The Gutter Chronicles: The Continuing Saga of Norman D Gutter, Engineer
By David Todd
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About this ebook
Norman D Gutter graduates with his civil engineering degree, and takes a job with I.C.E. Engineering in far away Appleville. Full of great hopes to make a difference in the world, he quickly encounters the reality of having to work with strange people in a semi-disfunctional consulting engineering company.
There's his immediate supervisor, Ned O. Justice, who has trouble remembering that he has a job to do. His office mates, Peter Pan and Joe The Surly, are quite strange. Uriah Serpe, the Chairman of Founder of the company, is a charicature of the high-stressed, hard-charging aging bossman. Tank Luzano does his job well, but doesn't give Norman confidence of where the company is heading.
The city engineer of Appleville, Chowdahead, lives up to his name. Then there's the illusive J.J. Weast, of the Accounting Department. Is J.J. a man or a woman, and will Norman ever find out? And what about the purchasing manager, Yukin Stuffet, who thinks his job is to make purchasing a nightmare.
And Norman has nightmares, as he becomes his own superhero, transported back in time to solve the engineering problems of history.
THE GUTTER CHRONICLES traces Norman's first year at I.C.E. Engineering. This pokes fun at the consulting engineering business, particularly the civil engineering portion of that.
David Todd
David Todd is a civil engineer by profession (37 years), a genealogist by avocation, an environmentalist by choice, and a writer by passion. He grew up in Rhode Island, where he attended public schools in Cranston and then the University of Rhode Island. In his adult life he has lived in Kansas City, Saudi Arabia, Asheboro North Carolina, Kuwait, and now northwest Arkansas since 1991. Along the way he acquired a love for history and poetry. He currently works at CEI Engineering Associates, Inc. in Bentonville, Arkansas. He is Corporate Trainer for Engineering, which includes planning and conducting training classes and mentoring younger staff. He is the senior engineer at the company, and hence gets called on to do the more difficult projects that most of the younger engineers don't feel confident to tackle. He has recently worked on a number of floodplain studies and mapping projects. He is a registered engineer in three states, a Certified Professional in Erosion and Sediment Control, and a Certified Construction Specifier (certification lapsed). He has been actively pursuing genealogy for fifteen years, having done much to document his and his wife's ancestry and family history. He has been writing creatively for eleven years.
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The Gutter Chronicles - David Todd
The Gutter Chronicles
The Continuing Saga of Norman D Gutter, Engineer
Volume 1
Including
An excerpt from
The Collected Poems of
Norman D. Gutter
David A. Todd
2012
THE GUTTER CHRONICLES
The continuing saga of Norman D. Gutter, Engineer
Volume 1
Copyright 2012 by
David A. Todd
Smashwords Edition
Cover by Lee Ann Gray
TABLE OF CONTENTS
1 The Interview
2 The First Day
3 The Hazing
4 J.J. Weast
Poem: The Legend of J.J. Weast
5 The Strong Arm of the Regulator
6 GUS Alert
7 Togerther The Great and the Trojan Horse
8 Bubba and the Competition
9 The Architect and the Note
10 A Walking Wheel and a 100 Foot Tape
11 Tales of I.C.E. of Old
12 The Construction Zone
Poem: The Ned Justice Story
13 On His Own
14 Togerther the Great and the Pyramid of Khafre
15 A Pleasant Lunch
THE GUTTER CHRONICLES
The continuing saga of Norman D. Gutter, Engineer
Chapter 1
The Interview
It was a cold day, but that was to be expected for January 2nd. A strong easterly wind howled along Main Street between the three-story buildings on either side as a young man uncertainly approached his destination on foot. The building was non-descript, sort of like the man himself: building with brick front, small hanging sign that creaked in the wind, sidewalk clear of the frozen stuff but stained with signs of recent rock salt use; man of average height, average build, no outstanding features, dressed for business but with obviously inexpensive clothes, no jewelry, anxious eyes. Looking through the glass front he saw a small but attractive lobby. There was a certain bustle, as a couple of men and women crisscrossed the area, holding papers and seeming to be in a hurry. Down the hall he could see an older man and woman talking. At the entrance door were two women and a man smoking, hanging close to the door to stay out of the wind and cold as much as possible.
Well, here I go,
he thought. As he neared the door the smokers parted. They all avoided eye contact with the man and with each other. With his eyes down, a can filled with crushed butts served as a focus of his attention. Inside he approached a receptionist behind a counter. She was about to speak to him when the phone rang and she took a call. He waited perhaps ten seconds as she talked to the caller, tried an extension, and then paged an individual, finally saying, Good morning, may I help you?
Yes please, ma’am. Norman Gutter here for a job interview at 10 a.m. with Mrs. Mize.
She advised him to have a seat while his party was sought. It took barely a minute before a tall, slender woman approached him and introduced herself and tried to put him at ease.
Hello Mr. Gutter. I’m Minnie Mize. Welcome to I.C.E. Engineering. Did you bring this cold weather with you today?
She handed him a job application form, just a bit different than the one he had mailed in with his resume, and said he should fill this out. Twenty minutes later he was ushered into a small conference room. Mrs. Mize said she was Human Resources director and that she would conduct the interview. A couple of other people would sit in, she said, and perhaps would have some questions for him. A tour of the offices would ensue, followed by lunch and a brief follow-up meeting for him to ask questions, after which they would have him on his way to the airport by 2:30 or so.
They chatted a bit. So, I’m curious. If you don’t mind my asking, what kind of a name is ‘Gutter’?
It’s originally German, ma’am, Gütterman. My great-grandfather immigrated here in 1914. His boat landed just after the outbreak of World War 1. At Ellis Island he decided his name sounded too German, so he shortened it to Gutter.
People started coming into the rooman older man, followed by two young men, and a woman. What happened next was a blurNorman would have been hard pressed to recount this to anyone. The door was closed and his interviewers introduced themselves, in rapid fire succession. Mrs. Mize had barely started the interview when a phone in the room beeped loudly, a page was made, and one of the men got up and left. As he did, two more men entered and had seats but were not introduced. One of them was wearing a navy blue jogging suit with light blue stripes and tennis shoes, his jacket unzipped, revealing a sweat-soaked tee shirt. He had an unlit cigarette in his hand, which he tapped constantly on the palm of his other hand. He didn’t speak at all. The interviewers said they would ask a few questions not only about his college studies and summer employment, but also about some of his earlier life experiences. Then the questions began to come at him fast and furious.
What is your earliest childhood memory?
How did your parents treat you as you were growing up?
Do you play softball?
Or basketball?
Are you willing to travel?
Tell us about the ‘C’ you got in this course.
How did you like that summer surveying job?
What are your main career goals?
And many more, on and on. Norman felt terribly uneasy and uncomfortable, and wondered if the interview procedures had been patterned after an FBI grilling that someone saw in a movie. The room got hot, but no one turned on the ceiling fan. The phone continued to interrupt and blurt out names and line numbers, but no one turned down the speaker. People came and went without rhyme or reason or introduction.
Finally, as if by a signal that Norman missed, the interview was over. He was left in the company of a man for the tourwas it Jimmy Bob? Or maybe John Rob? From floor to floor and building to building Jimmy, or John, introduced him to every person they came in contact with, mentioned department names and functions, took time to chat with a couple of guys about some sports event for that night. Norman was sure he even got introduced to the janitor somewhere on the tour.
About noon they donned coats, left the main building and walked about two blocks to a small café on the downtown square. They went through the ordering line, selected burgers and fries from the limited menu board, and had seats in a booth. So much, Norman thought, for the advice of his college advisor: take all the interview flights you can; at least you’ll get a free trip and a nice lunch out of it. They were soon joined by a couple of others, a man and a woman, who had been in the interview. Norman hoped he would not be required to remember their names, as he might as well call them Adam and Eve. The conversation floated between sports, the company, cars, the food, and the weather. To Norman it was all still a blur. He had not expected to be interviewed by committee. The noise in the cafe seemed deafening. The people in his party were constantly being greeted by other diners. The food was greasy, but tasty. Norman was glad when they got up, bussed their table and exited back into the cold.
Back at the office, Mrs. Mize gave Norman some information about I.C.E. benefits, which he spent some time reading. She came back and answered his questions about the benefits package. They seemed okay to him. Minnie then said that the head man
wanted to meet him briefly, and would be available shortly. Would he mind waiting? Shortly turned out to be a forty-five minute wait in the lobby. He read the I.C.E. marketing brochures spread out on the table. He scanned a booklet by the Chamber of Commerce about the city, Appleville. But mostly he watched the continuous flow of people through the lobby and down the hall. The receptionist was almost never off the phone. People constantly went in and out the front door, usually carrying papers, books, or rolls of drawings. Federal Express and Airborne packages began to pile up on the lobby table. this place certainly seemed to be busy, and the people seemed happy, if a bit stressed. He began to drift off to sleep.
Finally Mrs. Mize came back and escorted him to a row of offices, where he was introduced to Jim Main. Norman didn’t quite get his exact title, perhaps President or Chief Operating Officer, but he understood him to be in charge. Clean cut, younger looking than expected, with office walls decorated with diplomas and licenses and photos of projects, Mr. Main seemed to be just what he, Norman Gutter, as he started his career, was hoping to become. Main gave him a few kind words and said he hoped he wasn’t overwhelmed by the interview process. Norman lied and said that it went fine. Main talked about his plans for the company, which included expansion into new markets, new regions, and perhaps overseas engineering, and said how he needed good, young engineers to accomplish this. He asked if Norman had any question that hadn’t been answered.
Yes, what does I.C.E. stand for?
Jim Main smiled and simply said, Nothing, any more. At one time it may have stood for something, but no one can remember what it is.
With that, the interview was over. Minnie gave him a