Teaching Old Dogs

By Dave Dickinson

The following article appeared in the Summer/Fall 2009 issue of Construction Superintendent:

I should have known it was going to be a bad "techno" day when work started with my printer failing to print. I had been limping by on a nearly empty toner cartridge, removing the cartridge periodically to shake it before reinserting, using the last grains of black stuff to make just one more copy. A new toner sat nearby in its cardboard box, ready to be popped in. So there I was, in a decades old job trailer, running multimillion dollar projects with a fleet of new technology at my fingertips. I was fairly comfortable using this plethora of technology but acquiring the skills necessary to navigate this machinery has not been an easy thing for me.

Perhaps in no other venue does the old adage, “you can"t teach an old dog new tricks,” apply more than with old carpenters. Having mastered rough and finish carpentry skills and finally taking the leap from laborer to the guy in the trailer, I have found the transition into the age of technology the biggest and most difficult feat of all. While the younger crowd moves with ease and grace through each technology advance, those of us with calloused fingers more often find ourselves wishing for the good old days; banging nails into rafters 25 feet up in the air, the smell of fresh cut white pine in our beards. Sure we advance too, but often it's with a great deal of kicking and screaming and frequently we"re at least one step behind.

On that day, I should have paused and changed the toner. But, I had more pressing things to do just then so I ran ahead full steam, prepping for an owner and architect punch list that was scheduled for 8 a.m. I was ready when the owner and our team members walked in for the punch list ritual. We started in the basement, carefully reviewing the completed work, looking for deficiencies in product or installation. I have my laptop on a cart, each item of concern, duly typed into an Excel spreadsheet to be taken care of by the noted subcontractor at a later date.
As we finished the basement I realized that my computer battery wouldn"t make it for the duration. I took the cart up the elevator and plugged into the hallway receptacle. We finished the first floor and moved on to the second floor where only a small area remained to complete the task.

As I pushed the computer cart out of the elevator into the foyer of the second floor, the wheels bumped on the elevator threshold and my computer jostled. The screen went black with no warning. I had a sick feeling. I plugged the computer back in and the reboot seemed to take forever. As the screen lit up it was clear that my manuscript was blank, an empty spreadsheet. My co-worker Wendy's face was nearly as white as my own. I stepped back and let Wendy take over. She's one that carries a BlackBerry, and I knew I was out classed in computer savvy. I sauntered over to the other members and pretended to look at punch list items.

We pressed on; all the while I was glancing over my shoulder and watching Wendy's face contort in concentration as she tried to coax the computer into giving back the precious document buried in its graveyard. Nearly 15 minutes slipped by. The architect knew something was up. He sidled back and demanded to know what was happening. Wendy glanced up and continued working the keyboard, while I admitted the loss of the document. Suddenly she said, “I think that's it.” She hit two more keys and we watched as the missing file appeared like a ghost on my screen. I stuck out my hand for a high five and Wendy grabbed it in both of hers and shook it up and down while dancing a jig. She hit save and took over the typing duties. We finished the remaining punch list and made our way out of the building. Wendy made me promise to e-mail her the file as soon as I hit my trailer.

[Article picks up below from the print version in the Summer/Fall Issue]

Things didn"t get a lot better for me. I e-mailed the document to Wendy but was immediately called back to the job for other problems. An hour later, I attempted to print a copy. Ah yes, the toner issue. I opened the box and took out the toner package, a sleek silver tinfoil bomb with a dozen warning instructions on it. The box held a “surprise” also, a 4 page instruction manual in 14 different languages. I was still shook up and in no mood to read directions. Glancing at them, it was hard to find the English in amidst the other languages, so I only scanned them briefly. I popped out the old toner, inserted the new and hit print on my computer. Nothing responded, not even a gurgle. I hit print again and again with the same result. I checked and rechecked the cords. I hit copy and a copy spit out. I rebooted the computer, turned the printer on and off and checked the plugs again. Everything was tight. Now I was flustered.
I ran back into the building and took care of some questions, tried to concentrate and began to falter. I called Wendy — she had saved me once already today. She said try the plugs, reboot. Ran inside, talked to the heating controls guy, came back out, and e-mailed several subcontractors forgetting to include the attachment that I told them was inserted. Called Wendy again, e-mailed her the attachment to forward to the subs only to send her the wrong document.

I gave up. Wendy would have to print the documents I needed and fax them to me. I started to download some pictures from my camera. As I reached over to plug in the camera cord I realized that my printer didn"t work because the camera cord was plugged into the printer slot. Wow, what a disaster! Printer plugged back in, reams of paper spurted out. There they were three hard copies of an 11 page punch list.

I let out a deep breath and deflated. How can it be so hard, this mastering of plastic and metal, this striving to understand chips, gigs, USB's and flash, jump and hard drives?   Why do I struggle with programming numbers into my phone when kids a quarter my age are discussing the best components to building their own computer systems? And why didn"t I just sit in my trailer at 6:45 am, read the instructions on the toner package and change out the toner before starting my day?

Dave Dickinson is a project superintendent with Hoffman LLC, an Appleton Wis. based design-build, construction management firm that specializes in sustainable projects. He has been involved in construction for 25 years, 17 of those years as a superintendent, and has been with Hoffman for 10 years. He is LEED AP certified and enjoys canoeing, canoe building and camping when not at work.