That's Not Home!

You know you work a lot of hours when you accidentally refer to your work station as "home."

Uh, happened to a friend....yeah...

I'm pleading the Fifth.

Speaking of work, I love it when instant Karma hits someone hard.  See, second shift is always complaining that we don't do enough work over in my department.  They insist, even though Brazing Boss has hard numbers proving we braze nearly twice as many headers in an average day as they do.

Today, I got to work, and went over to the line for which I braze and began making sure they were set up for the day.  I glanced over at the florator line (and it's not necessary that you know exactly what a florator is for this story, other than it's a part we use) and noticed something was not quite right with one of the orders.   I got the order paper out of the bin, and looked up a print, just to be sure.  Yep, I was correct.  There was something not quite right with it.

I took the paper back up to the brazing department, where second shift supervisor was in the process of chewing out Group Leader --for what I'm not entirely sure.  I heard her say, "I leave you set up...", but I was trying not to eavesdrop.  I hovered on the outside, not wanting to interrupt, when Group Leader turned to me and said, "What you got, Becky?"

I held up the paper and said, "This is built wrong."

BAM!  

Instant karma.

Second shift supervisor asked me what was wrong with it, and I explained the problem to her.  Group Leader took the paper to have the parts re-done.  Second shift supervisor just put her head down and walked away, and I went back to what I was doing, trying not to gloat.  Too much.

Here's the deal.  I sing.  Notice I didn't say I sing well.  My style can best be described as Bobcat In Heat, but since my coworkers are all required to wear earplugs anyway, I figure they're safe.  So I sing.  At work.  All day long.

Yesterday, I was mentally running through my guitar chords, trying to see if I remembered where to put my fingers and all.  When I got to the G chord, I heard the chord in my head.  As soon as that happened, I belted out the first line of an iconic country song.  Now, how I knew the first chord to that song was a G is beyond me, but somehow I did.  And I belted out the first line.  It was almost a Pavlovian response.  Once that happened, all hope was lost.  It became my ear worm.

Just out of curiosity, when I went on my 2:30 break, I looked up the guitar tabs for that song, and much to my delight, I found a simplified version that only uses three chords -- all of which I know!  By the way, I was correct.  The first chord IS a G.  I was so stoked that as soon as I got home from work and ate a bite of supper, and tried to look up a tutorial on YouTube.

And got distracted by this:



This is Marty Music.  He's got some good lessons, too, but I wish he'd do more beginner acoustic lessons, as most of his seem geared towards electric guitar.  Anyway, he's got five beginner strum pattern videos, and what I like about him is he doesn't just show you the pattern and say, "go practice".  He does it with you, as a real teacher might.  He also bounces back and forth between two chords in each one, so you get that practice in as well.  As a result, I spent more time practicing my guitar than usual yesterday, so you didn't get a blog post.

Good for the guitar.  Not so much for the blog.

Oh, and the iconic country song I can now play, but not very well is this:




The bad news is, I just ordered a book of sheet music from The Piano Guys website.  I'm afraid the guitar might fall by the wayside once again.  I want to keep up with it, too, but until the plant decides to stop working us to death, I may only have time for one, and I know which one it will be.

As my friend said, "Your face just lights up when you talk about that piano."