Originally, I didn't do so well at this new company. The first two weeks, for whatever reason, I just couldn't get a grasp on things. Sure, when you're starting out on a new job, it's going to take a while to get the hang of things. But with this company, you didn't get a long time to adjust. You fit in, or you didn't. Their turn over rate was exceedingly high for the area, and over the next couple of years I personally saw more than 100 people come and go throughout the plant. In a company that only had 325 or so employees, that's a high percentage.
Anyways, it was bad enough for me that I think they were going to let me go, but I knew someone who worked there and I believe, though it was never verified, that she suggested they let me try my hand in another shop. I was transferred, and did exceedingly well. Within four months, I was a machine operator and I was the one handling the schedule, deciding basically who and when to put on what project according to customer demands. I had no official authority of course, but over the next couple of years, i was the one running the line. People came to me with thier problems, I had to solve production issues, I ran the line according to the schedule, I was the one who was held accountable for things if they went wrong.
This company went through many changes in regards to custmer demands. As a result, at times they woudl require special shifts to operate the machine, in order to meet demand. I volunteered for weekend shift when it was needed, I volunteered for the 12 hours shifts whent they were needed, and I always did overtime. It was during my work on that line that I met the person who was to be my first serious relationship. We dated for a year exactly, starting on Valentine's day, ending the next year same day. It was ok, we parted on good terms, both realizing things just weren't what we were looking for.
Over the years, I met people, friends, girlfriends. Eventually I applied for and became a Lead, which was exactly what I had already been doing for the last five-six years but without the actual title. I had a friend at the time who had needed a place to stay, so soon enough I had a room-mate.
While I was the Lead on Swing Shift, the company decied they were going to implement Lean philosophies into the company. It was all new to all of us, so we had to wing it as we went. I ran the only line on Swing shift in our department. Day shift had 7 and we had one. There was little to no communication or support from Day shift managers or engineers, so we pretty much had to figure things out the best we could. We made imporvement over the builds we were doing. The largest improvement coming from one build in which we reduced the process time by over 55% and reduced required assemblers by 45%. What took 5 days and 7 people now took 3 days and 4 people. It was quite an improvement, Unfortunately, it was also an improvement completely overlooked and down played by the day shift manager, and my line never received the proper recognition they deserved.
Eventually, the need for the Swing shift ended, and I went to days. Upon going to days, I realized they had made almost zero improvements to the build lines. All the time we had been told we were so far behind, and we were the only ones who had followed through to even the smallest degree. Many of the improvements we had made were lost so the builds could once again be filtered into dayshift build lines without disturbing too many of their processes.
I had to wait for an opening to be a Lead again. When it came, I took it. During my last stint as a Lead, I apparently became too involved with my line. I began noticing how some of the employees were being treated poorly by management (one in particular) through blatant lies, insults, and various degradations. I began trying to facilitate some changes, trying to smooth over the field and bring some of these issues to upper management's awareness.
During this time, I met a wonderful lady. The most wonderful anyone could ever hope to find. She was everything; funny, pretty, cute, gorgeous, smart, everything that a person truly wants but is afraid they will never find. I was lucky, and she found me. She had two children, both with autism. We grew closer and closer, and soon she was my best friend. Soon after that, she was much, much more to me.
My company had decided that it was best to ignore the proven lies told about it's employees by its management and members of its engineering crew. These employees then received some of the worst treatment I have ever witnessed in my years working, and it became too much. I could not help, and I would not sit idly by and watch these people be treated that way. Then something happened to me directly as a retaliation from my manager for pointing out the lies being told, so I quit.
My wonderful girfriend is the most supportive woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. She held me up, and backed me up. If it hadn't been for her, I am sure I would have been sitting in a chair right now, assembling parts for that same company, my head bent low, my drive and care forced from me from the very company I worked for. I would have been a shell, nothing more. I know this from experience. I know what I am like. She saved me from this, from myself.
I now live with her and her two amazing children. Everyday they remind me how lucky I am to have them in my life. Everyday I thank God for them, and I pray I never lose them. In what will follow this introduction, The Life I love Parts I, II, and III, I will endeaver to protray the reasons I find myself now living such a wonderful, fullfilled life, and why I love it with all my heart and soul.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
The Life I Love Part II
I moved to southern Arizona when I was in the 6th grade. I spent the next 9-10 years there, give or take. I suppose that means you could say that's where I grew up. I went through the oh-so-wonderful 'P' stage of youthful life, had my first touch of love, and a lot of the other things that make up a person's unique life history.
My first crush was Jennifer. Jr. High School. I still remember pretty well. She was the girl in school who does everything, sports, clubs, groups. Everyone knew who she was. Of course she was also one of the smartest of course. She was popular, but not in the popular girl kind of way, it was just that every knew who she was because she did so many things. Naturally I never actually talked to her. Too shy, too unsure, too embarassed. Usual reasons. She knew I liked her though. Looking back I am sure she would have gone out with me if I had asked. Don't know if she would have liked me, but she would have given me an honest chance, of that I am certain. She was a nice person.
But I also remember, rather fondly, something my sister said at a function at the school one time. I can't recall what the function was, maybe it was graduation. But my family was there. My sister and I have always been close, at least to me we have. I naturally told her who I liked. When they announced Jennifer's name, they followed it up with all the awards and clubs and achievements she had gotten over the short two years.
"No way," my sister said plainly, smiling at me. She didn't mean it in a bad way. She just knew her brother, and at the time, the girl was out of my league, plain and simple. I loved my sister for being up front and honest with me.
My first love (not my first girlfriend mind you) wasn't until High School, and did not go so well. It was a typical story. Boy meets boy (wait until the story is finished before forming any thoughts), boys become best friends, second boy meets girl, they date, he leaves her, first boy is asked why by girl, first boy befriends her (yes, only befriends), boy falls in love, girl goes back to second boy and first boy is crushed, second boy gets her pregant and leaves her, first boy tries to be her friend, tries to help her raise her baby a little, nothing ever happens between the two.
See? Typical.
I had dropped out of High School while in 11th grade. They weren't teaching me anything I didn't already know. Unfortunately, that outlook was only mostly correct. They weren't teaching me anything new, but I didn't graduate. Now I know I should have, even if I didn't learn more. When I dropped out, I joined a training program that taught people trades for free. I started learning a bit about computers, then went to construction instead. Once I completed that, I worked with the instructor for a couple months as his assistant. It was all right, but it wasn't meant to be.
I then found a job at Jack in the Box and stayed there for about 6 months, working through the fryer, the grill, counter and window. I was going to consider management training.
But when I was 22, my exceptionally wonderful mother moved to northern Idaho, which pretty much meant I no longer had any ties to Arizona. No family, and all my friends had moved on. It was apparent that it was time to begin the next chapter of my life. So I did.
I had a friend from Arizona who had moved to Colorado who I had been keeping in touch with. At age 23, I moved there and got a job as a maintanence man for a really nice mobile home park. Let me tell you, that was quite a shock, going from southern AZ to Denver, CO. in the middle of winter. I went from sun and sand to snow and ice in a matter of a day. My body almost didn't make it. I stayed there for nine months and gained close to 60 pounds. Insulation I guess.
It was a go-nowhere job. Nice place, nice people, great boss, but for me, it wasn't where I wanted to be. I had family in Idaho, other than just my mother, so I made a few calls and when I was 24 I decided to visit my family in Idaho for Christmas for only 2 weeks.
It was one of the most beautiful places I had been, that I remembered anyways. Tree covered mountains, dark green grass, streams, rivers, lakes. Even the air was sharp and crisp. I have lived here ever since.
I may have grown up physically in AZ, but this is where I feel I have grown up mentally and emotionally. Every place a person lives, everything they do, only leads them to the life they are supposed to live. Everything I had done and experienced was leading to this place and this life. Of course, I didn't recognize that at the time, I was just going through life the way I thought I should.
I found a job almost immediately after deciding to stay, I had no intention of freeloading off my mother and stepfather. It was a production company. I did well, I have always been good with hand-eye coordination, and that was what this was all about. 'Build this and build it fast' was their motto. I could do that quite well. And I stayed with them for the next 11 years.
My first crush was Jennifer. Jr. High School. I still remember pretty well. She was the girl in school who does everything, sports, clubs, groups. Everyone knew who she was. Of course she was also one of the smartest of course. She was popular, but not in the popular girl kind of way, it was just that every knew who she was because she did so many things. Naturally I never actually talked to her. Too shy, too unsure, too embarassed. Usual reasons. She knew I liked her though. Looking back I am sure she would have gone out with me if I had asked. Don't know if she would have liked me, but she would have given me an honest chance, of that I am certain. She was a nice person.
But I also remember, rather fondly, something my sister said at a function at the school one time. I can't recall what the function was, maybe it was graduation. But my family was there. My sister and I have always been close, at least to me we have. I naturally told her who I liked. When they announced Jennifer's name, they followed it up with all the awards and clubs and achievements she had gotten over the short two years.
"No way," my sister said plainly, smiling at me. She didn't mean it in a bad way. She just knew her brother, and at the time, the girl was out of my league, plain and simple. I loved my sister for being up front and honest with me.
My first love (not my first girlfriend mind you) wasn't until High School, and did not go so well. It was a typical story. Boy meets boy (wait until the story is finished before forming any thoughts), boys become best friends, second boy meets girl, they date, he leaves her, first boy is asked why by girl, first boy befriends her (yes, only befriends), boy falls in love, girl goes back to second boy and first boy is crushed, second boy gets her pregant and leaves her, first boy tries to be her friend, tries to help her raise her baby a little, nothing ever happens between the two.
See? Typical.
I had dropped out of High School while in 11th grade. They weren't teaching me anything I didn't already know. Unfortunately, that outlook was only mostly correct. They weren't teaching me anything new, but I didn't graduate. Now I know I should have, even if I didn't learn more. When I dropped out, I joined a training program that taught people trades for free. I started learning a bit about computers, then went to construction instead. Once I completed that, I worked with the instructor for a couple months as his assistant. It was all right, but it wasn't meant to be.
I then found a job at Jack in the Box and stayed there for about 6 months, working through the fryer, the grill, counter and window. I was going to consider management training.
But when I was 22, my exceptionally wonderful mother moved to northern Idaho, which pretty much meant I no longer had any ties to Arizona. No family, and all my friends had moved on. It was apparent that it was time to begin the next chapter of my life. So I did.
I had a friend from Arizona who had moved to Colorado who I had been keeping in touch with. At age 23, I moved there and got a job as a maintanence man for a really nice mobile home park. Let me tell you, that was quite a shock, going from southern AZ to Denver, CO. in the middle of winter. I went from sun and sand to snow and ice in a matter of a day. My body almost didn't make it. I stayed there for nine months and gained close to 60 pounds. Insulation I guess.
It was a go-nowhere job. Nice place, nice people, great boss, but for me, it wasn't where I wanted to be. I had family in Idaho, other than just my mother, so I made a few calls and when I was 24 I decided to visit my family in Idaho for Christmas for only 2 weeks.
It was one of the most beautiful places I had been, that I remembered anyways. Tree covered mountains, dark green grass, streams, rivers, lakes. Even the air was sharp and crisp. I have lived here ever since.
I may have grown up physically in AZ, but this is where I feel I have grown up mentally and emotionally. Every place a person lives, everything they do, only leads them to the life they are supposed to live. Everything I had done and experienced was leading to this place and this life. Of course, I didn't recognize that at the time, I was just going through life the way I thought I should.
I found a job almost immediately after deciding to stay, I had no intention of freeloading off my mother and stepfather. It was a production company. I did well, I have always been good with hand-eye coordination, and that was what this was all about. 'Build this and build it fast' was their motto. I could do that quite well. And I stayed with them for the next 11 years.
Friday, February 13, 2009
The Life I Love Part I
Hi. My name is Tim. I am 36 years old and am finally living a life I feel is worth living. I am a pretty avaerge kind of guy, I suppose. Not too tall, not too short. I have been told I am good looking, but I have also been told I am not. I laugh a lot, I love to laugh. During my life, laughter has been the one constant friend I could always count on. Granted, there were times when I had to find it myself, and no one else knew quite what i was laughing about, but I think that's the way it goes sometimes.
I want to give brief history about myself. Unfortunately it has to be brief because in truth I don't remember a whole lot about growing up. My family, mother, father, two older sisters and one older brother (yes I am the baby) moved around a lot when I was young. At least I consider it a lot. My parents found work where they could, which meant we moved. I hear horror stories about children of military parents who have been forced to move 4-5 times, and I chuckle. Oregon, Idaho, Washington, North Carolina, California, Florida, Montana, Arkansas, Arizona...I've held some kind of residence in all these places before I was 16. Some states we lived in more than one town.
I am not complaining. They did what they knew how to do. They raised us the best they could. Sure there were times we were hungry, but I don't think there was ever a time we went without food. Even if it was just bologna and cheese sandwiches. No, I am not complaining, I don't waste my time pretending that it has fractured my delicate mental quality. I love my parents and tehy love me, and life is life.
What I am saying though is that growing up with that seemingly habitual rouine of moving has taken something from me I think most people have. And that is the ability to hang on to certain things. Things, places, even people, more directly friends, became less important to me, since I knew that chances are I wouldn't know them for more than a year or so. I was young. I dind't understand then that that is a way of life anyway. People come and go, and you should cherish the time you have with them, even the ones you don't like. All I knew really was 'I have friends, my firends are gone, I have no friends, I have friends again, my friends are gone again'.
I coped with these changes by moving on. Pushing those thoughts of where I came from from my mind, and only seeing where I was. The problem was that I was a child. 'Moving on' meant something entirely different then the wisened know. It meant leaving behind. This repeated 'leaving behind' left me with an almost inability to recall previous experiences. I can now, quite literally if I attempted to do so, sit down and count the exact number of memories I have before entering the 6th grade. I never lerned how to train and practice long term memories. I had no need. The people I would never see again, the places were on the other side of the country. I had a hard enough time trying to fit in where I was.
The other draw back was that, because I was a kid and emotional, most of the slivers of memeories I have tend to be not of a fun and delightful nature. I naturally enough remember mostly the bad parts. Not because there were so many, but because dealing with hurts and pains and disappointments help us define who we are at young ages. It's called growing up. I have happy memories too. but I would say it's four bad to one good. I would like to make it clear that teh bad are in no way horrendous, just...bad.
I would have to say the worst 'side effect' of it all came when I was in 8th grade. We had lived in the same place for over a year, and I had been going to the same Jr. High school for over a year. It wasn't far away; two blocks over, two blocks down. Can't get easier than that, unless it was only one block. Well, I went to sleep one night,e verything just fine. But when I woke in the morning, I noticed something was wrong. It started out normal enough. I was woke by my mother. I stood and started to get dressed. Halfway through putting my clothes on I realized I had no idea why I was getting dressed. What was I doing? I was putting on my pants, sure, but what came after that? I didn't know. I don't think anyne really noticed what was wrong. It probably just looked like I was having a bad day. Everything seemed foreign to me though. Not my family, but everything else. When I finally stepped outside, I had no idea where I was. I knew I was home, but I dind't know where that home was. I was standing on gravel and I had no idea where I was supposed to be going. School. But where was that? Nothing, absolutely nothing, looked familiar. The houses were all new, the ground was all new, I didn't know north from south, nothing.
I turned around and even the front of my own house looked strange. I had never been there. I walked a little ways, but nothing was familiar. I eventually went back inside, since I dind't know where to go, and was able to convince my mother something was wrong. That I didn't know.
When I did get to school, it was nearly the same thing. I had a very vague impression of the classes. People, friends, seemed new to me. I didn't know my own friends. I didn't know acquaintences from close friends. I didn't know teachers. I didn't know a lot. I don't remember what happened the rest of that day. I think I just went thorugh the motions, trying to pay attention and hoping no one noticed I was a freak of some sort.
That was the worst time. I had to relearn my life. That wasn't fun. Talk about feeling like an outcast. Alone.
I have had a couple episodes like this, only the others were no where near as harsh. I would wake up and the last three days would be gone, or maybe a week or two. It's only happened maybe four times, but it has taught me one thing that i hope I never lose. I am me, no matter how much of the outside world I forget. My heart is my own, it is not dependant on the world around me. My mind is my own, it is not dependant on the world around me.
If you take away the world, who are you? I know the answer to that question now. I don't think many do. That's not to say I like the answer, I am just saying I know it.
I want to give brief history about myself. Unfortunately it has to be brief because in truth I don't remember a whole lot about growing up. My family, mother, father, two older sisters and one older brother (yes I am the baby) moved around a lot when I was young. At least I consider it a lot. My parents found work where they could, which meant we moved. I hear horror stories about children of military parents who have been forced to move 4-5 times, and I chuckle. Oregon, Idaho, Washington, North Carolina, California, Florida, Montana, Arkansas, Arizona...I've held some kind of residence in all these places before I was 16. Some states we lived in more than one town.
I am not complaining. They did what they knew how to do. They raised us the best they could. Sure there were times we were hungry, but I don't think there was ever a time we went without food. Even if it was just bologna and cheese sandwiches. No, I am not complaining, I don't waste my time pretending that it has fractured my delicate mental quality. I love my parents and tehy love me, and life is life.
What I am saying though is that growing up with that seemingly habitual rouine of moving has taken something from me I think most people have. And that is the ability to hang on to certain things. Things, places, even people, more directly friends, became less important to me, since I knew that chances are I wouldn't know them for more than a year or so. I was young. I dind't understand then that that is a way of life anyway. People come and go, and you should cherish the time you have with them, even the ones you don't like. All I knew really was 'I have friends, my firends are gone, I have no friends, I have friends again, my friends are gone again'.
I coped with these changes by moving on. Pushing those thoughts of where I came from from my mind, and only seeing where I was. The problem was that I was a child. 'Moving on' meant something entirely different then the wisened know. It meant leaving behind. This repeated 'leaving behind' left me with an almost inability to recall previous experiences. I can now, quite literally if I attempted to do so, sit down and count the exact number of memories I have before entering the 6th grade. I never lerned how to train and practice long term memories. I had no need. The people I would never see again, the places were on the other side of the country. I had a hard enough time trying to fit in where I was.
The other draw back was that, because I was a kid and emotional, most of the slivers of memeories I have tend to be not of a fun and delightful nature. I naturally enough remember mostly the bad parts. Not because there were so many, but because dealing with hurts and pains and disappointments help us define who we are at young ages. It's called growing up. I have happy memories too. but I would say it's four bad to one good. I would like to make it clear that teh bad are in no way horrendous, just...bad.
I would have to say the worst 'side effect' of it all came when I was in 8th grade. We had lived in the same place for over a year, and I had been going to the same Jr. High school for over a year. It wasn't far away; two blocks over, two blocks down. Can't get easier than that, unless it was only one block. Well, I went to sleep one night,e verything just fine. But when I woke in the morning, I noticed something was wrong. It started out normal enough. I was woke by my mother. I stood and started to get dressed. Halfway through putting my clothes on I realized I had no idea why I was getting dressed. What was I doing? I was putting on my pants, sure, but what came after that? I didn't know. I don't think anyne really noticed what was wrong. It probably just looked like I was having a bad day. Everything seemed foreign to me though. Not my family, but everything else. When I finally stepped outside, I had no idea where I was. I knew I was home, but I dind't know where that home was. I was standing on gravel and I had no idea where I was supposed to be going. School. But where was that? Nothing, absolutely nothing, looked familiar. The houses were all new, the ground was all new, I didn't know north from south, nothing.
I turned around and even the front of my own house looked strange. I had never been there. I walked a little ways, but nothing was familiar. I eventually went back inside, since I dind't know where to go, and was able to convince my mother something was wrong. That I didn't know.
When I did get to school, it was nearly the same thing. I had a very vague impression of the classes. People, friends, seemed new to me. I didn't know my own friends. I didn't know acquaintences from close friends. I didn't know teachers. I didn't know a lot. I don't remember what happened the rest of that day. I think I just went thorugh the motions, trying to pay attention and hoping no one noticed I was a freak of some sort.
That was the worst time. I had to relearn my life. That wasn't fun. Talk about feeling like an outcast. Alone.
I have had a couple episodes like this, only the others were no where near as harsh. I would wake up and the last three days would be gone, or maybe a week or two. It's only happened maybe four times, but it has taught me one thing that i hope I never lose. I am me, no matter how much of the outside world I forget. My heart is my own, it is not dependant on the world around me. My mind is my own, it is not dependant on the world around me.
If you take away the world, who are you? I know the answer to that question now. I don't think many do. That's not to say I like the answer, I am just saying I know it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)