This is the way we push a 16000 pound 4 color printing press through a window into a new location. Mind you, I wasn’t there for this part of our move. Upstairs, I was fervently praying that the press (which is worth a good bit more than the house my family lives in) would not wind up in the basement.
Do you see the red headed gentleman in the foreground? Earlier in the day, he had taken great joy in pointing out the atrocious welding job our contractors had done to support the floor.
“It’ll never hold,” he said.
Thus spoken, he had no compunction whatsoever about driving the forklift to place a very heavy object on the floor that would never hold. In truth, the welds on the columns supporting the floor look like they could have been done by kindergarteners who had just been introduced to a Lincoln Welding machine. No . . . scratch that. The kindergarteners could have done a better job.
The floors held in answer to my prayers and much to the dismay of the red headed gentleman. AND the printshop got moved, thanks largely to the amazing efforts of Brian, Rickie, Jamaal, Todd, Sharon, Joe, Poor Richard’s poor kids, and other extended family, bystanders, and the occasional wino who wandered over from the Poplar Mart.
As their imperious leader, I should have been organized, in control, efficiently executing the careful plan we made for the move. Nope. Brian took that role. Aside from cringing upstairs while the presses came through the window, I played the role of troubleshooter. My job was to try to figure out the things that no one had planned for or even thought about
As an example, I am still wondering why a roofing crew would have completed three quarters of the roof, leaving the remaining part uncovered. We have been experiencing a drought. Do you suppose that they concluded that roofs really weren’t all that necessary any more?
I also wonder why the alarm company would connect the alarm to the response center before the system was completely installed, before anyone was trained, and before a password had been assigned to turn the dang thing off.
These marvels led to the hilarious coincidence that brought the entire Macon, Georgia fire department into my building in full regalia looking for a fire that didn’t exist at the same time I’m trying to figure out why the roof is leaking during the first rainstorm in over a month. I did discover that even if the alarm company will not turn the alarm off in your building, you can unplug the batteries and all of the electrical power that goes into the alarm control box and it will stop making noise.
This makes the entire Macon, Georgia fire department calmer. It does not make them so calm that they’ll help you look for leaks on the roof, though. They deal with fire, not water. But they do enjoy coffee.
The print shop is up and running despite a few little kinks and grumbles from the equipment (and from Joe, who is not fond of change). The owner? Hmm . . . not so sure. Check back with me in a week or so.