Chapter Fourteen: My Office Has A Window

My Office Has A Window

It was 1980. A new decade. A new hope. Hopefully a new job. I was 20 years old and a Junior in college when the planets cosmically aligned thus setting me on a strange and bizarre sojourn as a newly hired employee at a little red pole barn in Columbiana. This sojourn is titled, “My Office Has A Window” even though in reality, there were no windows at all.

Chapter Fourteen – Occupational Hazards

During the lean summer months at the little red pole barn, we would look for things to keep us amused. One particular day we hunted down the Moomis, (A new employee of the company) and shrink-wrapped him to a chair. To those who are unaware what shrink-wrap is, its like industrial strength Reynolds wrap used to keep sandwiches fresh. The Moomis was securely wrapped to the chair. He wasn’t going anywhere. We then added rotting watermelons that we had eaten earlier that day and placed them all over him. To complete the torture, we let the watch dog Sandy jump up on him and lick all the sour and sticky juice off him. (Yes, we were sick bastards)

No one was safe. Not even the veteran employees. The Lagootz (Another employee) was going about his normal everyday business repairing several of the trailers that were parked out back. He had climbed up on one of the trailers with the ladder to spray wasp killer on a nest. From out of nowhere, Barney, seizing an opportunity, pulled Lagootz’s shorts clean off and ran away. Lagootz, being only in tidy whiteys, chased Barney right into the warehouse that was crowded at the time yelling and screaming at Barney to give him back his shorts.

This brings us to another occupational hazard at the Columbiana warehouse. They were of course the “Deadly Plastic Straps” wrapped around the incoming product. The straps were meant to secure the contents in the box and to allow easier loading and unloading by using the straps to pick the cases up. But not these straps. The ones we received were flimsy and poorly secured to the cartons. Hence, they often fell off the cases and eventually would wind up in the middle of the parking lot waiting for an unsuspecting pair of feet to get snared in them. We were to lazy to pick them up and the seasoned veterans knew to avoid the straps at all costs. If one were so unlucky enough to get caught in the wake of the straps, you became as helpless as a dolphin caught in a tuna net. The more you would struggle, the more your feet would get tangled until finally you were introduced to the pavement.

The longer the straps laid on the pavement, they would fray and slowly move towards the entrance of the pole barn. The frayed straps made them even more dangerous expanding the probability of someone’s feet to stumble into the lair. Many unsuspecting people walking in and out of the warehouse succumbed to the strap trap.

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San Francisco Fog – Something Lurks Inside

Patty and I were in San Francisco recently and we stayed at the Holiday Inn on Van Ness Avenue. (BTW, the hotel restaurant was never open the entire 5 days we were there) Now I have heard tall tales about how thick and how fast the fog rolls in from the ocean. The three photographs below were taken from our hotel window, (What a view huh?) in the span of an hour. Now I believe.

The Fog 1

The Fog 2

The Fog 3

Photo one: An almost clear view to the ocean and the city including the San Francisco cable cars can be easily seen. (Click the thumbnail for a much larger version)
Photo two: The fog rolls in quickly engulfing the city.
Photo three: Total immersion of the fog.

I told Patty we should hurry down to the street so we could meet Adrienne Barbeau, Jamie Lee Curtis and Janet Leigh. She looked at me puzzled like I had gone mad. I explained that San Francisco used to be an old fishing town built over an old leper colony and when the fog rolls in the former inhabitants (Zombies) come back and exact revenge.

That evening we had a hauntingly good time. The Fog is the true San Francisco treat.

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Chapter Thirteen: My Office Has A Window

My Office Has A Window

It was 1980. A new decade. A new hope. Hopefully a new job. I was 20 years old and a Junior in college when the planets cosmically aligned thus setting me on a strange and bizarre sojourn as a newly hired employee at a little red pole barn in Columbiana. This sojourn is titled, “My Office Has A Window” even though in reality, there were no windows at all.

Chapter 13 Wham Bam Thank You Mam

(hey man) oh leave me alone you know
(hey man) oh Henry, get off the phone, I gotta
(hey man) I gotta straighten my face
This mellow thighed chick just put my spine out of place

One day, early in June, Mac (The American Legion Lover) was bent over on his hands and knee’s stocking the shelves in the warehouse when out of nowhere Barney came sneaking in. Being the prankster that he was, Barney snuck up behind Mac and attempted to mount him. He then started to simulate a sex act so heinous, decorum won’t permit me to describe it.

This was a harmless prank for sure, but Barney did not notice that he had an audience. There were customers in the warehouse shopping and they looked on in horror. Perhaps they thought they were witnessing the filming of an X-rated movie. All that was needed was some funky 70′s disco music to complete the scene. (Bow Chica Bow wow) Unbeknownst to Mac and Barney, the customers could see them plain as day and they started to scatter out of the showroom faster than the infamous “Ouzo Gyro Combo Night” clearing of the warehouse by our one and only Benny.

Luckily, no complaints were filed, (Hell, we were in farrn country. Perhaps this type of act was expected) nor were there any phone orders for the new “Warehouse Video” and life as we knew it was back to normal for the crew. Except, from that day on, Mac and the rest of us assumed a different posture when stocking the shelves, ever keeping a vigil eye on where Barney was at all times.

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Chapter Twelve: My Office Has A Window

My Office Has A Window

It was 1980. A new decade. A new hope. Hopefully a new job. I was 20 years old and a Junior in college when the planets cosmically aligned thus setting me on a strange and bizarre sojourn as a newly hired employee at a little red pole barn in Columbiana. This sojourn is titled, “My Office Has A Window” even though in reality, there were no windows at all.

Chapter Twelve – The Bug Light God

As the days got longer and turned into night, we, the warehouse workers, like moths to a flame, would gravitate toward the almighty bug light. Looking for inner peace, solace, wisdom, meaning, and a little relief from the biting bugs that lived and fed in Youngstown, Ohio.

Since we had to work outside the warehouse as well as inside, the summer months were brutal with swarms of pests buzzing around. Biting flies, mosquitoes, moths, gnats, grasshoppers, locusts, bee’s, wasps, and every other flying insect under the sun would zero in on the only source of flesh and light in the vast farmland that surrounded us.

Every year, right around this time, to combat these bastards, we dragged out the giver of light and reliever of itch from the biblical swarms of insects. Thus the religion of The Eternal Bug Light was formed.

After several years, the bug light became an icon and more importantly, a God to us warehouse workers. If we were in the bug lights good graces, it would have pity on us and bestow its powers shining its light upon us to protect us by killing and keeping the insects away from us. If we were to ever fall out of favor with the almighty bug light, the consequences were so severe that no one ever talked about them, not even under our breath lest the bug light god hear us.

To keep the god happy, we needed to pay homage. This was in the form of an annual ceremony, a sort of Fry Me A Bug Light festival to appease the god. The ritual began by preparing the holy power cord for insertion into the electrical outlet. We would then arrange and pay homage to the enchanted nail that magically kept the god suspended above us. Finally, we would prepare a feast for the entire cult to consume.

The festival seemed to work as the bug light god kept us safe in the summer evenings as we heard the humming of electricity coursing through its wire mesh screens. Sometimes we would gather round the god and cheer as loud crackling and zapping noises would announce each new bug checking into the bug light hotel.

And not just bugs either. Our bug light god was a little dangerous because unlike normal lights, ours did not have a front or bottom screen guard to keep out larger objects such as a very unlucky bird or the bottom of someone’s head. The light was suspended just under 6 feet in the air, and tall worshippers who lost sight of where they were in conjunction with the light would get rudely introduced to their god. As in the bible, they would carry the mark of the beast for several weeks until the burn marks healed.

Alas, one evening, a large bird entered the radar screen of the bug light god. In an instant, the bird dive bombed into the light and got caught inside. High pitched zapping sounds were heard much like in the classic movie “Frankenstein” when the monster was struck by lightning in an electrical storm.

A huge battle had begun. The bug light flickered and hummed, summoning up all it’s power while the bird began screeching and fluttering it’s wings, till finally, both burst into flames sending the worshippers running. The bug light came crashing to the ground as we watched the flames engulf both bird and light.

In a moment, we were free of the bug light god as it lay dead smoldering on the concrete floor. The next day, a new dawn, a rule was sent forth that no longer would bug lights adorn our warehouse wall. We stocked up on “Off” bug repellent and continued to have the festival that quickly turned into our annual lamb roast.

To this day, I can still vividly recall the sound, sight, and smell, of the bug light and the bugs as they met their demise sizzling in the screens. Man, that was living….

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