My shredder

[fbhjr]

As this is “old Frank story” week, I thought I’d tell the tale of my shredder. (My apologies to those who heard it in the car this weekend, but this has pictures...)

From 2000-2003 I worked for a start up company that made automated inspection equipment. As a start up, it was very much like a roller coster. Up, down, over, under with lots of people involved.
In 3 1/2 years I had 6 different bosses. Some not for very long, only a few days. Some for more than a year.

When I started, my boss, his boss, his boss and the CEO were all mechanical engineers like I was. Two had even gone to the same school. We got along fairly well. They had a high level of respect for mechanical design as a function and seemed to think well of me specifically.

But, as the company evolved, the VP of engineering moved on and was replaced. Ramin, the new VP, was an electrical engineer. He replaced the other layers between me and the CEO with other electrical engineers. He did not have much respect for what I did. It was nothing personal about me, he just didn’t think what I did was of much value to the company, no matter how well I did it.

At one point we were developing a new machine just before a trade show. Our marketing people wanted to show a concept of the new machine at the show. Ramin had strong ideas of what it should be, but could not describe what he wanted.
“Do many concepts,” he said. “I will pick the best one and we will move on from there.”
So, we came up with several different concepts for the machine based on different construction methods. He picked some aspects of each and asked us to combine it.

This took some time, and the trade show was getting closer.
The day folks going to the show were going to leave, he asked for another revision. The head of marketing asked me if I had anything for him, and I told him to ask Ramin.

Ramin did not like the latest version and asked for another change. As he was leaving as he said this, I was told to email the new version and he would check his email when he changed planes in Chicago and let me know.

I went back to my office, threw the existing design in the trash, made the changes, emailed them to Ramin and went to lunch.

A couple of hours later, he called me from Chicago.

“Why did you give that bad design to marketing?” he asked me.
“I didn’t,” I said. “You haven’t approved it yet.”
“I have an email from marketing with the brochure showing the machine I told you to change. You must have given it to them.”
“No,” I said. “I showed it to you and threw it away after I made your changes.”
“You gave it to them,” he said.
“No, it’s right here in my trash,” I said, going over to the can.
It wasn’t there.
“It looks like they raided my trash can and took it out of there,” I told him. “I didn’t give it to them, they just took it.”
“Because you were not careful enough with it!” he shouted. “Now we will have a bad design shown to everyone at the trade show!”
“The one with your changes should be in your email,” I said. “Tell them to use that one instead.”
“It is too late! They are printing the brochures now! They are wrong because you were careless!”
He hung up.

I walked over to marketing.
“Joe,” I said to the head of marketing. “Did you raid my trash for a drawing of the new machine?”
“Yeah, and it had soda or something on it too,” he said. “I had to run it through the copier to get the image usable.”
“Ramin is on the war path because he thinks I gave it to you.”
“I stole it,” he said. “And, I wouldn’t have had to if he hadn’t waited until the last minute.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t raid my trash again,” I said. “And, if you own up to doing so when you see Ramin.”

That night I went over to Staples and bought a $20 shredder. I put it out in front of my office the next day.
I shredded every piece of paper in my office that belonged to the company.
I shredded every piece of paper anyone at work brought me for the next two weeks.
(Just for the record, direct deposit gives you the ability to shred your “paycheck” in front of your boss without actually getting rid of the money. You’re just shredding the record, the money is in your account already.)

The two project managers tried to get me to stop.
Ramin tried to get me to stop.
Finally the CEO came over and told me that no one really thought I had given out material inappropriately and told me he’d charge me for the power I was using if I didn’t lay off.
I still shredded a lot, but not everything.

I also used my rendering software at home to make up some fake machines and leave them around the marketing department.
None of them ever made it into a brochure...






I still have the shredder almost 10 years later. It is still very fun to use and I still use it often. And, I never put a piece of paper through it without thinking of Ramin...

Comments

[palusbuteo.livejournal.com]

OMG what a story!

In my mind I have an image of the shredder making lots of long, thin strips of shredded material...And I think "It makes Ramin-Noodles!"

Feel free to use that.

I like your machines, too.