I decided last Friday would be my last day of work, leaving me a week before school starts to get ready (and goof off a little bit).
For a time, I got to be part of the world's massive goods delivery infrastructure, an infrastructure utilizing every means of transportation—cars, tractor-trailers, trains, boats, and airplanes—and made up of national mail carriers like the U.S. Postal System, private carriers like UPS and FedEx (not to mention airlines who transport U.S. mail with their spare cargo capacity), innumerable trucking companies, and many small couriers like the one I worked for, each one filling in gaps in the others' service.
In truth, though, I'm happy to be done with this job. Aside from needing a vehicle and a driver's license, and some basic manners, this is completely unskilled labor; the only reason they need a human for it is because we don't yet have cars that can drive themselves. The work is boring, once you realize that 95% of it will be spent on the road. The pay is unimpressive; you would have to work 10-hour days regularly to make any significant money with this job. And whatever money you do make, a good chunk of it goes right back out to pay for all the gas you burn doing the job, not to mention a scheduled oil change every two or three weeks.
This was an okay way to pass the time during the summer, and keep me able to pay the bills—barely—but I won't miss it.
I was hoping it would be an interesting job to blog about, but in the end, most days were completely routine, especially after they assigned me to a couple of regular deliveries. The same stops on the same route, day after day. The only things that changed were the amount of mail I was given, and the traffic. After I talked a bit about how I go about doing my job, and the tools I use for it, I simply ran out of things to talk about. That should give you an idea of how completely routine and uninteresting this work it.
So, it's been fun—sort of—but this is the end.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Mississippi
On my last day of work, I got an out-of-state rush delivery to Mississippi.
(I nearly got one earlier in the week, to Washington, D.C., but we're pretty sure that when the customer found out that it would be $930, they changed their mind about needing their item there by exactly 9 a.m. the next day.)
Honestly, doing a 400-mile drive and back by yourself really isn't much to write about. The route was I-20 to Tuscaloosa, then US-82 to I-55, and then a little ways to the delivery point. Then turn around and come back home.
US-82 is nicer than most of the US Highways I've been on. There aren't many lights or stops, and a long chunk of it in Mississippi is built to freeway standards, with controlled access. It made for a very uninteresting drive.
(I nearly got one earlier in the week, to Washington, D.C., but we're pretty sure that when the customer found out that it would be $930, they changed their mind about needing their item there by exactly 9 a.m. the next day.)
Honestly, doing a 400-mile drive and back by yourself really isn't much to write about. The route was I-20 to Tuscaloosa, then US-82 to I-55, and then a little ways to the delivery point. Then turn around and come back home.
US-82 is nicer than most of the US Highways I've been on. There aren't many lights or stops, and a long chunk of it in Mississippi is built to freeway standards, with controlled access. It made for a very uninteresting drive.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Breaker breaker charlie november
One thing I notice is that when I talk on the radio, I pick up a noticeable Southern accent. This is probably the result of watching too many movies featuring stereotypical truckers.
That said, I bet it's linguistically useful. The long, drawn-out vowels of Southern speech probably do a lot to aid listening comprehension over staticky channels.
Well, they would, except this is a digital radio, so the sound either gets there intact, or doesn't get there at all. Still, the sound quality is not great, and when I'm driving down the highway with the wind blowing and the tires running along the pavement, a little boost to my ability to hear things doesn't hurt.
That said, I bet it's linguistically useful. The long, drawn-out vowels of Southern speech probably do a lot to aid listening comprehension over staticky channels.
Well, they would, except this is a digital radio, so the sound either gets there intact, or doesn't get there at all. Still, the sound quality is not great, and when I'm driving down the highway with the wind blowing and the tires running along the pavement, a little boost to my ability to hear things doesn't hurt.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Failure to communicate
Appropriately, the day after I wrote about the usefulness of our radios, the server for all the job information went on the fritz for most of the day, crippling our dispatchers.
During the day, we have three to four dispatchers, some for cars and trucks, some for tractor-trailers. They have to figure out which drivers to give which jobs so that all the jobs get done, all the drivers stay busy, and nobody has to drive around a lot with an empty vehicle.
Of course, doing this successfully is totally dependent on the jobs we have that day, which is really just random. Airline dispatchers have a much easier time, since their flights are scheduled months in advance. Our dispatchers rely a bit more on luck. Sometimes they'll ask me to make my way towards a certain part of town, because they know from experience where most of our jobs originate. Although usually the cause is that I just completed a delivery in some out-of-the-way location.
I'm not sure what the dispatchers did while the server was acting up; when I stopped in the office, they had access to the jobs, but couldn't edit them to mark them as picked up or delivered. They printed them out on paper so I had all the information.
During the day, we have three to four dispatchers, some for cars and trucks, some for tractor-trailers. They have to figure out which drivers to give which jobs so that all the jobs get done, all the drivers stay busy, and nobody has to drive around a lot with an empty vehicle.
Of course, doing this successfully is totally dependent on the jobs we have that day, which is really just random. Airline dispatchers have a much easier time, since their flights are scheduled months in advance. Our dispatchers rely a bit more on luck. Sometimes they'll ask me to make my way towards a certain part of town, because they know from experience where most of our jobs originate. Although usually the cause is that I just completed a delivery in some out-of-the-way location.
I'm not sure what the dispatchers did while the server was acting up; when I stopped in the office, they had access to the jobs, but couldn't edit them to mark them as picked up or delivered. They printed them out on paper so I had all the information.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Walkie-talkie-drivie
My second lifeline as a courier is my radio/phone, which I use to talk to Dispatch, and to get details and update status on jobs.
The one we use is a Motorola Nextel radio, which is large and heavy, looks like it may cost a good bit, and has lots of buttons (a couple of which I'm afraid to press because it's not clear what they do).
Nextel is the technology Motorola bought for cellular push-to-talk technology. Push-to-talk (PTT) is what most people think of as a traditional walkie-talkie—when you want to talk, you push the button, and you let go when you're done so you can listen. It's a very simple and very effective way to handle one-way (a.k.a. half-duplex, if you're a nerd) communication.
The Nextel version is cellular, meaning the range limit is "you must have cell reception" instead of "you must be within 5 miles of the other walkie-talkie or repeater". It's also directed; you get a phone number just for PTT, which has stars instead of dashes in the number. To use it, you choose a contact in your phonebook, then, y'know… push to talk.
My one complaint is that while it's great 90% of the time to not have to listen to everyone else's conversations with the dispatchers, sometimes it would be useful, like if someone is reporting a traffic jam we should all avoid. I suppose it's a fair trade, though: I get to drive in relative peace and quiet.
The other part of the phone we use a lot is called "Net Alerts". I'm honestly not sure what technology it is behind the scenes, although I'm pretty sure it's HTTP or something similar. (Oops, my computer science background is showing.) With this I can use a menu system to update jobs; I can accept (or reject) a job, let my dispatcher know when I've completed pick-up or delivery, and enter the name of the person who signed for receipt of the item.
The job comes to me with all the information I need: job number and type; pick-up name/address; delivery name/address; contacts and phone numbers for both; notes on paperwork that the job requires, if any; etc. I copy most of the info on to my paper clipboard, which is much easier to look at while I'm driving, but I do occasionally come back to it for reference.
When I enter the name of the signee, I use multi-tap… the old system where you press 2 once for 'A', twice for 'B', thrice for 'C'. I haven't used multi-tap in about 10 years—come to think of it, did I ever own a phone that didn't support T9?—but I picked it up like I had never stopped.
Motorola's implementation of multi-tap confuses me a bit. Backspace is on * instead of a dedicated "backspace" or "clear" key. I can't figure out how to capitalize letters. Fortunately I don't really care, but it bothers me that I can't figure it out; I don't think I'm strange for wanting to spell people's names using both uppercase and lowercase letters.
The one we use is a Motorola Nextel radio, which is large and heavy, looks like it may cost a good bit, and has lots of buttons (a couple of which I'm afraid to press because it's not clear what they do).
Nextel is the technology Motorola bought for cellular push-to-talk technology. Push-to-talk (PTT) is what most people think of as a traditional walkie-talkie—when you want to talk, you push the button, and you let go when you're done so you can listen. It's a very simple and very effective way to handle one-way (a.k.a. half-duplex, if you're a nerd) communication.
The Nextel version is cellular, meaning the range limit is "you must have cell reception" instead of "you must be within 5 miles of the other walkie-talkie or repeater". It's also directed; you get a phone number just for PTT, which has stars instead of dashes in the number. To use it, you choose a contact in your phonebook, then, y'know… push to talk.
My one complaint is that while it's great 90% of the time to not have to listen to everyone else's conversations with the dispatchers, sometimes it would be useful, like if someone is reporting a traffic jam we should all avoid. I suppose it's a fair trade, though: I get to drive in relative peace and quiet.
The other part of the phone we use a lot is called "Net Alerts". I'm honestly not sure what technology it is behind the scenes, although I'm pretty sure it's HTTP or something similar. (Oops, my computer science background is showing.) With this I can use a menu system to update jobs; I can accept (or reject) a job, let my dispatcher know when I've completed pick-up or delivery, and enter the name of the person who signed for receipt of the item.
The job comes to me with all the information I need: job number and type; pick-up name/address; delivery name/address; contacts and phone numbers for both; notes on paperwork that the job requires, if any; etc. I copy most of the info on to my paper clipboard, which is much easier to look at while I'm driving, but I do occasionally come back to it for reference.
When I enter the name of the signee, I use multi-tap… the old system where you press 2 once for 'A', twice for 'B', thrice for 'C'. I haven't used multi-tap in about 10 years—come to think of it, did I ever own a phone that didn't support T9?—but I picked it up like I had never stopped.
Motorola's implementation of multi-tap confuses me a bit. Backspace is on * instead of a dedicated "backspace" or "clear" key. I can't figure out how to capitalize letters. Fortunately I don't really care, but it bothers me that I can't figure it out; I don't think I'm strange for wanting to spell people's names using both uppercase and lowercase letters.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Suspicion
Driving down a surface street, I passed a cop who was pulling out of a shopping center. As I watched in my rear-view mirror, he pulled up behind me and followed me for a mile or two. I could tell he was checking up on me; he was entering data into his computer and talking on the radio, all while keeping a close eye on me.
I'm not sure what got his attention. Was it my damaged hood and front bumper, the cosmetic remains of a low-speed highway fender-bender over two years ago? Was it the company signs with a DOT number on my doors? It couldn't have been the out-of-state license plate, which he wouldn't have seen until he was directly behind me. In truth, the license plate is what worries me the most, because I misplaced the annual registration sticker, although I have the correct paperwork (somewhere, still paperclipped to the sticker). Having an out-of-state plate, though, cops tend to not notice that the sticker is the wrong color and a year or two out of date.
Then again, maybe it was the damaged hood. I think it's a law that you have to report all accidents, no matter how minor, although in practice this is not followed and is largely unenforced (and arguably unenforcable). Not that he would know from looking at my car whether I had reported the accident. (Like I said, unenforcable.)
I made sure to stick to the speed limit religiously while keeping a keen eye on the officer in my rear-view mirror. He talked on the radio, then got on his cellphone for a while, then went back to the radio. Eventually, he looked disappointed, and when I turned in to a parking lot he kept going past me. I guess he was hoping to bust me for something, and felt put out when everything checked out okay.
I'm not sure what got his attention. Was it my damaged hood and front bumper, the cosmetic remains of a low-speed highway fender-bender over two years ago? Was it the company signs with a DOT number on my doors? It couldn't have been the out-of-state license plate, which he wouldn't have seen until he was directly behind me. In truth, the license plate is what worries me the most, because I misplaced the annual registration sticker, although I have the correct paperwork (somewhere, still paperclipped to the sticker). Having an out-of-state plate, though, cops tend to not notice that the sticker is the wrong color and a year or two out of date.
Then again, maybe it was the damaged hood. I think it's a law that you have to report all accidents, no matter how minor, although in practice this is not followed and is largely unenforced (and arguably unenforcable). Not that he would know from looking at my car whether I had reported the accident. (Like I said, unenforcable.)
I made sure to stick to the speed limit religiously while keeping a keen eye on the officer in my rear-view mirror. He talked on the radio, then got on his cellphone for a while, then went back to the radio. Eventually, he looked disappointed, and when I turned in to a parking lot he kept going past me. I guess he was hoping to bust me for something, and felt put out when everything checked out okay.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Roads
The city planners in this wonderful city have really done a number on street names. (Although it's not as bad as Japan.) Here they have a penchant for creating many streets with similar names, all right next to each other. There might be Sesame Boulevard, Sesame Parkway, Sesame Road, Sesame Drive, Sesame Circle, Sesame Court, all close to each other… and only one of these is the correct one.
They'll also sometimes prefix it with a cardinal direction. That's not difficult to mess up, because people usually put it in the address.
However, almost all the roads here are suffixed with an intermediate cardinal direction (that is, NE, NW, SW, or SE). I assume this indicates what quadrant of the city the road is in, but it's not clear where the division lies from the suffixes I've seen.
Almost nobody includes the suffix when giving their address, so I usually have to guess in the satnav which one is the correct one. That might not be so bad, except that sometimes the same building number is valid on more than one of the roads (for instance, 287 Yeti St NW and 287 Yeti St NE). That's usually when the iPhone comes out for some sanity checking.
The end result is that I have to be very careful when looking at addresses, because I never know which parts of it will be vitally important. Just the other day I copied down "Parkway" instead of "Boulevard" and turned a 2-minute drive into a 10-minute goose chase.
They'll also sometimes prefix it with a cardinal direction. That's not difficult to mess up, because people usually put it in the address.
However, almost all the roads here are suffixed with an intermediate cardinal direction (that is, NE, NW, SW, or SE). I assume this indicates what quadrant of the city the road is in, but it's not clear where the division lies from the suffixes I've seen.
Almost nobody includes the suffix when giving their address, so I usually have to guess in the satnav which one is the correct one. That might not be so bad, except that sometimes the same building number is valid on more than one of the roads (for instance, 287 Yeti St NW and 287 Yeti St NE). That's usually when the iPhone comes out for some sanity checking.
The end result is that I have to be very careful when looking at addresses, because I never know which parts of it will be vitally important. Just the other day I copied down "Parkway" instead of "Boulevard" and turned a 2-minute drive into a 10-minute goose chase.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)