A Stalworth Brotherhood of Adventurers! =)

A diverse and interesting group of individuals I work with; many a good deal larger than even a generous average. I'll begin with Rhen, a very slim fellow I'd judge to be about 6' 2". I first met Rhen upon the occasion of my attempting to decapitate my left thumb; Rhen is the first aid person. When I saw the blonde pigtails bobbing merrily towards me, I assumed, incorrectly as it turned out, that I was dealing with a tall construction lady. No, Rhen is all boy ....well, perhaps not all, but certainly bits and pieces. I didn't notice the eye shadow and mascara while purusing the mundane routine of cold water, disinfectant and bandaid. Nor did I percieve, immediatly, the lip gloss. No, it was the red finger nail polish that first caught my perplexed eye.








Rhen is a genuine free spirit, and interesting person to talk to, plants an accurate bandaid, and is a pleasure to work around/with. I've chatted with him several times in the few and brief possibilities that work allows. First I admired the black knit ski bonnet he wore with a white Skull & Cross bones, and mentioned that my daughter, Allison, would love it. Rhen then told me of a popular shop down on 22nd St. which he knew Allison would really like; I made note of it. He told me that his last job had been as security at a local establishment, and I was stymied to imagine Rhen tossing drunks around. One night a drunk put his fist through the window of a neighbouring store; the police and an ambulance were called immediatly, as the man had sliced his arm severely, and was bleeding profusely. Suddenly the drunk decided it was time to go home, and Rhen was told to bring him back; he followed the trail of blood and caught up with the guy in half a block. Rather than return to the scene of his criminal foolishness, the fellow wanted to fight; "So," said a reluctant Rhen, "I head butted him and down he went!" Finally, back at the shattered glass, the drunk decided he wanted to try his fisticuff skills again, and our modest hero had to sit on him untill the police arrived; "It was awful," Rhen said while shaking his head, "there I was sitting on this guy, and blood was everywhere; people started gathering around us, and I could see them thinking that I'd been the cause of all this bloodshed!" A good gentle soul is Rhen ....good to work with, great for a chat!

Geof is a framer, and a good solid frame he has too. The heavy arms, shoulders and chest of a serious weight lifter he possesses, and, you can just tell, that when his hand falls on a heavy stud, and he say's, 'Come 'ere!', that stud is going to do just as instructed! Geof does a little security work on the side, and, occasionally wears a black T-shirt that proclaims, Staff, on the front, and, on the back, a cautionary rejoinder; "If you're going to be stupid ....you better be tough!" I asked Geof about his weight lifting, and he told me, "I don't do it competitively, but I've been lifting since I was a kid. I'm out of shape now; the baby came a year ago, and we needed money, so I had to work more, and didn't have time to work out. I'm getting back in shape now!" Hmmm ....if that's out of shape ....I think I'd best not be stupid around this fellow.

Whether he's aware of the fact, or not, and I'm sure that he is, Geof is a natural comedian. I was laying flooring in one unit while Geof and his crew were framing a new unit beside mine. The friendly banter between them was hysterical! "Jeez," thought I, "if anyone sees me, all alone, in a room 60' long, laughing all by myself, I'm going to be fired! Or at least sent away for a little psyciatric evaluation! One day Julie had some papers that required my signature, and MISI allowed me to have them sent to their office, and then faxed them back for me. The only awkward part of the arrangement, was that I was working at the new shop, and the office equipment was still at the origional one. That meant that I had to race up to the top of the city on my half hour lunch, throw down several signatures, initial innumerable corrections, and make it back to our new location on time. I did that, just barely, and had had no time to eat my lunch, so, I stuck a sandwich in my pocket, and went to work, taking a bite whenever the pace allowed. Just as I was taking a bite, who should I run into but Geof, "Are you still eating?" he asked, sounding a little surprised! "Damn!" I thought, "There must be some rule!" Then Geof shook his head, as he said, in a sort of wistful tone, "I wish I was still eating!"

But the funniest thing was the first day I worked at the new location! We had sat down to lunch, and I didn't know anyone, so I was sitting there quietly, gnawing on a sandwich, and listening to the fellows. One young fellow, and I can't for the life of me remember who he was, mentioned that wearing gloves on the job was causing some of the skin on his hands to peel! "Real framers don't wear gloves," intoned Geof in a casual, warm tone, such as a good Uncle might use, in guiding a favoured nephew through some of life's intricacies! "Real Framers," continued Geof in his intructional way, "let their callouses build up. Eventually, the callouses get to the point that they are harder than your knuckles, with razor sharp edges where they've split! So a framer dosen't punch anybody ....he slaps them! It hurts way worse! And the best part," he concluded, "is that the guy is insulted! There He is, lying on the ground, in incredible pain, thinking," "That framer didn't respect me at all ....he didn't even punch me! He slapped me like a Bitch!" "Comic?" you ask, well, you have to admit ....that was a great 'Punch line!'

Not all of the boys is boys at MISI! There's a few girls too! I first met Jill a couple of weeks ago; her first day on the job. Myself, and a couple other lads, were working in one unit, and noticed Jill, working all by herself, in the unit next to us. Just a little whip of a thing, I'd doubt more than 120lbs, with short, tawney hair, and a very confident manner. But a Bullwhip she is; the trick to a bullwhip, in competant hands, is that, as the lash unfurls, the business end breaks the sound barrier, and Boom! ....sonic Boom at that! This girl is no stranger to a framing hammer; when I compare my own timid strokes with Stanley, to those laid down by Jill, I can see that I have a lot of catching up to do! Strikes like lightening, so she does, with unerring accuracy, and the hammer head crashes down exactly where her eye and arm sent it, Boom! And when Jill wails on walls, take my word for it, the building rocks!

Jill told me that she began her carpentry carreer at the age of 12, when she designed and built a deck for her parents house. Over the following years she completely reno'd their house, getting help from her grandparents, of whom two were electricians! As it stands now, she has put in the requiset hours to give her her journeyman carpenter's papers, and requires only one more course to attain it. Jill didn't apply for her position; she was head hunted, and hired as a crew boss. It amuses me to think of her compact self, issuing orders to these big, burly boys; but, while these fellows don't suffer fools gladly, they appreciate and respect competance, and there's quite a reserve of just that quality, wrapped up in that 120lb package!

Jamie was one of the first fellows I got to work with on my first day on the job, and a robust piece of work he is too! Perhaps an inch or so shorter than myself, the frame on this boy speaks for itself; built like a bull is Jamie, and not an inch to be pinched in sight! There's a grand old word, "Stalworth", which comes down to us from the Scotts, in the modern form, "Stalwart", and it conveys the following: "Strongly and stoutly built, sturdy and robust. Strong, brave, valient. Firm, steadfast and uncompromising." You have to admire a people who can frame all that into a single word! While I extend the term to all my recent companions in construction, it is to Jamie that the word best applies. Sparing of words, and a keeper, unless the situation demands, of his own council, he is quiet competence in action, with, when the situation warrants, and the time is just right, a sparkling gleam of truely wicked wit!

Uncompomising is the byword when working with Jamie; it's a pleasure to watch him work, (well, I enjoy watching anyone work, as long as it requires no effort on my part!), and also to observe his attention to miniscule detail. Jamie likes things done right! One afternoon he, Corban and myself, were putting up a little drywall; Jamie had left to get something, and Corban and I came up against a little problem that had us stumped. Jamie returned in the middle of our dilemma, and, stood for a second, taking the scene in; "Sometimes," he intoned, in a serious voice, with a shake of his head, "I think I could start a revolution!" Corban, who tends to get caught up in the moment, didn't quite hear the remark, puzzled on for a couple seconds, then, as the words penetrated his concentration, looked up, brow furrowed, and asked, What? ....a revolution? ....against who? Jamie, his gaze unvarying, and, oh so level, replied, "The White man! And it wouldn't last long!"

I've enjoyed working with Jamie on many occasions, doing a wide variety of jobs, and we get along well. I try to be attentive to his advice, and never fail to learn something useful from him. It's nice to be able, even in a small way, to return the favour. We had just gotten new 'chop' saws, nice little Bosch numbers, with a laser guide. Twice I noticed Jamie come over, cut a board, check the measurement, and return to the new saw to shave off another 1/16th of an inch ....remember, this fellow checks everything, and gets it right! After the second time I said, "Jamie, on these laser saws the blade dosen't cut on the line; the blade is offset so that it cuts exactly beside the line. His eye met mine, and with no expression, said two words, sweet to his co-workers ear, "Thanks man!"Often, when we're working togethe, or at least in proximity, seemingly out of nowhere, he utters a dark, witty comment, and, registering my face, to judge my comphrehension, administers a quick, sharp slap to my shoulder, with just a trace of a smile, to let me know he's joking. I wouldn't say that he commands respect, no, it just seems to fall into place naturally!

Corban is a pretty good piece of work as well; a native Calgarian, he followed his true love to Saskatoon, where she is training to be a pharmacist. A tall, healthy boy, he was raised in the construction business, and spent some time in California in the IT field. I asked him why he didn't pursue that field here, and he told me that it just dosen't pay in Canada; in California he could make $50.00 an hour, easily, but, north of the border the job commands less than he is making at MISI. An amiable fellow is Corban, and one I enjoy working with, but, I do get a smile out of his concentration, because, Corban, when faced with a challenge, gets right inside his own head, and is very focused. What makes it really interesting is, at those times, to make a little joke, and watch as, his train of thought derailed, he resurfaces! The brow is a little furrowed, and his eyes puzzled; for a second he thinks, then, generally with a shake of his head, says, "James ...your sense of humour!"

Three times in one day, while roofing, I nearly gave poor Corban a heart attack. No, it wasn't my unbalenced sese of humour, it was my unbalenced sense of balence! I had a lot of inner ear infections in my youth, and, subsequently, as those who know me well will attest, I'm not really what you might refer to as a balenced individual. Still, heights have never bothered me; they bothered my father, and, as a result, from about age 10 on, I became the roofer on the farm, and those old Ontario barn roofs sit a long way above terra firma! What complicates the matter, is that I'm equiped with a rebuilt knee, which is just not as reliable as it was 29 years ago. It is given to unpredictable 'failures' at irregular intervals, and my unbalenced self does not recover well. Leaping from rafter to rafter then takes on an air of 'Russian Roulette!" Corban, noting this, suggested that I go to Marty, the safety Bear, and inform him that I was incapable of working on the roof. Pride, I suppose, really does go before a fall, and I told Corban that I didn't want to start complaining; that everything would be just 'tickety-boo.' His mind, a little more balenced, in this regard, than my own, wasn't satisfied with my decision, and he narked me out! Subsequently, MISI will probably never, knowingly, allow me on a roof again; no, now they keep me as close to the floor as possible ....on all fours! It's good to work with capable people, who, not only know your best interests better than you do yourself, but take it upon themselves to act upon those best interests. A very fine fellow is Corbon.

Saturday evening is almost upon me, and I'm going to get dudded up to do my laundry; ....I'm almost out of duds! Times change, and Saturday evenings at 49 seem sort of lack-luster compared to those I remember 30 years ago. However, before I go, I will tell you one truely unfortunate story of a fellow I worked with here. Glen is a fine fellow, and I worked with him steadily for about a week; in that time we talked, and he told me that he'd been diabetic for 20 some years. After we got on separate jobs, I didn't see much of Glen, untill one day, when Tom was training him to drive a forklift, he went into insulin shock. Tom told me later that Glen hadn't seemed himself that day, and Tom felt that he must have, somehow, upset him. He became concerned when, during the Forklift training, Glen was driving haphazardly ....bumping into things that shouldn't be bumped into, so, he cancelled training for that day, and went on to other matters. Things seemed to be improving, and they decided on what to do next; Glen walked around a partition to begin his part of the task, and never came round the other side. Tom said that he'd not been too concerned, because he's forever telling people what to do, and, in the normal course of things, they get side tracked, doing something else; it happens all the time.

Then, from behind the partition came a crash! Tom rushed around, and found Glen seated on the floor! "Are you all right?" Tom demanded. "Yes," replied Glen, "I was backing up the forklift, and somehow, fell off!" Tom said, "Glen, there's no Forklift here!" With that he was very concerned, and got him to first aid immediatly, where a stiff shot of super Glucose solution brought him around immediately. Things seemed back to normal for the next few days, and Tom tried to keep Glen from taking on any tasks that were too strenuous. But, about a week later, they were putting away a large wooden construct that I won't, here, try to describe or explain. Glen faltered as he set his end down, and, pinched the end off his finger! A half of an inch of flesh, nail, and bone ....gone! Again Tom rushed him to first aid, where it was cleaned and wrapped, "Don't," warned Tom, "Take him to the hospital untill I get the finger tip, wrap it in gauze, and send it with you!" The reason for this is that it's easier to stitch up a wound of this type, if the missing piece of the puzzle is available. If it is not, then, in order for the skin connect, or bridge the wound, the bone of the finger must be ground down! Jeasus ...just the thought makes me cringe!

Glen was order off work for two weeks, and we didn't expect to hear much of him till that time was up, and we didn't ....untill yesterday. What we didn't know, and couldn't possibly have guessed, was that, when at the hospital for his finger injury, the medical personnel had taken blood, and found that Glen's was really out of whack. They had insisted that he stay untill it was under control. Glen refused to stay, and went home. Yesterday we learned that he'd been taken to the hospital in a diabetic coma, and his heart had to be jump started! Worse still, and as yet unconfirmed, that he was on life support, with no electrical activity in his brain. It's a sad day when a brother falls.

If nothing else, I've learned to take my fellow worker's concerns, and, more importent, their advice, very seriously. I want to be able to continue counting to ten with both boots on, and ....I won't be walking those planks! Thanks again Corban!

James (B. careful!) Mackay