle the weather, cough up the cash and kill an afternoon? Why do I lie awake wondering if the toxic arborvitae has enough water?
Because my wonderful wife grew up with a real Christmas tree. Thanks Grandma.
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