bob's blog

Another case of x - treme Irony!

The week started early, 6:15 with a call from Bill Clark. “Watchaw gonna do about that tank? You know my boy Dennis likes to keep that excavator moving on its track. Jus to keep the grass out, you know. Anyway, it’s all rested up from the weekend.”

“Bill, I’m doing your tank and a pump from Buzzie. That E-ONE system doesn’t work on two inch.” I responded.

“O.K. then, I’ll call one in. Anycase, we might not do it today, looks like rain. You know how them tanks like to float. Better not chance it in the rain.” Bill said.

I threw the phone back in the cradle and groaned as I put my head back on the pillow.

Telephone numbers started piercing my thoughts. 1-800-EATSHIT. The “Gold Standard” system provider selected by public officials working in closed meetings, with one slight problem. Not enough exit velocity. The fact that it was a monopoly supplier for the entire New England region notwithstanding, the damn thing just didn’t flat out work. The pump curve was all wrong. No sense burying something that’s unserviceable is there? My reasoning led me to a concrete tank, something with a good capacity, say 1,000 Gallons so we could continue to flush the toilets when the power went out.

I called the DPW and listened as the option menu went the distance........... dial 1 for the water department, dial 2 for the town engineer, dial 3 for recycling coordinator, dial 4 for the landfill hours and permits............. all the way down to dial 0 for operator.

“What, no sewer department?” I exclaimed!

I pressed 0 for operator and left the message. “Yeah, Bob Rivard here, I’ll be dropping a tank in the ground at 47 Summerfield on Tues. I’m at 323 - 5460 I know you like 48 hours notice, but then Tues is the inspection day, so I figured........” I trailed off.

I put my head back on the pillow. What’s the big deal, a concrete tank, they all look the same to me. Big, square, grey. I could hear Henry in the distance of my mind murmuring innanities about scouring mechanism, exit velocity and pipe diameter. The words flowed off his lips like soft sweet specifications of ..................pumps. I dozed off for another swim with the dolphins of my dreams.

Tues started just as early, 6:48, Paul Dethier from the DPW. “Yeah Bob, when is that E-ONE coming?”

“I’m sorry who is this?” I struggled to hear a voice as a train approached. Or was that my ejector pump going off? I was holding my head in the closet inches away from the control box of the pump I had now, to let Judy sleep a few more minutes “Paul Dethier, from the DPW”, he waited for a response.

“Oh Paul, listen, I’m not doing the E-ONE. According to Henry, it doesn’t work in my application.” I informed him. “I’ll be dropping a concrete tank.” "Let us know what time", was his response.

I left he house early to make sure the plasterers showed up at the job site. As I drove up I could see trucks parked all over my lot. There were six guys on the plaster crew in three vehicles, Dennis, the equipment operator warming up the excavator, Billy Jr. driving the 15 yard dump truck, Tom the laborer leaning on his shovel already. Bill Clark, in his pickup, was on the phone to the tank guy. “Be here around t 10:30 he hollered" as I drove by his open window.

I flashed a thumbs up. “Better go tell the Town Guy,” he shot out before resuming his conversation with the phone that almost disappeared in his large hand. I kept driving around the cul-de-sac and headed uptown.

By then of course, Jason, the Town Engineer had left his first message at my office. “Don’t drop that tank without talking to me first!”

I didn’t know Jason left a message when I drove into the DPW parking lot. Everything looked as it usually did, the pile of salted sand had been removed and the entrance to the yard was choked with the usual Chevy Caprice, Toyota Camry, beige with blackwall tire, Town Logo people movers. Not a decent car in the whole yard.

I parked my truck and took a quick glance in the bed to make sure all the paraphanalia had blown out or washed away over the weekend. It was acceptably presentable. I locked the door just on a hunch, and walked into the office.

Jason was there with Paul Dethier. A secretary was seated at the desk. They were happy to see me arrive and brought out the folder with their information. There was no reference to an earlier call or a message left on a machine or any indication that they were expecting me. I indicated that the tank would be arriving around 10:30 or 11:00. They seemed surprised.

Jason began first, indicating to me that they recommended the E-ONE pump system and pointed to the brochure he had in the folder. “I know the one,” I told him, “I paid Bob Stover to design a system with that pump. He came up with his design after talking to you guys last September. You told him then to design a system with that pump. I wanted to buy that system", I told him, "except that their engineer told me it wouldn’t work in my application." I was more than a little suspicious. "When did the Town establish that pump standard?" I asked.

“That’s what we recommend”, he artfully dodged the question. I could tell he held it in high regard. “Jason,” I began, “ I have to tell you that you are recommending a monopoly solution to the ejection pumps installed in Town. That puts me in a very difficult position when it comes to marketing. In addition, Henry told me his dog won’t hunt on this outing. That I should be looking past his solution to something better.” I went through the soft, sweet, specifications litany and told him in no uncertain terms. “Listen, this thing has a tank and it has a pump. You want pump specs. Fine. I’ll give you pump specs. What I’m doing today, is I’m doing a tank. At 10:45. Go there and triangulate it.”

Andy George walked in the DPW and right away, tank alarms started going off in my head. Was this the witness? I glance over the ceiling to look for the recording devices. Is this on video?

Will someone open a tin of cocaine? I turned to Andy. “You here about pumps?” I querried.

“Yeah”, he said, “what can you tell me?”

“We’re in discovery here,” I blurted out. Andy stuttered a quick question about Potwine Lane, and how far down the sewer was buried in the road. “Are you doing ejection pumps?” I asked.

“No, no, no,” he answered. “I’m trying to get rid of tanks”.

Was this a case of extreme irony or were these guys trying to entrap me in triple damages? I turned to Jason. “Do the inspection, we’ll sort the pump out later,” and left.

As I drove out of the lot I looked for the green SUV with the tinted windows and the DEP logo. It was parked at the end of the line. Silent and still.

Bob