All About Mick's World

November 30, 2015 5:30 am Coffee greets me as I walk into the kitchen. A good way to start any day, even a day such as this, my last day of work at Mitsubishi. No lunch to pack this time, as I don't anticipate being in the plant past about 10:30. I will need to bring my own pen to use though, we have been told by the company. Seems a little cheap and petty, but I guess I'll play by their rules...for one last time. 6:30 am This is it. The turnstile swinging around, locking noisily behind me. We aren't sure just exactly what will happen today, we just know we will not be spinning the turnstiles tomorrow morning, as we each did some 6,000 times in the past. Rumor has it that we will be told to sit in our respective break areas until called in to the front lobby to sign our acceptance of termination. (My choice of words, not theirs. I just thought it better signified the proper weight of the occasion.) It's a damp dreary morning, perhaps befitting the somber

The Future The future. It’s always ahead of us. Just a moment away, and out of our grasp. We never know exactly what the future will bring us, but we generally have an idea. Tomorrow and the next day, and the next, etc. will follow a pattern mimicking today and yesterday, and the day before, etc. Today the alarm went off entirely too early, just like it did last Monday, and just like it will next Monday. I’ll stumble barefoot to the shower and begin another somewhat predictable day, in the same way as thousands of days before. As I read the book of my life, and I turn the page to the next day and the next, the writing is there, accurately telling me of what much of my day will consist. A few of the details may be erroneous, and as I peer further into the future the page may contain fewer and fewer specific predictions, but still, the continual lifestream goes on in much the same way as in the past. This consistency will come crashing to a halt in just a few days, as I open to

Soon, all too soon, I think. Soon I will take my final walk through those familiar orange double doors. Walk in and see all the mechanicals bathed in unnatural fluorescent lighting. Walk in and smell that unidentifiable and yet unmistakable odor that permeates the plant. Walk in to the incessant clanking of the overhead conveyor that transits the car doors to the assembly line. Walk in and see all of my coworkers, wearing the burgundy and gray Mitsubishi uniform in all imaginable shapes and sizes. Walk in to see the yellow painted robots performing their choreographed dance of automotive assembly, contrasting with the dull pale green paint on most every other metal surface. Walk in to see all the cars in progressive stages of assembly. Walk in on the bare, smooth, worn concrete floors. It was just over 26 years ago that I first walked through those doors. Wide-eyed with anticipation, excited, timid, and unsure. No idea what this expansive building had in store for me. In the 27 yea

I've been writing this blog thing for a few years now. As I said in one of my first posts, I do this almost exclusively for my own entertainment and enjoyment. Having said that, I'm quite pleased with all of the feedback and comments I've gotten regarding my writing. (It does make me wonder what kind of sheltered literary life you lead, if you find my scrawlings interesting.) For the first time ever now, I've been commissioned by someone to write a particular piece. My commission? Beer, of course. Since I have a fondness for IPAs and a love of writing, Steve wants me to rate a selection of those beers from Alabama. Sure, I think, why not? I should begin with a description of my beer preferences I suppose. My taste in beer leans strongly toward IPAs, a type of beer first brewed way back when England was a world power with territories around the globe, long before air travel was invented. England would trade with its territories by sailing ship, and one of the provisi

"By the end of November 2015, Mitsubishi will end production at the plant in Normal." Shock, disbelief, denial. No, scratch the denial. They told us flat out it's happening. Can't deny that. Why I had been so sure this was not going to happen: 1. In my area of the plant, the company two weeks before had just installed $100,000 of upgrades to the equipment that installs the wheels. Why would they spend so much on something that would only be used temporarily? 2. During the month of the announcement we were working overtime, ten hour days to meet demand. Overtime adds cost to production costs, so why not work standard eight hour shifts to keep costs down? 3. Four days previously the company had hired a group of full time employees to keep manufacturing at full staff. Why pay more personnel? 4. On a monthly basis the company has put out memos bragging of sales increases. With sales on the upswing, wouldn't it make sense to continue productio

Well hello there! I'm Stewart....Stewart T. Squirrel, but if you like, you can call me Stew. All my friends do. Very pleased to meet ya'. This is a little odd, but I'm talking to you all from the grave. I don't understand exactly how this is happening, but take my word for it. Weird, eh? I'd like to share with you all a little story from my last days there on earth...and maybe even a little beyond that. My year begins as they all do, with me coming out of hibernation. With three months of sleep behind me you'd expect me to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (literally), but more than anything else, I was hungry. Famished. There are no nuts in the trees this time of the year, but being the genius squirrel that I am, all I need do is dig up the ones I'd buried last fall. Um...so, does anybody know just where I had done that? Nope? Dang, thanks anyway. I’ll just start poking around….nothing here, ooh, that smells familiar! Yes, score! An acorn right where I b

March 22, 2015 ~11:00 am Steve and I finally finish the last pull into that bastard 38 degree wind from the east, turning left off of 2200N onto 2450E toward Lexington. It’s early in the season for me and I’m pleased to be matching Steve on this pull. My races and other events are off in my future, but my partner here has already begun a successful racing season. We make the turn and continue about another 100 meters on the front as the pack of 6 regroups. The two of us drift to the rear to rest for a bit as Brad and Vicken pick up the pace, enjoying the wind giving us all a boost. The road makes a slight curve into a downhill as the pace picks up another notch. My eyes open a bit more as I hear one of the front runners call out "Squirrel!" I've encountered the furry critters in the past without a single issue (unless you consider the one that I "de-tailed" on the trail in town one time.) I watch as the varmint skitters past the other riders, and then z