The Power Of Clean

As Sarah McLachlan greets the incoming night air with "The Rainbow Connection", I sit here wondering why in the world I haven't written for so long. But rather than lament over my absence, I'm just going to write.

At work lately, I've had the privilege of cleaning. Yes, privilege.

I'm not sure if this is true of all machine shops across the country (and world) but our shop is filthy. There's a good half inch of dust atop anything that hasn't been picked up and used in the last week. The floors are consistently coated with their own layer (of dust), plus chips that have fallen their way into the crevices separating the massive sectioned slabs of concrete. Then there are oil and grease stains on every tool, machine, chair, wall and anything else you can put your hands on without the threat of electrocution or amputation. Rust. Corroded cinder block dust (there are at least seventeen different varieties of dust). Grime. Smoke (both tobacco and burning oils on heated steel). Slime. Goo. Rot. Shavings. Pestilence. Chemicals.

Alright, there's no pestilence. But you get the picture. There are plenty of things lying around the shop that you just wouldn't want your bare hands coming in contact with.

For months now, whenever I've had a decently long run time, I've sat to read the paper or some other material that interests me (book, magazine, menu) or to write. However, that has gotten me into trouble. I've had scrapped parts, incorrectly machined parts, broken tools, stuff like that. Most incidents have been blamed on my distracted eyes, which should be paying attention to my work rather than the article on new large leaf-tea bags being produced by Lipton. Personally, I don't feel the tea is responsible. I don't know what I'd blame it on, per se, but I'd like to think the New York Times doesn't have it in for me.

So, I decided to be productive with my time. Productive not for me, but for the shop. That way, if I screw up, no one can say I was distracted by things unrelating to work. Hence the cleaning.

First, while Rich was away in Arizona, I cleaned off the bench where we sit, work, measure, calculate and perform other such indirect machining tasks. And I cleaned it. I reorganized, disposed of, put away, replaced, sprayed, wiped. Everything. That got me on such a productive and cleanly high that I decided to move my energy to the saw table.

It had gotten piled up with all sorts of things people didn't put away. Maybe due to laziness, maybe due to work demands. Whatever the case, it was all disorganized and dirty. So I cleaned it, made new organizational items to aid with keeping it clean, sprayed, wiped, all that stuff. And that got me going even more.

So I cleaned the humble but useful table beside my machine. I even screwed holes in the side and hand-made aluminum tool holders so the top wouldn't be perpetually cluttered with unused, and therefore unwanted, items. That was quite fun. Now the adjustable wrenches and red-handled pliers sit proudly in their very own, personal holders. Hooks for the wrenches and a loop for the pliers to sit in. It works quite well. I actually came close to getting carried away and making holders for everything on the table but realized that would have destroyed the table's very purpose. Reason set in.

And that got me going even MORE. So now I'm in the process of cleaning the table behind the machines where all of the vice jaws and miscellanious part-holding items reside. I hope to throw away many obsolete shop possessions. They just take up room where useful things can go. It's a shame, really.

I think I understand how the Empire felt now. They just got a cleaning high and wanted to extend it to the whole galaxy. Why stop at the Emperor's desk drawers when he can remove the scum and bring order to entire planets and star systems. That's really all they wanted to do, you know. Bring order. I imagine Vader as a very proud man when he was announcing the unveiling of the ultimate cleaning tool.

"Soon the Death Star will be complete!"

Sure he said they'll proceed to rule the galaxy but if you think about it, he was probably just referring to the complete dessimation of filth. What's wrong with that?