January-February 2000

Twisted Rolls, The Bunk House

A few days back I was around some members of the younger generation, and they were playing some very loud music on a big thing with too many speakers. It reminded me of a trip I made out to service a large 89-key organ.

I was told before starting out that the organ just did not sound quite right and they were wanting me to see if I could correct the problem.  After driving 150 miles, I entered the location only to be met by the show electrician who was very upset with the music and informed me the problem was the type music that came with the organ when it was purchased.

We walked up to the organ and he punched the start button only to be greeted with noise which closely resembled what I was hearing at the young people’s location.  The electrician looked at me and said, I never did like the sound of that German music!"

He had the organ book going in upside down and backwards. At this time, I came to the rapid conclusion that he might not be very musically indoctrinated and put the music in correctly and once again started the organ. After hearing it in the correct form, he decided he did like that German music after all.

When I went to the office to collect my fee for the trip, I just told the owner the problem was corrected and never told him what was wrong. The electrician appreciated the way I handled it and saved him many problems with the owner. The next time I came to the same location to service the same organ, I came to the conclusion I might have made the wrong move.

There were no motel rooms within any miles, and the owner told me this same electrician had an extra bunk in his trailer, and I could sleep there for the night.  When retiring for the evening, I found the smallest trailer I have ever seen and there was just enough room for a single bunk on each side of the door.  I think the sheets must have been delivered with the trailer many years before, and only washed two or three times. The rest of the fixtures were about the same.

It reminded me of an old man at the railroad who never washed and there was a rumor around that he had to throw a load of cinders in the bed when the grease got too thick to keep from sliding out onto the floor!  Well, I survived the night but never stayed there again.  He really was quite a good electrician, and I could never have repeated this story while he was still alive.


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