I spent a good part of my Thanksgiving week with my head tucked under the hood of a car or the bed of a truck. As is often the case, I’m actually working on two repairs at the same time. I was working on reconstructing the front end of my daughter’s 2001 Honda Civic when the differential on my truck started making scary noises.
The Honda was the more extensive repair, a new AC condenser, remove and replace the radiator, new top radiator support (new as in salvaged from a junk yard), new hood and two new headlights.
The truck just needed a new differential. Still, not an easy repair and one I haven’t done before.
I was half way through the Honda repair when the truck started. I switched gears, but it became obvious the truck was going to take a while. I had to learn to do some of the stuff that was needed, like using a cutting blade on a grinder to cut off the bearings. Or, using a bearing puller. Or, needing to weld a 9/16″ socket into a 36mm hex nut to adjust the caps.
The Honda on the other hand was easy by comparison. I only needed to reinstall the AC compressor and condenser, repressurize the AC system, reinstall the radiator, refill it with coolant, reattach the fenders, and then the bumper. Then remove the bumper and reattach the headlights, because I forgot the order. Reattach the bumper and the cowling. Then, remount both wheels, top off the brake fluid and then literally tie up some loose ends of wires.
Okay, that probably sounds involved. Sure, it’s an involved list, but really, it’s not what I would call actual “repair” tasks. In fact, they are step three in the repair process.
Every repair job has three steps. In chronological order they are:
- Disassembly
- Repair
- Reassembly
However, in the length of time each task takes the steps are:
- Disassembly
- Reassembly
- Repair
In fact, the repair is typically a short process. In terms of my daughter’s Honda, the only real “repair” tasks was to weld the new top radiator support in place. The rest was taking it apart and putting it back together.
I removed the old hood and put on a new one.
I removed the old broken headlights and installed new ones.
I removed the old compressor and installed a new one.
I removed the radiator and reinstalled it.
I removed the wheels and remounted them.
I removed the fenders and reinstalled them.
I removed the bumper and cowling and reinstalled them.
The only real repair work I did was welding the radiator support in place. It wasn’t even me. My neighbor is the welder. I did use a grinder to cut one out of a car at a junk yard, and then grind all the welds down on the one in my daughter’s car. And we spent a fair amount of time making sure we got the spacing just right. If the top radiator support is too high, the hood won’t close.
But, the actual repair? That was easy. It was the steps leading up to it and the steps after it that took the time.
I’m now working on the differential for my truck. The repair? The fact is, the entire process is all disassembly and reassembly. Should be a super easy repair.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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This isn’t some creepy post about underage kids having kids. In fact, the grandfather in this story is a respectable 53 years old. He’ll be 54 next month. He has six grandkids; five living and one buried in Santaquin, Utah.
The fact is that I love being a grandfather. When my first grandchild was born I informed my daughter that I wanted to be known to my grandkids as Papa. It’s what I called my favorite grandfather.
The problem I have is trying to hold a duality in my head. Yes, I’m a grandfather, but I also feel like a kid. I find myself sometimes thinking, “I might like to be a pilot someday.”
That’s never going to happen.
“Maybe I’ll write another book sometime.”
Yeah, I’m not getting any younger.
“I havne’t been to a club in a long time. I wonder what it’s like?”
It’s a bunch of young people. . .you know, like you used to be.
I didn’t get old in my head. In my head, I’m still about 23. It was a good year. I got married that year. I was young, strong and the world and all it’s possibilities lay open to me.
But, I’m not 23. I’m six-grandkids-old. And it’s a good age. It suits me, even if it doesn’t match my internal age.
I wonder if I would go back in age if I somehow had fewer grandkids? Would I be different as a four-grandkid-old?
Being proud of grandkids is a little weird. Because, I really had nothing to do with becoming a grandfather. All I did was raise children. It was their lives, their choices that caused me to become a granddad.
But, I’m proud anyway. I love my children, and I love my grandkids even more. And yet, I have no control. My time of raising kids is mostly done. (Still a few at home. None have kids.) I have to rely on my children to make wise and good choices for them and my grandchildren.
All I can do is stand by and love them, or cry for them.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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Thanksgiving at my house was fairly typical. We had a turkey. I managed to get most of it off the bones and onto the tray. We opened a can of cranberry sauce and age two tablespoons worth. We had three types of potatoes: potato salad, mashed potatoes and then potatoes that were cooked in the roaster with the turkey for three hours. Those are the best.
And there was pie: homemade Granny Smith apple, pumpkin made from pumpkins grown in our own garden, cherry, blackberry, key lime, banana cream, coconut cream, gluten-free cherry and apple. There may have even been some that I missed. In total there were 12 pies. And there were 10 people. There are always more pies than people. It’s a family tradition.
Tomorrow morning we shall have pie for breakfast, another family tradition.
What is not a tradition, or at least if it is, this is the first year of it, is bench pressing a truck. That maybe needs a little explanation. My truck is broken. . . yes, again. The diferential was making strange noises. I decided to rebuild it. It’s not a repair I’ve done before. But, earlier this week I had it towed home and we started tearing it apart.
The problem was that I already had a car in my driveway. My daughter’s car was still being repaired from an accident she had a couple weeks ago. I parked the truck behind the car and worked on both.
To rebuild the differential, you have to remove the rear wheels and the axles. Eventually, it became clear that I could fix the car quicker than I could fix the truck. I put a halt to the truck rebuild and focused on the car. I finished it up this morning as the rain started.
But, how to get the (now working) car past the truck and out of the way? I could drive on the lawn, but the truck bed and canopy were in the way.
So, this afternoon after the rain had stopped, and we had eaten the turkey and sampled the pies, I announced we were having a work party.
Everybody outside. We have a short work project. Welcome to Thanksgiving at the Bliss House!
My sons, daughters and fiance put on shoes, boots and gloves. We surrounded the overturned truck bed and moved it out of the way. The canopy soon followed. Now, some back and forth jockeying with the Honda and I managed to get the Honda on the lawn and out to the street.
The truck was another issue. The front wheels were fine, but there literally were no rear wheels. Nor a bed. I assumed we’d be able to balance it on the front wheels and then push/pull it up close to the garage.
Even with our family and a neighbor from across the street all lifting together, the truck refused to come off the jackstands. Fortunately, I have a wheeled floor jack. placing the jack under the trailer hitch, we push/pulled and very carefully guided the truck up next to the garage.
Okay, that’s what we needed. Thanks for your help.
Yes, welcome to Thanksgiving at the Bliss house.
Hope yours was great.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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…It’s a very mean and nasty place. And I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it.
– Rocky Balboa
I’m a huge fan of adoption. I’m adopted. My older brother was adopted. My younger brother has adopted four children. My sister adopted three children. I adopted ten children.
I’m a fan of adoption.
But, that’s like saying “I’m a fan of hamburgers.” Not to trivialize adoption. Hamburgers are wonderful. Nothing quite compares to the sizzle of a lean burger cooking on the grill.
But, you know what’s not wonderful? Slaughtered cows. I’m not complaining about the cost that must be paid to allow us to have hamburgers. But, it’s not without a sacrifice.
Adoption is a wonderful way to bring children together with families. But, there’s a price to pay. There’s a sacrifice to be made.
An adoption represents a new beginning and an ending. An ending of the former life, the former family.
The world demands a balance. The joy of the new is often matched by the pain of the old. Although, in fairness, I think the scales are too often tipped toward the pain.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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If you want a friend in Washington, get a dog.
– President Truman
Dog days
Gone to the dogs
The problem with dogs is not that they love us so much. It’s that they leave us so early. I don’t know if the 7:1 ratio for dog years to human years is accurate. But, we tend to outlive our dogs. Sometimes, it’s almost too much to bear.
I had a dog when I was a kid. I had several dogs over the years. I remember when I was about five years old, we lived in Spokane, Washington at the base of a very steep hill. The road was pretty busy. It was Green Street.
In the winter we would sit in our living room and watch the cars (mostly) unsuccessfully attempt to power up the hill. They often came back down sideways. I have no idea how many wrecked.
In the summer, my parents were naturally worried about their young kids playing in the street. We had strict instructions to not go in the street under any circumstances.
Our dog didn’t understand that rule. fifty years later, I remember the terror at him dashing out into the street. We remained glued to the sidewalk, but shouted encouragement to the poor dog. He continued dashing across the two lanes of traffice headed up the hill. He paused briefly in the middle and we pleaded with him to come back. Instead he sprinted for the opposite side, dodging the cars coming down the hill.
He finally made it safe to the opposite side. We shouted at him to stay there. He was a confused dog, and, I was only five. He decided that he didn’t much care for life on the other side of the street. He started to retrace his steps. He never saw the car that hit him. I’m not sure the driver saw him either.
When I was a teenager, we lived in Olympia, Washington. I had a dog named Tuffy. Okay, it wasn’t a very good name, as far as outstanding dog names. He was a Golden Retriever mix. And he was my dog.
My dog got sick. He had a skin disease. We treated it for over a year. We tried baths. We tried brewers yeast on his food. But, finally, it got to the point that we needed to end it. He couldn’t walk down the hallway without stopping to scratch at what had become open wounds.
As I said, he was my dog.
I took him to the Humane Society. Even at his worst he was still a good dog. He loved me. He trusted me. He dutifully followed me into the shelter. I had created a leash of woven baling twine. Some of the strands were orange. Some were yellow, similar to the color of his coat. I handed him over to the attendant, who took a firm grip on his collar. I removed the handwoven leash and turned to go. I can still hear his confused bark.
It haunts me.
Despite growing up on a farm, my lovely wife is allergic to dogs. That’s why it was such an amazing gift when she offered to bring a dog into our little family of her, me and our two young daughters.
We attempted to be responsible dog buyers. We “met the parents.” The mother was a black lab. The father was about 80 lbs and jet black, but had the coat similar to a Golden Retriever. There is a breed known as a Flat-coat Retriever that matched the father’s description.
The father’s description also matched, although we didn’t realize it until later, that of an immature Newfoundland. We realized that about the time he topped 100 lbs at 8 months old. He ended up about 110 lbs and he was my dog. His name was Sam.
Sam, was a gentle dog, as Newfies typically are. He was good with the kids. He was a happy dog. And then Sam got sick. He started losing his hair. The vet diagnosed it as a thyroid problem. It’s not uncommon in large dogs. We got a perscription and he started to get better.
And then one day he snapped at my young daughter, one of the side effects of the medicine. The two daughters together weighed less than the dog. It was a hard decision, but the decision was never in doubt. We took him to the vet and asked her to find a home for him. He really was a good dog. And I have hopes that someone adopted him and he lived out his life in a happy home.
He’s no doubt dead by now. It was over 20 years ago.
I don’t have dogs anymore. I have a few fish, but you don’t get attached to fish. You expect fish to die.
It’s devastating to lose those you get attached to. I envy those who have dogs. Who can willingly take on the love of a dog knowing they will outlive their faithful companions.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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Two storytellers died last week. No, I’m not going to talk about Stan Lee. There’s been plenty written, and while I, like many people, will miss him, his death isn’t the one that touched me.
The second storyteller, you might not have heard of. Or, perhaps you have. He was famous in his own right, although not Stan Lee famous. He was 87 years old. He won an Oscar. . .twice. And no doubt, you’ve heard of the works for which he was rewarded.
He was my favorite novelist and I only read one of his books.
I’d buy tickets for the following movie without knowing what it was even about.
Producer: George Lucas
Director: Steve Spielberg
Writer: William GoldmanWhatever it was, it would be awesome.
Lucas and Spielberg are, as far as I know, both healthy and very much alive.
William Goldman passed away this week. I was introduced to him before I knew who he was. Years later, I can remember specific lines from his amazing novel “A Princess Bride.” As brilliant as the movie is, (also written by Goldman) the book was even better.
Did you know that in the book, during the famous fight with Inigo, the Man in Black’s mask covered the lower half of his face? I know that because the line from the book is,
Although you cannot see it behind this mask, I’m smiling also.
When Fezzik and Indigo enter the Pit of Dispare, they do it by fighting through levels of deadly dangers and traps. The final trap. . .well, I won’t spoil it, in case I’ve inspired you to read the book.
And most remarkable of all is the how S Morgenstern figures into the story. See, he is credited with writing the original story of the Princess Bride. Goldman only claims to have edited Morgenstern’s longer work that contained such gems as “After the invention of matches, but before the invention of fire.” It’s a wonderful book, but takes a much darker turn at the end than the movie.
Goldman, won an Oscar for writing Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid. It remains my all time favorite movie. I bought a VHS copy of it before I owned a VCR. Goldman said that he wrote Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid as a screenplay rather than a book, “Because I didn’t want to learn the proper technique for saddling a horse.”
Goldman also won an Oscar for the screenplay “All The President’s Men,” staring Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford as Washington Post reporters Woodward and Bernstein. They broke the Watergate story and brought down a president.
Goldman said of his work,
I [don’t] like my writing. I wrote a movie called “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” and I wrote a novel called “The Princess Bride” and those are teh only two things I’ve ever written, not that I’m proud of, but that I can look at without humiliation.
Fortunately for us Goldman wrote that book and those screenplays. And while he may have been less than happy with the results, millions of fans around the world have enjoyed his work. We will miss him. But, so long as we have his words and stories, he will never be truly gone.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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Here live the pod people.
We were touring our call center in Utah. It was a cold, clear late fall day. Our call center is four stories high. The fourth floor is devoted to offices and conference rooms. The other three floors were a collection of production areas and support staff.
Our call center is a secure room. We guard the data entrusted to us carefully. The building has layers within layers of security. We believe in a combination of physical and data security. One of the least obvious and yet most obvious is windows.
Our center has 12 foot ceilings. The windows that line the walls are nearly as tall. In many places there are more windows than walls. On the 2nd, 3rd and 4th floor, the windows offer amazing views of the surrounding Wasatch Mountains to the east. To the south is a view all the way down the valley to the Point of the Mountain. To the east are the beautiful but hard to pronounce, Oquirrh Mountains. (Pronounced “OAK-er”) To the north is the Salt Lake City International airport.
On a clear day the views are stunning. On this day the winter haze had started to obscure the views. On all floors except the 1st. The view on the first floor only changes when the sun goes down. The view on the first floor never changes. It’s the same pale shaded opaque view. The beautiful 10 foot windows that offer the wonderful views from the upper floors are covered completely with privacy covers. It reminds me of what the inside of an egg would look like. . .If I’d ever been inside an egg.
My office is on the fourth floor. It’s an inside office. It’s everything I need; a phone, a desk, a chair, a place to hand some family pictures.
A coworker had an office directly across the hall. He recently moved out of state, while continuing to work with our client. His office is bigger than mine. (But, mine is big enough.) His office is on the same floor as mine. (Not that it makes a difference.) His office is not all that much different than mine.
Except it has a window.
And it’s not a pod-people window, but one with a beautiful southern exposure.
Hopefully they’ll let me upgrade to windows.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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It’s the time of year when we put away the toys of summer and pull out the coats and boots, hats and gloves for the coming winter. Life in a desert is hard. We have modern conveniences to make it easier, but, it’s still a harsh environment. We have the heat of the summer and the cold of the winter.
I have a new vehicle headed into this winter. It’s one of those “new to me” vehicles. It’s a 1994 Dodge Dakota. I bought it from my daughter last summer after she got a “new to her” truck.
Last winter I drove a 2006 Pontiac Grand Prix. It had a big powerful six cylinder engine, but it was a front wheel drive car with aging tires. I worried about getting caught in the snow or ice. A Dodge Dakota is a four wheel drive vehicle. My truck has nice all weather truck tires.
And yet, my truck is not without its challenges headed into the winter. When I bought it, the fan didn’t work. That meant that neither the air conditioner nor the heater worked. Fixing the fan was a minor fix. However, the missing rear window is a slightly more of an issue. It has a piece of plexiglass filling in for the sliding portion of the rear window.
It’s breezy.
I asked my daughter, who used the truck up in Cache county, what she did during the winter? “Bundled up well.”
I won’t get it fixed this winter. My daily commute is about 45 minutes. After the first 15 minutes, the truck heats up well enough. I guess we’ll see how well it works in the cold of January.
Cars have been a big part of my summer and fall this year. I’ve replaced the power steering pump, alternator, and fuel pump in my son’s car. I replaced the fuel pump in my Dodge along with the fan relay. And my daughter was in a minor accident that crumpled her hood, broke both headlights and mangled the top radiator support.
My cars are old. I understand that. And kids bang them around in high school. And for that I’m grateful. I was never a car guy. Not really. Not until I got an old car and had to make it run.
My love affair with old cars started tentatively enough: oil changes, brake jobs, things that were simple. I moved on to more complex jobs: an alternator replacement. A new radiator.
And now I have a car sitting in my drive way that needed new frame work. A radiator is pretty simple. And the condensor that goes in front of it, is also not difficult. But, the radiator support arm is welded to the frame. To replace it you have to find a new one in a junk yard and cut it off the old car. As well as cut the broken one off my daughter’s car. It’s a lot of grinder work.
Then, you have to fit the replacement one onto the frame and weld it in place. The tricky part is making sure that the hood latch, which attachs to the top radiator support arm, lines up perfectly so the hood will latch, and most importantly unlatch.
I didn’t do the actual welding. That was my good friend and good neighbor. But, the rest of the work was me; cutting, grinding, scrounging through junk yards, and having the time of my life at it.
I’m not sure when the transition happened, when I went from being afraid to not being afraid. From dreading repairs to reveling in them. But, it certainly happened.
Looking back, I was certainly not grateful at the time. And I have to admit, there’s a little trepidation each time my car hiccups. But, overall, I enjoy my time spent with a socket wrench and a screwdriver.
In fact, I’m grateful now those hours spent with my head stuck under a hood.
At this time of Thanksgiving, it’s important to be grateful for our blessings. And I certainly have my share, family, children, grandchildren, health and jobs. We should be grateful that we live in the most beautiful part of the country. We should be grateful for our truly pleasant community. We should be grateful for our country, our freedoms and those who fought and died to preserve them.
But, we should also be grateful for the hard things. For the times of sickness, the times of trial. We should be grateful for the challenging times. The sorrows and for the old broken down cars.
The end
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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These are my people. This is my land. These are my stories.
Reading Dead On The Corridor was like looking out my own window. I’ve lived in Utah, off and on, for twenty years or more. Dead On The Corridor takes place in and around Utah, Idaho and Nevada. The “corridor” is Interstate 15. It’s a tangible connection, but James Elliott uses the physical road simply as a jumping off point. He pulls at strings and stories that bind the peoples and communities on the corridor.
Mormanism is an inescapable element of any story of the Mountain West. Even Las Vegas was originally a Mormon settlement and has a Mormon temple there. Too often when stories are told of a subgroup, the details are just slightly off. Like a room built from a photograph, the details hidden in the corners and behind the cupboards are incomplete.
It was a delight to find that Elliott got the details just right. Obviously, this is his culture too.
Dead On The Corridor is a collection of nine short stories. They range in length from Santifications four pages, to fifty pages in Broken Millstones. Each story is unique, and yet they have a common theme: death. And yet, even in that common theme, Elliott still manages to surprise. And it speaks to his skill that each story sucked me in and made me forget that there was death at the end of it.
And when I had finally managed to remember that death was the theme, it gave a sense of dread to Hearts Of The Children, Elliott again managed to surprise me.
What I Liked
Most of it, honestly. The stories varied in length, time period, and even in their view of God and the universe. And yet, each one was a delight to read. The details that Elliott includes in Signs And Wonders were particularly well written. I’ve hiked the Wasatch Mountains in August. I’ve been under that blistering sun and walked through those stands of scrub oak. I was so drawn into the story that I remember thinking, “Where’s their water? They really shouldn’t be hiking on a day like that without plenty of water.”
The details are amazing. I intend to reread Dead On The Corridor often, and savor the details each time.
What I Didn’t
At 200 pages, Dead On The Corridor is not a long book. The nine stories run out too quickly. By necessity, Elliott chooses to present the religious aspects of his stories from the prespective of his characters. So, in some stories, God is real and influences the lives of his children. Other times, God is not real, or at least the characters don’t think so.
What It Means To You
Dead On The Corridor will most appeal to Mormoms living in Utah, Idaho and Nevada. But, the stories are told so well, that anyone who enjoys a good story will be entertained. In the Afterward, Elliott discusses having gotten these stories “out of his system.” Let’s hope that’s not true.
My Rating
Four out of Four stars
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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It’s still not loud enough.
Can we boost it with a software amplifier?
No. We tried that. It has to be a hardware amplifier.
I helped design our call center. We used a specific brand of computer. Everyone had the same same version of keyboard, mouse, monitor, and headset.
On the software side, it was just as uniform. We tested and upgraded our systems on a regular basis. Once a new update is approved, there is a small window during which every computer needed to be upgraded to the same software version. All the way down to the BIOS, the Binary Input/Output System, was exactly the same. And not just our centers, but all the clients suppliers had exactly the same computer setup.
The purpose of all the uniformity was simple. We were able to test a standard buildout and then ensure that we eliminate any incompatibilities. Changing even a simple portion of the build is an involved process. Any unilateral changes mean we are out of compliance. If a computer system is out of compliance, any problems that it might encounter are our own responsibility to fix.
Which is why we had such a problem. Our standard setup was sufficient for most agents. But, what about agents who were hard of hearing? With our old system, using desktop phones, we had amplifiers that went between the phone and the headset. As a missionary in Chicago years ago, I used similar devices while working with deaf and hard of hearing missionaries.
Mormon missionaries are young men just out of high school, who devote two years to service and teaching. Being young, they love to play pranks. Our apartment had a phone with an amplifier on it.
My trainer, an experienced missionary responsible for teaching me, dialed a number and took the phone into his office. His hearing was fine, so the amplifier was set to the lowest setting. It turned out to be a long phone call. Every few minutes I would move the amplifier up a single setting. By the time his phone call was done, the amplifier was at its highest setting of 10.
After about 15 minutes he came out to hang up the phone and noticed the amplifier setting. I couldn’t contain my laughter. He couldn’t either.
No wonder my head hurts so bad.
But, what was an opportunity for a prank when I was 20 was a problem for me now. I typically don’t fix problems. My job involves identifying problems and then finding the right people to fix them. That didn’t work in this case.
It’s not the fault of my team. I asked engineers to study the problem and find a solution. The issue is that we have a softphone. A computer-based phone that “lives” inside the computer itself.
Our headsets have a unique connection to the computer, not a typical headset that you might plug into your iPhone. And that was our problem. There simply were no amplifiers for this unique setup.
We could, by making a slight change to the base build, configure a computer to use a headset like your iPhone takes. But, as we looked there were still no good options for an external amplifier. My team continued to look for an option that might meet our needs. But, none gave our agent the tools he needed to do his job.
I’m hesitant to insert myself into engineering process. I moved away from the day-to-day engineering work a long time ago. I’ve found the best way to engage engineers is to give them an objective and then get out of their way and let them find an innovative solution. They will often find solutions that I never even considered.
But, in this case, they were stumped. And it was time to attempt to be creative. My boss wanted answers.
Rodney, are you aware of the issue with the headsets?
Yes. I’ve been working with the engineers, but we haven’t found a solutions yet.
We need this fixed.
I’ve got an idea. I’ll have a proposal for you tomorrow.
I realized I’d been thinking very much inside the box. I’d been approaching it as a telecom problem, or a computer problem. When, really it’s an audio problem.
I have an 8 channel Mackie audio mixer. A mixer board is used in audio productions. It’s used in recording studios. It’s used in concerts to control the various microphones and speakers. It’s used to take an input and amplify it.
Tomorrow, I’ll put together a mini-production system. A 4-channel mixer, the necessary adapter plugs, an external microphone and a set of noise cancelling headphones. A mixer board, has its own power supply. It can use this power to amplify the output. In fact, my mixer board can easily overpower my speakers if I turn it up too high.
This one goes to eleven.
(Part of the reason my teenagers don’t have access to it!)
I don’t know if the solution will work. I hope it will. I don’t see any reason it should not. But, that’s why we do testing. My setup may be the solution. If it is, it will once again show the value of out-of-the-box thinking, and how solutions to a problem in one area may be foundfromn a completely different direction.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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