Oh God... Why do people like you try to write..
> From: david west <[log in to unmask]>
> Reply-To: Guaranteeing the preservation of heart and myth
> <[log in to unmask]>
> Date: Sun, 7 Jul 2002 08:48:09 +1000
> To: [log in to unmask]
> Subject: one day down under
>
> The slight bulge on the surface draws the chisel. Tap
> of the mallet, and the sandstone explodes into
> fragments, raining down onto the pavement below. As
> the sun rises on this winter Saturday, the wind off
> the mountains chills the fingers gripping the edge of
> the cherrypicker bucket. "Left", my colleague shouts,
> and we lurch perilously closer to the facade.
> Scanning the surfaces of this decaying Skyscraper
> Gothic edifice, we look for evidence of loose pieces
> of stone.
>
> I used to enjoy makesafe inspections. Something to do
> with seeing the raw freshness of decay exposed; or the
> revelation of processes. But now I've done enough to
> be able to see the decay without opening up. And it
> just saddens me to see the weeping sores appear on the
> flanks of the building. Especially on this building,
> for I've been doing makesafe inspections here for
> seven years, and each year the symptoms spread. Some
> preventive measures five years ago would have made so
> much difference, but the money was never spent. And
> now there is that invidious downwards spiral in action
> ... too much money required to pull together the
> life-saving refurbishment and redevelopment; but not
> enough money available to do any preventive work; and
> so the deterioration gathers pace, so that next year
> even more money will be required.
>
> Meanwhile, my stonemason colleague has been tooling
> off the thin scale - these days, it is water
> penetration from leaking downpipes that is driving
> most of the decay. Sand and tiny flakes of sandstone
> shower us from time to time, as a stone that appears
> intact disintegrates with the first tap of the chisel.
>
> Below us, the city is stirring slowly to life.
> Pedestrians pick their way around our barriers,
> cursing at the inconvenience (little do they realise
> how inconvenient it would be if we failed to remove a
> piece of stone that fell to the pavement as they
> passed). The time passes with the roar of the
> cherrypicker's diesel, and we brush through the trees
> back to the pavement.
>
> Brief the young engineer who's going to do the rest of
> this makesafe with the stonemason, and off I head
> across the city to another site. Same age buildings,
> similar stone. Better condition, and yet just as sad.
> For though the tradesmen seem to be trying hard, they
> don't have the experience to deal with the issues, and
> again, the owner doesn't want to spend the money he
> needs to.
>
> The wind buffets the swinging stage as we haul
> ourselves along the monorail into position. At least
> we're in the sun. And in the park behind us, a
> saxophonist breaks into soaring jazz riffs. We're
> inspecting windows this morning. Revising the scope
> of works, so that we only do the most essential tasks
> (and the cheapest). Put the building into a holding
> pattern, and we'll worry about it again some other
> time.
>
> We work our way along the facade, finding panes of
> broken glass here, and areas of decayed timber there.
> Concern from the foreman when we find that the infill
> panels above the curved windows are fibro (asbestos
> cement sheet). We'll need to change the work method
> to manage that risk.
>
> And then its time to change to another swinging stage.
> Around the corner, and onto the next one. Picking
> our way past open windows, we go to ascend, and the
> stage won't move. Emergency stop button tripped.
> Where's the key? Here. It won't go in. Let me try.
> Oh shit. I've got another one. Try that. Doesn't
> work either. What the fuck is going on? Maybe
> there's part of a broken key stuck inside. Yeah,
> could be.
>
> Sit in the wind for a few minutes. Saxophonist is
> still serenading us, unknowing how comforting the
> sound is to us. Ponder whether to begin the long wind
> down on the safety brakes. Then the foreman has an
> idea. Radios a colleague to look for a broken swinging
> stage key in the office. Five minutes later -
> success. Broken key found. Next challenge, will this
> work? Passed out through the window, fingers fumbling
> with too much haste. The key turns, stop button
> releases. Away we go.
>
> Phone rings. "They've shut us down". City's rangers
> have told the boys on the makesafe inspection to stop
> work. Something to do with footpath permits I'm told.
> "Hang on", I say. I'm on my way.
>
> Run across town. Still wearing my harness and hard
> hat. No wonder families look at me strangely. Cherry
> picker is packed up, pavement swept. I curse. We
> can't afford to come back another day. What happened,
> I demand to know. Listen to conflicting explanations.
> Look for numbers to call. Nobody thought to get the
> ranger's name or number. Why can't people think?
>
> Jump into my car, scream off over the bridge back to
> the office. Where will I find permit conditions?
> Onto the internet, check the City's website. Out of
> desperation, call the office (who works in the City
> office on a Saturday afternoon). Somebody answers.
> Disbelief. Miracle. Its somebody who can make
> decisions. We discuss it. He tells me to go back to
> work. I turn round, head back. Another phone call.
> Maybe not. Problem is pedestrian safety. We discuss.
> I make promises (there goes my afternoon). Back to
> site. This is the way it is going to be. The traffic
> control guy has found some more staff. We reorganise,
> the cherry picker repositions. Away we go. I watch,
> eagle-eyed. Keep those pedestrians away.
>
> Shut-down time looms. The boys are racing the clock
> now. Trying to cover the last few bays of the facade.
> Cherrypicker driver threatens to bring them down,
> they plead for one more minute - we all know they want
> ten. Eventually its all over. Down they come. Now I
> get to sign away my life for another six months.
>
> Thank the team for their efforts. No time for a beer
> - they all have other jobs to go to. Such is the pace
> of working in the city on a weekend.
>
> ------------------------------------
>
> cheers
> david
>
> http://www.sold.com.au - SOLD.com.au
> - Find yourself a bargain!
>
> --
> To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the
> uncoffee-ed, or to change your settings, go to:
> <http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/bullamanka-pinheads.html>
--
To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the
uncoffee-ed, or to change your settings, go to:
<http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/bullamanka-pinheads.html>
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