Down in the Dumps

A perfect day for a flat tire...

During the warmer seasons, part of my weekend routine involves mowing the lawn and any subsequential yard work that goes with it. I prefer to bag the grass clippings because it makes the yard look tidier. The bagger collects leaves and nuts from the trees in the yard, as well as weeds and their seeds. However, it is illegal to put grass clippings into the trash bins for regular weekly collection in Milwaukee. Grass clippings must be bagged and driven to the City Dump.

The City Dump in not my favorite place to be on the best of days. On hot summer days, it smells like the horse barn at the State Fair and has twice as many flies. In fall, there are long wait lines to get inside as everyone is trying to get the last of their outdoor yard work done before the snow flies. Additionally, the facility is a “self-help” station, and the contracted employees do not help anyone with their loads. Their main purpose is to tell you in which bin to put your trash and then watch you do it. 

On a recent October Saturday, the weather was perfect to get some yard work done. After mowing, I loaded the back of my Saturn Vue with two large trash bags of grass clippings, and drove to the Dump. Although many residents had been doing last minute yard work, the line to enter the Dump was not too bad. It didn’t take long for me to get into the facility’s driveway.

As I was getting my ID out of my purse, I noticed a fellow exit the vehicle behind me and run up to mine. Mom rolled down her window and the young man said, “You have a flat tire!” Mom said, “Are you KIDDING ME??” The guy said, “No...it is REALLY flat.” I said, “Great. That wasn’t like that when we left the house!” 

As I pulled my vehicle up to the Check Point, we could here the sickening “flap-click, flap-click, flap-click” of the tire. I moved my car out of the traffic path, got out and looked at the right rear tire. Yep, it was flatter than flat!

Taking Care of Business

We were near the bins for grass clippings, so we walked the bags of grass over to the bins to access the spare tire and lighten the load of the car so it could be jacked up. While I was getting the tools out, I instructed Mom to ask one of the Dump workers for assistance.

A fellow named “José” said he’d have to ask his supervisor for permission to help us. The supervisor came over to assess the situation, then requested over his walkie-talkie: “Are there any fine gentlemen who would help fix a flat tire for a young lady?” 

“And her mother...” I pointed out.

“And her mother...” the supervisor added.

Meanwhile José began to position the jack under the car. But when no one else responded, the Supervisor transmitted a second request: “All right...Are there any JERKS who would help fix a flat tire for a young lady and her mother??”

Two African-American guys came over. Upon seeing José, helping me remove the lug covers, the older of the two guys observed, “Well, there’s already a jerk helping here.” The humor of the workers was welcomed as it kept me from crying about the unfortunate situation I found myself in.

Watching José use the tire iron to loosen the lugs with great effort, I commented, “If I were loosening them, I’d probably be grunting out loud!” After all the lugs were loose, José jacked up the car, and I helped remove them. “Here, Ralphie,” I said to Mom as I handed her the lugs. She and José both laughed.

Then José noticed the cause of the flat: a broken razor blade, most likely from a utility knife that had fallen from some Dump patron’s load. It must have landed blade up between pavement cracks, laying in wait for an unsuspecting motorist. The blade was embedded deep enough in the tread to damage the tire. I told José that I had not had a flat tire on my vehicle in 10 years. He said I was lucky. Working at the City Dump, he gets a flat tire on his car about every three months. I laughed, “Yikes! I’m never coming here again!”

Nothing Goes Smoothly

We got the lugs off, but the tire was so oxidized, it would not budge. I asked José if he had any WD-40 to loosen the rust away, and luckily there was a can in his utility shed. I sprayed between the rim and the treads of the lugs. After a few minutes, we tried again to remove the tire. Together José and I tugged and kicked at the tire, but it still would not give way.

“I have an idea,” I said, “Let’s drop her and let gravity and the weight of the car work for us. She should pop right off, right?” It was a good plan, except that my emergency jack is not the “quick drop” kind. It is a “crank-up/crank-down” style. Still, it was worth a try.

As I lowered the jack and the tire came to rest on the pavement, the tire did give way about an 1/16 of an inch at the top. José confirmed it. I began to crank the jack up again. As it cleared the pavement, José began to “donkey” kick at the tire again. 

Another Dump patron who was slowly passing by in his truck, said, “I used to do that for a living.” He suggested, “Kick it lower, on the corner of the rim, and then alternate sides.” And José did; kicking it six more times—left-left, right-right, left-left—the tire finally came loose. Mom and I cheered. I thanked the truck driver for his advice as José took the tire off and put it in the back of my car.

As I put the spare on, José sat on the ground to better position the tire. “Ralphie...” I said to Mom and I held my hand out to retrieve the lugs from her. I sat down next to José, and put the nuts back on the tire as I had been taught by my Dad: top of the star, bottom, right, left, bottom. I tightened them by hand first, continuing to alternating lugs as I did.

José lowered the jack and the spare tire came to rest on the pavement. He continued to tighten the lug nuts. When he was done, I put the jack back in my car. I told José I would say a special prayer for him at Church and Mom agreed, calling him our “Good Samaritan.”

Our trip to the Dump took more than 30 minutes. I was relieved we were able to find some help there, but the afternoon was slipping away and the tire still had to be repaired or replaced.

Finding a Bargain

Driving down Miller Park Way, I noticed a Firestone Tire Center with a “TIRE SALE” sale on its bay door. I turned into the shop and the service rep said it would be a 45 minute wait until they could look at my tire. If they could repair the tire, it would cost only $21. Mom and I decided to walk up the road to a Wendy’s restaurant for a late lunch and wait for the service center to call with their diagnosis.

About half an hour later, the service rep called and said the slash in the tire was irreparable. When he said the new tire was $74, I asked, “And that is the SALE price?” He assured me it was. I authorized the work, then Mom and I began our walk back to the service center. 

As we walked, we discussed the unexpected events that derailed our afternoon. Often times, in the wake of a seemingly bad situation, we will tell each other, “It could be worse...” and then recount the ways how the situation could actually have BEEN worse.

This day, we were thankful to God that the Sun was out and the weather was mild and relatively warm. We were thankful for José’s help, and the humor of the Dump employees. We were thankful that the nearby service center was open and could take our vehicle in quickly. I was thankful the tires were on sale. I am thankful for being employed again, and able to pay for unexpected and necessary repairs. I am thankful my Dad taught me the proper way to change a tire, it helped me keep my focus immediately on what needed to be done.  

Sometimes, it may take a little effort, but the right attitude can help keep a bad situation from getting worse. I don’t enjoy going to the Dump on the best of days, but this particularly inconvenient and aggravating trip became a memorable opportunity to count my blessings. 

The 2004 Office Olympics

The "Eternal Flame" in the "Olympic Stadium."

With the 2014 Winter Olympics in full swing, I’m fondly reminded of my own Olympic experience ten years earlier as a participant in the “Office Olympics”.

Just after I started work as Art Director for a national magazine at a company that boasted 500+ employees, the company “Activities Committee” announced registration for the first “Office Olympics.” Not knowing too many people other than my immediate staff, I decided to sign up for the week-long event as a way to meet more people within the company.

“Athletes” who signed up to participate were randomly placed on one of five teams: Blue, Green, Purple, Red and Yellow. This method of team building allowed employees from different departments to meet staff members they might not have the had opportunity to work with otherwise. Rather than pitting the Marketing staff against Maintenance, or an all-male team against an all-female team, there was an even balance of participants across all teams.

Kidding around and laughing during the week, one of the men on my team seemed like “just one of the guys.” It wasn’t until after the final medals ceremony, that someone pointed out this guy was the VP of Accounting. I was mortified! Ack! He saw the “silly side” of me.  I cringed as I remembered playfully telling him to “shUH-uUHp!”

My first inclination was to apologize to him for my familiarity toward him. But then, I realized that he was just a regular person like me. His equal treatment of everyone increased my respect for him, as both a person and executive. It made me happy to have landed at a company where people of such caliber were hired. 

Opening Ceremony

Events were held during the lunch hour every day for one week. The opening ceremonies were marked with all the pageantry of the “real” Olympics. Including the arrival of the “Olympic Torch” carried in by the company president, who, like me, was just newly hired.

Dressed in a t-shirt, knee-high tube socks, jogging shorts and running shoes, the “torch bearer” ran into the “Olympic Stadium”­—also known as the cafeteria—and to the delight of the crowd gathered there, made one complete lap around the room. Cheers resonated through the office halls as she “lit” the “Olympic Flame” in the center of the atrium declaring that the games were officially open. I loved walking through the cafeteria during the week and seeing the “Eternal Flame”, a silent tribute to teamwork and camaraderie.

On that first day, introductions were made, teams were announced and rules were read. The teams were given time to relegate events to each member and to discuss possible strategies.

Scheduled activities included: The Floppy Disk Throw, Recycled Paper Regatta, Accounting/Warehouse/Shipping Triathlon, World Travel Race, and the Maintenance/Test Kitchen Relay. The results of each event were recorded on an official score board posted in the center of the “Olympic Stadium.”

Green, Red and Purple teams cheer for their teammates.

First Day of Competition 

Held outdoors and in the grassy area beyond the back parking lot, the Floppy Disk throw required two members from each team to throw a computer floppy disk further than their competitors. The greater throw between the two teammates would be recorded as the official result for their team. Some variables came into play making this event harder than it sounded. Gusts of wind could alter the flight path of the lightweight disk. Not to mention that square floppies are not aerodynamically designed. 

Heading back inside, contestants gathered for the Around-the-World Traveler Relay which represented the sister-company’s travel business. The objective was for each team to dress one teammate as a tourist. At one of the “Olympic Stadium”, stood one team member on a box. At the sound of the starting whistle, team members ran one-by-one to their teammate on the box and dressed them with travel accessories such as camera bags, hats and sunglasses, rain coats, Hawaiian leis and other things. The team to completely dress their teammate in the least amount of time would win the event.

The Olympic Spirit was every where. 11” x 17” posters promoting one team or another began popping up on bulletin boards in break rooms and inside restroom stalls. All over the building, friendly competition was in abundance. Energized with team spirit after that first day of competition, I made red pennant flags on sticks to support my team: “The Big Red Machine.” I made sure that I had something red to wear every day. I even dug my old high school cheerleader shoes and mega-phone from the back of my closet.

Although I was not the captain of our team, I sent emails to my team members with mini-pep talks. Every morning I reminded them what event was scheduled that day and encouraged those not participating that day to attend and cheer for their teammates. At the end of the day, our team captain would email everyone, with a summary of the day’s event, and reporting our team’s progress. The emailed messages encouraged friendly banter among us and helped build unity in our team even though we worked in different parts of the building. 

Second Day of Competition

The Recycled Paper Regatta was a timed two-man event. The first person folded an origami boat out of recycled office paper. The second person placed the boat in a designated rain-gutter filled with water and propelled the craft from one end to the other, without touching it. In preparation for the event, teams were allowed to practice folding the boats.

While most teams propelled their paper boat with “lung-power”, one team came prepared with a battery-operated hand-held personal fan. There was no rule against this, and as long as a player did not touch the boat with his or her hands, it was fair. It was “out of the box” thinking at its best.

The Regatta played out rather quickly as the fan-propelled boat came in first. There was excited buzz about the close race for second and third place as the spectators and teams began to disperse.

Then I noticed that the first member for the Yellow team was still struggling to fold a boat. I stood on a chair above the crowd and started chanting, “Yell-ow. Yell-ow.” 

Loud and Proud: The Big Red Machine

Thinking that Human Resources would not take too kindly to me standing on the furniture in the workplace, I looked around the cafeteria. Instead of disapproving glances from HR personnel, I saw other the team’s members begin to realize that the event was not yet over. One by one, the others began to gather again, and join in: “Yell-ow! Yell-ow!”

Finally the “Yellow” boat was built and placed in the water. “Yell-ow!! Yell-ow!!” Huffing and puffing, the Yellow team member blew the boat inch by inch down the gutter. Diners in the cafeteria were startled with wonder when the room erupted in a loud roar of cheers as the little “Yellow” boat reached the finish line. That was the beginning of real competitive spirit.


The Spirit Stick

At the end of each day, one team earned the right to display the “Spirit Stick”. A simple broom-stick handle decorated with brightly colored streamers, the “Spirit Stick” was awarded to the team that demonstrated the most team spirit. Although our team began the cheer for “Team Yellow”, we were not awarded the “Stick” that afternoon. At that point, my “Red” teammates made it their goal to win that “Spirit Stick”. It was a goal that was achieved on the third day of the games. I was honored by my teammates when they declared that the “Stick” should be displayed in my cubicle.

The basic concept of the Office Olympic games was to reflect the strengths and specialties of the employees. At that time, our company flourished as a full-function facility, housing everything from a national call-center, and catalog warehouse fulfillment and distribution center, to marketing and publication production, all under one roof.

The Accounting/Warehouse/Distribution Triathlon represented those departments by first requiring teams to process a customer order for billing,  locate an item for packaging, and then package it for shipping, in the most accurate and fastest time. It was a great way to learn what our coworkers in other departments did forty hours a week. Those who actually worked in those departments were FAST!

Little cakes...my favorite!

Final Day of Competition 

The final event was Maintenance/Test Kitchen Field Event was a timed tag-team event that featured a one-man “Nail and Hammer” event and the frosting and eating of a small cake by a pair of teammates. I was part of that tandem team. After our teammate hammered 6 nails into a board, my partner and I had to dress in a baker’s uniform. Placing my hands behind my back, my teammate slipped her hands forward through my arms. Her hands became my hands, and guided only by my verbal instructions, she had to frost a small cake, and then feed it to me.

Little cakes...mphff ffphvvvrttt!

I like cake. If I could eat cake every day, I would. So I thought quickly eating a small cake should be, well, “a piece of cake.” But it wasn’t as easy as one might think, especially when another person is blindly stuffing it up your nose, and you’re both laughing.

All week, our team was running neck-and-neck for the Gold with another team. I did not win my event, but the points we received helped advance my team. 

The Medals Ceremony  

I had some difficulty sleeping the night before the Medals Ceremony. It was too close to call which team would win the Gold. The next day, at the presentation, every team member received a certificate of participation, and a gift bag. The Fourth and Fifth place winners were acknowledged and cheered. Then Barb Newton, the president of the company, placed a “Bronze Medal” with a ribbon on the neck of each member of the team that came in Third place.

It was down to the Purple Team and the Red Team. When the winner of the “Silver Medal” was announced, a loud cheer rocked the cafeteria. It did not immediately register in my mind that “The Big Red Machine” had won Gold until my teammates began jumping up and down and hugging one another. We waited patiently as the Purple Team received their medals. Then, with a congratulatory handshake, the company president awarded each of my teammates Gold medals.

Spirit Award Recipient draws the first name for the raffle.

The First Place team members also received small figurines depicting various “office gods”. I received a statue of “Deliverus”, the mythological office god of communication who delivers mail, packages, email and instant messages. He is depicted as a mail-toting messenger with winged hat and feet riding the back of an eagle.

Following the Medals Ceremony, a special award was given to the individual participant who most embodied the ideal employee attitude. Roy Reiman, the founder of the company, made the presentation, saying he was proud to award the “Most Spirited Athlete” to an employee who was “a relative newcomer to the company.” My coworkers cheered as he announced my name. He shook my hand and said with a great smile, “Congratulations, you should be especially proud.” Ten years later, when I remember that honor, I still think, ‘Wow!’

Additional raffles and door prizes were handed out to participants and spectators alike. Then the Eternal Flame was extinguished, and the games of the first Office Olympics were closed.

The Champions of the first Office Olympic Games.

The Olympic Spirit

Everyone went back to work but the Olympic spirit lingered for days afterward. The biweekly employee newsletter reported the official results of the Office Olympics. When asked for my thoughts on “team spirit”, I quoted the opening sentence in Rick Warren’s best-selling book, The Purpose Driven Life: “It’s not about you.”

I didn’t win that Gold all by myself. I was part of a team in which each person brought some value and skill to the playing field and was regarded as an equal. Not only did we enjoy our teammates, but we enjoyed the friendly competitiveness of the other teams. For seven years, seven months and seven days, that gold medal hung in my cubicle as a daily reminder that. 

Symbols of Olympic Victory and Spirit.

It was the best week ever! No other company-wide activity has ever come close to the spirit of that event—except the Mardi Gras Fundraiser for the Hurricane Katrina survivors, and that is a topic for another blog.

For all the extra-curricular activities that week, the employee production level did not wane. No one seemed to mind putting in a few extra hours for the sake of team-building. Many lasting friendships were forged over the course of the competition. And valuable lessons were learned by everyone. I continue to apply three basic principles from the Office Olympics to my career: Be Productive. Nurture your Network. Enjoy the Moment.


Those principles can be applied to everyday life, too, and that is a truth that is as good as gold.



Inspired by the 2014 Winter Olympic Games in Sochi, Russia.

Posters on the Door

"Smoochies" indicates wins.

Every time I descend from my upstairs room, my eyes focus on a poster on the door at the bottom of the stairs. It is a poster of the Green Bay Packers Quarterback, Aaron Rodgers. It remains on display throughout the year, not just during football season, and it has a tendency to make me smile. It was a very thoughtful Mother’s Day gift from my Godson--and youngest nephew--in 2011. Sure, it makes me smile because Aaron Rodgers is a major “hottie”, but that is a given.

Today, as I gazed upon the athletic image of Rodgers, I reflected on how I’ve always had a poster or two on my bedroom and closet doors. Like Mr. Peabody and Sherman and their “Way Back Machine”, I was transported to my formative years as I began to recall all the celebrities and icons who graced my personal “Wall of Fame.” 

Aaayyy! Sit on it, ya nerd!

The first poster ever taped to my bedroom door was an image of “The Fonz.” Played by Henry Winkler, “Fonzie” was the “cool” character in the popular television series “Happy Days.” I remember how excited I was when my parents allowed me to buy the 36” x 48” poster for only $1.00! I can still feel that tightly rolled paper, slipped into a narrow sleeve of plastic in my hot little hands. My heart beat fast. My face may have blushed slightly because, up until that point, I’d only had crushes on boys in my grade school class. Now, I had a near-life-sized picture of a MAN...in my ROOM! Oh, my goodness! I felt so grown up. I don’t recall how long “The Fonz” remained on the door, but it was up there was long enough for the edges of the poster to turn yellow and brittle. 

Just a Hunk-a Hunk-a Burnin' Love!

The next big poster to be adorn the door, was Elvis Presley. The huge picture depicted the “King of Rock and Roll” wearing the American Eagle Jumpsuit from his “Aloha From Hawaii” concert. I remember seeing the concert “Live Via Satellite” as a girl. It was a huge media event because it was the first global broadcast of its kind. I still get chills thinking about the significance of that technological event. Eh... okay... Elvis was easy to look at too!

Of course, not all the posters on my door were of “heart throbs” and “hotties”. There were smaller posters of the Star Wars/Luke Skywalker variety and postcard replicas of classic movie posters. One of my favorite full-sized posters--which I believe replaced “The Fonz”--was a replica of the theater poster for the Humphrey Bogart movie “Casablanca.” That was the first Bogart movie I had ever seen, and I was just mesmerized by the actor. With the advent of VHS players and cable television, I was able to see more of “Bogie’s” movies. 

The start of a beautiful friendship.

I found a Bogart biography at the neighborhood library (this was before the Internet, personal PCs and Google) which indexed of all his movie titles, including cameo appearances. I made a photocopy of that list (yes, Xerox copy machines were available at that time), and taped it to the inside of my closet door. I would check off each movie as I saw it.  

A poster that did not depict a celebrity or movie had a simple typographic design, featuring a rainbow of colored text on a strong black background. The text consisted of the various names by which the Christian faithful call God, with small annotations by each name referencing where in the Holy Scriptures the name can be found. In the midst of the color letters, are two words in white, “I Am.” 

A Still Small Voice.

Over the years, I have seen this text concepted with a variety of imagery, but I really like this rendition of the poster the best. Somehow, it makes a powerful statement in a quiet way. I still have it, although now it is rolled and preserved in a tube. Because it was on display throughout my college years, I no longer need to see it to still appreciate it. The Words and their impact are indelible within my heart and memory.

Coincidentally, at the exact same time God’s poster was hanging proudly in my room, a Billy Idol poster was displayed directly across from it. The image had more of a “Sears Portrait Studio” vibe than a “hard-rocking” stage image. It was something that my Dad did not disapprove of, and it was still hormonally activating for me. So, yeah... win-win!

Billy Idol is still Hot in the City!

 My affinity for the door poster was not limited to my home life. As a creative professional, I am often inspired by the photography and design of others, both contemporary and historically. At every company I have ever been employed, my work space, office or cubicle has always been adorned with posters of one kind or another. Posters provide a variety of color palettes, typography and photography that stimulates creativity. The planning and directing of a photo shoot with a 1960s theme inspired me to recreate a Peter Max-type of poster for the background. Talk about putting oneself into one’s work! That poster has since become one of my favorite self-portraits. 

Self-portrait inspired by Peter Max poster.

This fun, childhood inclination is a reminder to me of who I was. In many ways, it also continues to influence who I am as a creative professional and as a person. It is very likely that I will always have and be inspired by posters on the door.