Daily Work and Big Bill

I’ve yet to tell you about our work here in Alpaugh this past week. As of this moment in time, Green 6 has been constructing an observation deck in the marshy wetlands of Atwell Island (it’s not an island, but a park named an island. Go figure.) Our supervisors picked the plot of land, but had yet to do any work on it until we arrived. So we’re going build the whole thing from scratch. We began by attempting to dig thirty-two 30x30 inch square holes in the ground. This was one of those situations where we got right to it without a second thought, hoping to get it done quickly and move on. Dumb. The next emotion we felt was regret at not considering the consequences of our actions. We still haven’t finished digging half of them.

We dig each day for a while, but alongside that we have also have been inserting 300 pound, 8 to 13 foot metal pillars into the holes and pouring cement to hold them. Sounds easy enough, but it’s actually quite a process. Each person has a specific task that needs to be done at the necessary time. But there is a lot of standing around due the difference in time required to achieve each task. It’s also fun like woah. There’s an omnipresent sense of danger that excites everyone. These pillars are heavy mothas. And they are transported via a 5 pound chain attached to a tractor through muddy ground and around big holes. It’s fun stuff, extremely gratifying when you get one upright into a whole and cemented. As an aside, they call cement “SEAment” out here. Redonkulous. It sounds like they are saying something less relevant. Every time. And since we are laying pipe and digging box, you can imagine where my head is at. And SEAment. Absurd.

Our bosses name is Bill. He is a character from a western movie, or the head highway patrol officer in Super Troopers. He’s an elderly man, and wears this brown uniform consisting of chocolate cake colored pants and chocolate mousse colored shirt. He’s like a walking Hershey’s kiss. His mannerism is difficult to describe. On one occasion, he had left to get more SEAment, which takes a while, so we decided to take lunch a little early so we could get back to work while he was there. On the way back we encountered him driving the other way. We both slowed down, and our team leader proceeded to give a 2 minute explanation of why we were leaving early, stuttering over our reasoning and extending every tangent as long as socially tolerable. It was painful to listen to. Bill replies only with “See you then” and rolls away, leaving us awestruck and enlightened. A man of few words, for sure. He has that aura of power and knowledge that when he requires something of you, you want nothing more than to please him. Usually he gives you some terse, befuddling instructions, and watches to see how you do, correcting you as you inevitably do it wrong. (Teaching construction is kind of like trying to explain the rules of card games. No matter how many times you go over it, the new player usually has no idea what’s going on until you play a couple of rounds. Then he or she gets it.) There’s no better feeling than the one after he comments on your work with something as simple as “Now THAT’s how you pour concrete.” Rereading this description hasn’t given him justice, because he’s also friendly and mild-mannered. He’s a guy that knows his shit, makes fun of himself, and laughs at the simple things. Great boss.

Next: Dan’s new self-prescribed, uncomfortably regimented life