Read at your own risk. No Life Guard on Duty!
I don't know what the point of this is, I think I had one when I started writing it, but I'm not sure where it went. I kind of got to reminiscing, and rambling more than anything, so read at your own risk. I'm not sure there are any pearls of wisdom to glean from this, and it kind of turned into a novel. Maybe just call it an anecdote of that one time Lee worked in a fab shop. Sorry it turned into a novel.
There's all kinds of variables and all kinds of personalities, not to mention regional differences. Grandma would just say, "it takes all kinds." I'm not a professional weldor or fabricator, but a little over a decade ago I worked with several of them, and there were indeed "all kinds."
I got hired as the designer, CAD/CAM/CNC operator, general IT, inventory manager, purchaser, bid-quoter, "all other duties as assigned," person, affectionately (I think) called, "college boy," at a boutique trailer fab shop, right out of grad school. We called ourselves a specialty trailer manufacturer, but we made all kinds of stuff, '07-'08 were lean years, and we bid on just about every contract under the sun.
I went to school for environmental science, but spent an ill-fated 3 semesters in undergrad as an engineering major, before I decided that calculus didn't agree with me, and changed majors. While I was on the engineering track, I took a drafting class, and the lab for that class was AutoCAD. I hated having to go to the computer lab to do homework, and discovered that a student license, at that time, for AutoCAD wasn't any more expensive than one of my science class' books, so I bought my own copy of AutoCAD.
Like a lot of us GRMers, I enjoy tinkering, and designing stuff, so I continued using my AutoCAD skills long after I exited the engineering track. That, and being good friends with the shop's Air Gas sales rep, is what got me the job at the fab shop.
That shop had some truly talented weldors, yeah I spelled it with an "o," a weldor is a person, a welder is a machine.
One of the best weldors had done federal time for cooking & selling meth, he kind of looked the part, it was obvious what group he allied himself with on the "inside," as his cover up tattoos didn't do that great of a job at hiding the swastika tattoos he got in prison. I guess stereotypes are based in truth right? He was mostly harmless, a hard worker, and super talented at stitching metal together. His younger brother, think of Dale Ernhardt Jr. but on meth, and sounds a little like Boomhauer, was equally talented at sticking stuff together, but had a head for fabricating, and I frequently bounced ideas off of him. Both of the brothers were self taught, no certifications, just got started welding as kids, and made a living at it, at least part time. We had another guy who came from the northeast, he claimed to have all kinds of certs, was in the Boilermaker's union, and was full of himself, he was indeed our best TIG weldor, but that didn't make up for his attitude. We had a guy named "Eric," we later found out he was undocumented, all of his papers were forgeries, and he'd already been deported at least once for forgery. "Eric" was about as good as anyone with a MIG torch, but spent most of his time doing layout and prep work. There were a handful of other regulars and part-timers that came and went depending on what contract work we were doing, and how big the jobs were, but those 4 for were the regulars.
I'm super proud of some of the stuff we made. I still occasionally spot my 4 & 6 yard dumpsters in use by a particular local landfill/recycler. No one else seems to get very excited when I say, "hey, that's one of my dumpsters."
Despite that colorful band of misfits, that shop really turned out some neat stuff.
What finally killed it was mostly management, the economy didn't help any for sure, but we could have weathered the recession had we done several things differently. The guy that ran the place was totally out of his element, he had made his living in a totally different business. He happened to design something specific to his line of work, and started having it built locally. It sold well, he got some name recognition, then through more or less blind-dumb-luck, became a millionaire overnight by selling some property, that thanks to some near-by development vastly inflated its value. With money burning a hole in his pocket he decided to quit paying other shops to make his product, he'd just start his own fab shop.
He was the stereotypical "salesman," he had some redeeming qualities, but most of them were overshadowed by vanity. The economy was in the crapper, we weren't paying our creditors, and eventually got put on a "cash only" list with most of our vendors. We started out in a rented space, but that didn't match his image, so we sunk millions into a brand new building. In the process the shop foreman got so fed up, he cussed the owner out in front of God and everyone, and left. Owner decided he didn't really need a foreman anyway. We had a sycophant, sales guy, that spent more time spying on the coworkers for the owner than actually trying to sell stuff. Toward the end we hired a machinist/traveling sales guy, because sycophant had too many DUIs to have a license, yeah hard to machine stuff when you're travailing, right? The place became toxic, the recession hurt, and brought out the worst in everyone.
The writing was on the wall, SWMBO got accepted to a PhD program 700 miles away, so I bailed and moved away with her. I actually did some remote work for them after I moved, maybe 2 jobs, but we slowly lost touch, and the bank foreclosed and auctioned everything in the shop off within the following year.
I learned so much in that job, about fabrication and business sure, but more about people and myself. I don't often look back on much of it fondly, but it was an education for sure.