Here’s a story that captures the plight of the engineer.
The holiday season arrives. Today is the last day before your break — a well-deserved break, too.
But then the manager tells you something in the studio is not right. So you go down the hall … and your excitement about getting a few days off drops like a rock. Yes, the morning guy has spilled liquid into the console. Argh!
Immediately you switch all the programming to another studio, thankful to have a backup. You then power down all equipment in the studio, reminding yourself that yelling and screaming won’t do anything (though it would make you feel better).
The morning guy is responsible for enough billing to know that you’ll have to take the bullet, go in and fix it right away without escalating the incident to management. In your most gentle voice, you ask what the liquid was. The answer comes back from this experienced talent: “I don’t know.”
Arghh, why is this day so aggravating? Already you realize that you are not going to make the company holiday lunch.
Okay you’ve got the console open, and you see the black liquid. Chants go through your head: “I hope this is not soda.” It’s time to play Sherlock Holmes. Quickly you glance around the studio for a cup. Nothing on the table. You look in the trash can. Yes, it was coffee.
Back to the “talent,” and you channel your best Joe Friday from “Dragnet.”
You: Just the facts. I know you were drinking coffee. Did you have it with sugar?
Talent: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
You (raising your voice): Listen, I need to know what’s on the equipment.
Talent: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
You: JUST THE FACTS. Sugar will cause more damage.
Talent (now sounding ashamed): I drank it black, no milk, no sugar.
Okay. Now you know what it is that must be cleaned up and what must be inspected.
Most of the coffee went onto the exterior of the console but some into the faders. But you remove all the modules and look at the motherboard. You clean the edge connectors, you look and clean any remnants of anything foreign on the board. Cramolin is our friend. We are good!
Next it is time to clean the modules. Yes, all the modules! Luckily, this console has sealed P&G glass faders. You take the Windex Original Glass Cleaner (chosen because it leaves no residue) and you clean the glass rods. You make sure the board in each fader is clean. You reseal the fader. You curse when you drop a tiny screw and it takes 10 minutes to find.
The manager comes in and asks how much longer. You look up and say, “As long as it takes.” He understands and quickly scurries away.
Back to work.
You clean the faceplate. You clean the switches. Some residue (maybe not from this spill) is visible on the button caps. You scrub and whittle (memories of years in Boy Scouts) to get off everything.
Now you reassemble. You test every module and function. You are aware that the holiday is upon you. You do not want to be called back.
All is good! All programming is moved back to the main studio.
So much for your calm day. You missed the company lunch; but you can report to the program director and general manager what had happened and tell them, gladly, that it has been fixed. You feel like the conquering hero.
Then it happens. The general manager nicely asks if you are coming in during the holiday break. You say NO. And you contemplate updating your résumé.
