The day your brain goes 'Foom'.

[NorthernDevo]

Hallo!

I really, really hope other people have stories to tell here because I don't want to be the only person on the KSP forum that comes off looking like I have the intelligence of fungus, but here goes...

The place I work has rotating shifts, so two out of every six weeks I wind up on midnight shift, which ranks pretty close to influenza on the average scale of fun. It's impossible to really sleep during the day, not just because of the whole circadian rhythm thing but because the young family in the apartment above mine includes a kid I've taken to calling Thor: Child Of Thunder. He's a toddler who's just learning to walk, run and, if the revberations are to be believed, perform floor-exercise gymnastics. So in general terms, when I go into work for midnight shift, I do so bearing a remarkable resemblance to an extra in 'The Walking Dead'.

Fortunately, on this shift I work in a supervisory capacity and given the fact that the Pressman operating the machine has a heck of a lot more experience in type than me, my job mainly consists of providing another set of eyes, a second opinion and (most importantly) a decision when things aren't going right, it's fairly easy.

Not that I'm one of those supervisors we all despise: the 25-year-old in the spotless lime-green Dockers shirt saying things like "How can we correspond in a meaningful and forward-thinking way?" No - I've been working in this trade a long time and I know my business very well - but in a trade where twenty years is considered entry level, the senior crews work at a level that makes mere experience meaningless - they understand print and print publication on an unconscious level and during the shifts when I'm operating a press beside them, I'm honoured to learn from them any chance I get. In return, though I'm the least-experienced Pressman with only 25 years in the trade they treat me as an equal, and respect the different knowledge I bring from other forms of print publication. Therefore, when I've got the top slot on this shift, we work well together; discussing problems with colour-curve and ink density. Sometimes I'll go into the pre-press computer and try to fix an obvious file problem, but usually I just need to decide where a particular job's quality threshold should be, help the pressman work out solutions (Print is not easy) and make a final decision...and then have to defend the decision to the suit-and-tie brigade the next day. I get to deal with problems the pressman can't - such as a page with an ad for baby formula on one side and an ad for crushed tomatoes on the other, producing an amazingly life-like picture of a baby that's just been through a blender - and the like.

Basically, I'm just trying to say I'm not a complete idiot here.

The problem with being the one that has to do the thinking on the shift though is that I have to remember to not leave my brain on the nightstand when heading for work.

So there I was, in the locker room at 11 o'clock at night, making 'Uuurrrr' sounds. One thing about working on the presses: Those machines are big - built along lines usually reserved for battleships and Mecha-Godzilla and they pump out heat like crazy. In other words, it's hot on the press-floor; easily approaching 40 degrees in summertime and far higher between the units and I don't sweat - I rain. I really didn't feel like carrying a lot of things I probably wouldn't need, so I left the things I usually carry (wallet, keys, knife, trimmer, Ph. tester, thermometer, caliper, loupe and a whole lot of other little doo-dads) in my locker, just taking my Ballpoint Of Doom and my glasses.

I got as far as the door to the pressroom before I realized my mistake - it's a security door with an E-card reader and my passcard is in my wallet. Oops.

So I had to turn around and return to my locker.

I will now give you all the chance to re-read the above paragraph, to identify the true depths of my bone-headedness at this particular moment...(smooth jazz is deployed)

Yup...keys. In the locker. Locked by a padlock.

Insert facepalm here.

Which means I found myself locked in the entry corridor with no way in or out...other than the (alarmed) fire door. Yeah...no thanks. Other people? Not at 11pm - the only people in the plant is the one crew, and me...you know, the responsible one.

What makes it even better is that the door is nowhere near the press, so I had to hope that someone on the blasted machine would happen to look over and see me waving through a 1 foot square piece of glass from 100 feet away.

At some point, one of 'em wondered whether or not I was going to arrive at work, and called me. I cannot possibly convey in mere words the frustration of listening to my locker play 45 seconds worth of 'Girl Anachronism' by the Dresden Dolls while I stood and steamed.

Half an hour later (or thereabouts) someone finally noticed me doing excessively energetic hand motions and then the fun really started. Really - with an average age of about 40, you'd think these bozos individuals would be a little more mature than standing, laughing and waving cheerfully as if they didn't have anything better to do.

I shouted at them: "                                                                                                                                  !!!!!!"

(Soundproofed door...fortunately)

The individuals bozos (well...five bozos and one bozette) finally wandered over and opened the door, allowing me to enter with all the stiff dignity of a cat who's just done the through-the-kitchen-powerslide-into-the-chairs maneuver.

Of course, after the obligatory laugh, I couldn't start work just yet, I had to do something about my locker. Would you credit it: a plant this big and not a single bloody pair of bolt-cutters in the entire place?!? Ahem. I had to make do with a crowbar. End result: one padlock still unopened without even a scratch and one seriously eviscerated locker, which I have just gotten home from having to explain to the building manager. He was not pleased. Fortunately, I'm rather bigger than he is.

Yep...fun night.

Well...bedtime; I hope I can get there without doing anything else ridiculously stupid, like hitting 'send' on this post before I'm finis

 

 

Edited April 21, 2016 by NorthernDevo

[WinkAllKerb'']

this day could be gone i guess time to time

[RainDreamer]

Need a hug?

[StrandedonEarth]

Ah, the night shift with a toddler for a neighbor, I remember that well. Like clockwork, a couple hours after falling asleep in the morning I 'd wake up to "SamANTHa! What are you DOing??"

Funny write-up, though.

[razark]

1 hour ago, StrandedonEarth said:

Ah, the night shift with a toddler for a neighbor...

Sheesh.  I didn't have to deal with a neighbor, but I'd get home at 7:30, go to bed at 8:00, and at noon the (now ex-) wife would be waking me up saying "I'm bored!"

[NorthernDevo]

(Chuckle) I just hope people got a giggle out of it...comedy = tragedy + time.

[rodri78]

Yeah, happens some time.

[Camacha]

Time to implement some way of preventing this in the future. A hidden key in the hallway - probably not the safest option, lockers that lock in a different fashion or some way of signalling other people in different ways than fervorous hand waving.

[StrandedonEarth]

25 minutes ago, Camacha said:

Time to implement some way of preventing this in the future. A hidden key in the hallway - probably not the safest option, lockers that lock in a different fashion or some way of signalling other people in different ways than fervorous hand waving.

A - combination lock, just don't forget the combo 

B - A doorbell, maybe?

[Camacha]

1 minute ago, StrandedonEarth said:

B - A doorbell, maybe?

A doorbell, a light, a phone - there are plenty of options. One could always resort to using the fire extinguisher, though that might be slightly detrimental to your career.

[StrandedonEarth]

I considered a phone, but they may not be allowed cellphones on the shop floor. But yeah, flicking the light on and off may have attracted attention sooner, although if they're fluorescent the response time is lousy. 

[NorthernDevo]

Thanks for the ideas...but the best idea is probably the most obvious one...don't lock the freakin' keys in the locker. This plant generally expects its supervisors to have at least two working synapses.

Just for interest, when I talk about big presses, this is what I'm talking about:

(Video offered for no reason other than I like talking about my job)

 

 

[Camacha]

7 minutes ago, NorthernDevo said:

Thanks for the ideas...but the best idea is probably the most obvious one...don't lock the freakin' keys in the locker. This plant generally expects its supervisors to have at least two working synapses.

Rule number one: smart people do dumb things. Account for them or suffer the consequences. If it can happen, it will happen sooner or later.

I like that I see yellow lines in the video that usually signify areas that are to be kept clear, which obviously are not kept clear. It gives that Kerbal like feeling to it all

Edited April 22, 2016 by Camacha

[NorthernDevo]

30 minutes ago, Camacha said:

Rule number one: smart people do dumb things. Account for them or suffer the consequences. If it can happen, it will happen sooner or later.

I like that I see yellow lines in the video that usually signify areas that are to be kept clear, which obviously are not kept clear. It gives that Kerbal like feeling to it all

Well, I could make a Kerbal joke right back and would enjoy doing so, but in this single instance I should point out that the painted yellow lines do not indicate clear passways - those lines are more than a hundred feet forward. No-one without proper authority - which involves either the Red Seals of the various Trades that serve these behemoths or written permission from the office - passes the throat of a press without authorization. The yellow lines you see indicate control division for the electrical panels lining the wall between the 966 and the neighboring press; the M-1000BE. I know you were funning, but I take great pride in the fact that in 25 years, I have never once had a safety issue for myself or for my crew and Brad - a close friend with more than 40 years in the industry - has never had one as well. He and I are often considered to be overly strict on the floor; that is why. We can have fun, but we NEVER relax discipline for even a second - if so much as a rag is out of place, we raise the roof.

Sorry - I know you were just having fun, but I've grown up knowing just what kind of damage presses can do if they're not respected - I've seen the results of carelessness far too often. I am proud of the fact that in my quarter century, I've never had to deal with a crew-related safety issue.

 

Edited April 22, 2016 by NorthernDevo

[Camacha]

7 minutes ago, NorthernDevo said:

Well, I could make a Kerbal joke right back and would enjoy doing so, but in this single instance I should point out that the painted yellow lines do not indicate clear passways

I expected as much - there is nothing wrong with taking pride in what you do. It is what you do, after all.

[NorthernDevo]

6 minutes ago, Camacha said:

I expected as much - there is nothing wrong with taking pride in what you do. It is what you do, after all.

...and for the record, I didn't for a second suspect otherwise. I'm just the type of person that will, upon meeting a NASA astronaut, say: "Oh...a flying pickup truck. Nice. Do YOU know how to set up a double-slit, glued and stitched back-run gate-fold? Hmm...didn't think so."

Edited April 22, 2016 by NorthernDevo

[Camacha]

4 minutes ago, NorthernDevo said:

...and for the record, I didn't for a second suspect otherwise. I'm just the type of person that will, upon meeting a NASA astronaut, say: "Oh...a flying pickup truck. Nice. Do YOU know how to set up a double-slit, glued and stitched gate-fold? Hmm...didn't think so."

The thing is, there is so little room for a printing press aboard the ISS.

[NorthernDevo]

Just now, Camacha said:

The thing is, there is so little room for a printing press aboard the ISS.

None at all - which means those poor, uneducated fools have to merely put up with faulty electronics, logistics issues, failed science experiments and problem equipment. They never have to deal with runaway damps or an exploding IDS...of which true heroes are made. (giggle) 

[Camacha]

1 minute ago, NorthernDevo said:

None at all - which means those poor, uneducated fools have to merely put up with faulty electronics, logistics issues, failed science experiments and problem equipment. They never have to deal with runaway damps or an exploding IDS...of which true heroes are made. (giggle) 

You walking past the strip of zooming paper (forgive me my lack of jargon) made me wonder - does the paper ever break mid-roll? How much of a problem is it if that happens?

It just seemed so vulnerable.

[Tex Mechs Robot]

34 minutes ago, Camacha said:

You walking past the strip of zooming paper (forgive me my lack of jargon) made me wonder - does the paper ever break mid-roll? How much of a problem is it if that happens?

It just seemed so vulnerable.

You'd be surprised at the tensile strength of quality paper.

[NorthernDevo]

1 hour ago, Camacha said:

You walking past the strip of zooming paper (forgive me my lack of jargon) made me wonder - does the paper ever break mid-roll? How much of a problem is it if that happens?

It just seemed so vulnerable.

VERY good question - you're looking at the vid with a practical eye.

You are exactly right: the roll of paper (which is properly called the web) is extremely fragile. It is nothing more than a piece of the same kind of paper you will find in a magazine or a supermarket flyer; the size of the press (That 966 was the biggest non-newspaper press in Western Canada. She has been decommissioned, and there is now nothing in North America that even comes close to her glorious size and power) determines the width of that paper. But the length is another matter; paper rolls come in standard sizes. Depending on the grade and quality of the paper, rolls are between 45 and 70 kilometers in length (and around $50,000 in cost, Print is expensive); running at speeds of over 80mph they can take between 30 and 50 minutes to run out. From the moment when the top layer of paper (called the 'spire') leaves the roll, there is 552 feet of paper inside the Press between the roll and the Carousel (the part that delivers the completed book to the conveyor). Running at full speed, it takes four seconds for the paper to go from the roll to the carousel.

The web is under enormous tension during its travel - over 160lbs./sq.In. But don't be fooled: paper is incredibly fragile, right up until you consider it's grain. Paper is an astonishingly strong material along its grain. Paper is easy to tear, fold, spindle and mutilate...but a single piece of typing paper has thousands of pounds of tear strength. A single piece of typing paper can be used to tow the tractor cab of an 18-wheeler tractor-trailer. As long as it is pulled directly along its grain, basic, ordinary, everyday, plain paper is almost indestructible.

You really do have to run a web press to truly appreciate just how amazing a material paper is. (Or be an engineering student. I LOVE watching the first-year competitions that build bridges out of newspaper.)

I said above that I've never had a safety issue in 25 years and that is true - but I never mentioned that I don't include papercuts. I invite the group to imagine what an 80 mph. papercut feels like. That's a daily occurrence; I strongly doubt I've ever had a single day when I haven't felt the sharp heat of a paper blade moving so fast it cauterizes the cut. I've only ever lost skin and blood; I have friends who've lost fingers...and in more extreme cases, all the skin off their hand.

But you asked what happens if the web breaks; the answer is BOOM!!!! (if you're close by. If you're in the control room chatting about the opposite sex, you might not even notice until the damn thing suddenly stops.) A web break is truly spectacular - the pulled end no longer has tension so wraps itself around the nearest ink-bearing (and therefore sticky) roller; the free end gallops gaily into the next printing unit and allows itself to be shredded into confetti. There's a lot of energy released in a web break and all that wood pulp has to go somewhere. Usually - in the close confines of a press - it goes into something moving; which means the press crew has to crawl into the machine and pick bits of paper out of the press. A web break - which usually happens on average once a night (several times if your Rolltender (the Crewman responsible for the web) is an idiot) generally takes between one and three hours to correct; not including the time it takes to web up again...that is, feed the fresh paper through the machine, which can easily take an hour.

So the answer to your question is this: yes, the web is vulnerable, but very strong. But if it breaks, the crew is in for a very long night of peeling, cleaning, scraping, whining, moaning and blaming the Rolltender.

Edited April 22, 2016 by NorthernDevo

[NorthernDevo]

Of course, while I delight in the attention, I did hope that others would post their facepalm moments here. I did something stupid...others have too, and it would be fun to compare notes.

[Spaceception]

I once told my grandmother to "Hurry Up" in the bathroom, because she sounded like my little brother from behind the door. facepalm

.

[RainDreamer]

On 4/23/2016 at 8:09 AM, Spaceception said:

I once told my grandmother to "Hurry Up" in the bathroom, because she sounded like my little brother from behind the door. facepalm

.

That moment when your poker face resembles Saturn....

Edited April 24, 2016 by RainDreamer

[TheKosanianMethod]

On 4/22/2016 at 6:13 PM, Camacha said:

The thing is, there is so little room for a printing press aboard the ISS.

This would be the ISS news:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FmYGM07Yys

 

Edited May 14, 2016 by TheKosanianMethod
I forgot the link