The Shop was Closed

The shop was closed. What was I going to do? I had three robots to make and no more access to a shop. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

A week before, I was sitting in projects. Projects is the two hours a week our school allocates to “enlightening” us about the outside world. I go to Bergen County Academies (BCA) in Hackensack, NJ. This school claims to be “a school without walls”, although I certainly ran into a wall last year when trying to attend the Battlebots IQ competition in Universal Studios. Apparently my GPA was too low. But that is a different story. After House of NERC, I needed to rebuild. For once I wanted good robots. Titanium Squirrel got torn apart. Flail sucked so much it introduced a new word into our vernacular, “flailure.” I stayed up for the whole night after House of NERC designing Titanium Chipmunk. This was going to be my champion. It had all the features of Titanium Squirrel without the wheel problem and with a feeding wedge. I also had two complete antweight cads, Das Boot and Pugwash the Magnificent. I planned to spend that whole Wednesday milling.

Mr. DeFalco entered, his usual chipper self. You know, the himself that says, “I don’t think they’ll be BattleBots next year” Yeah, his usual self. If I had a dollar for every time he said that and didn’t act on it all my robots would have brushless motors and li-po packs. Mr. DeFalco is the engineering teacher at our school. He instituted the BattleBots IQ program, and for that you have to thank him, but sometimes his ways can be very frustrating.

Projects began. As usual Simon walked in two minutes late, and was yelled at for it. Although he wasn’t the last one to arrive. Anthony took up the back of the pack arriving a whole five minutes late. Needless to say, Mr. DeFalco was not pleased. I was surfing the internet at my computer, when MasterEye Vision popped up on my screen. Vision is the schools way of making our computers not fun. It allows teachers to see our screens and lock our computers. Sadly, it was effective and everyone turned toward Mr. DeFalco, since he was the next most exciting thing now that our computers were gone.

“The shop is now closed” Looks of horror swept across the room. Actually this really only affected four people, Ray, Simon, Vadim, and me. Our school is outfitted with a Bridgeport Torq-Cut Mill. It is perfect for making all our robots on. We also have a CNC lathe, but no one knows how to use it, so it has sat there, idle, for the whole 3 years I have been at BCA. I relied on this mill for everything. In our time at BCA we became quite proficient at Featurecam and Inventor and needed that mill to be at our disposal to actually make our parts. Mr. DeFalco went into a long boring explanation of why the shop was closed, something about maximizing shop usage time. Suffice it to say the explanation was full of crap, and it wasted a full hour of projects. We also would have to sign up for after school open lab; we used to just be able to waltz in there at our leisure and chill. He had a big sign on the shop door written in like 100 pt font saying “The Shop is Closed –Mr. DeFalco”

No one was satisfied with these new policies. In fact one could say we were rather angry. Over the next week, it became known as the DeFalco problem, and like all problems this one needed to be solved. We began talking about ways to beat him. I think I was the angriest because I like fighting with people. It is a fulfilling challenge and in the end you get to win. I like to win.

Unfortunately we didn’t have much leverage. I mean what could we say to make, or force Mr. DeFalco to change his mind? I decided that scoping out the situation would help us conquer this.

The next Tuesday (projects are on Wednesdays), I resorted to rationally talking to Mr. DeFalco about the policy. I walked in during my free time to ask if I could use the mill. The conversation went something like this.

Me: Mr. Defalco

Him: Yes

Me: Would it be possible to mill some parts for my antweight?

Him: Well not during school.

Me: Why not? (I said this without being angry)

Him: Well the shop is closed

Me: Yes, but it is very hard for us to finish our robots with no access to the shop

Him: Yes but the shop is closed

Me: Then could you explain your reasoning behind the new policy

Him: I’m burnt out

Me: But I could just work in the shop. You don’t have to help me.

Him: Yes, but the shop is closed

Me: Why is the shop closed?

Him: Because the sign says so

Me: But that isn’t why

Him: It is closed because the sign says so.

Me: But you put the sign up

Him: The shop is closed

Does he think I don’t remember that the shop is closed. And what kind of logic is “Because the sign says so” It’s like if the president put a sign outside the White House that said “We’re stealing Iraq’s oil” and then when people ask the president why he says because the sign says so. Can I put up a sign saying the shop is open? Whose sign is law? Who gave signs any authority?

Well that was a flailure. I realized I wasn’t getting anywhere by questioning him. I could have questioned the sign and got a response that was about as intelligent. So Mr. DeFalco wasn’t listening to reason and we didn’t have any means of coercing him. I was screwed.

That Wednesdays projects failed. No one really did any work. I remember something along the lines of two hours of Heli Attack 3 mixed with the game where you can win the Sharpie mini. (Where is my Sharpie Mini by the way?) Even during the time allocated for BattleBots I couldn’t get in the shop. Something had to be done. I couldn’t go on living like this. I needed a mill.

Thursday morning I trod into school. I don’t know why they make school so early; if it were later I wouldn’t be as tired and I would be more alert for class. I think that is what the school would want. Sometimes I just don’t understand the school’s logic. Actually that Thursday morning I didn’t have class. The trimester just ended and Physiological Control Systems was over, so I had a block of free then.

After IGS, I headed to Mr. DeFalco’s lab. Although he wouldn’t let us use the shop the school forced him to keep the computer lab open for everyone, even people like me. I sat in the far reaches of the lab in order to not be approached by him. The computer lab is divided into two sections, one for slackers, and one for good students. The slackers area is out of Mr. DeFalco’s LOS(line of sight). I logged on, went to dig, and checked my e-mail. Crap on digg and spam on email. Today was going to be a crappy day. Then Vadim entered the lab. He said, “George, I just got the best idea.”

“What?”

“You should buy a mill”

He was talking to the right person. I like to do crazy things like that for no apparent reason. Also I had some money. I repair and build computers for people around my town and the business is almost all profit, so I had a couple thousand dollars to blow.

Actually this isn’t the first time I’d thought of this. Last summer, I’d actually bought a mill, although the mill I bought was kind of a joke. I bought a HF47158 mini mill. The thing was a piece of crap. I spent hours trying to attach stepper motors to the axes before I realized I was wasting my time and money.

“I already bought a mill”

To this Vadim replied, “No, a real mill, not that piece of shit one you have.”

This made me mad. Not only did he insult my mill, but he also reminded me how pissed I was at DeFalco. And everyone who knows me knows that if you piss me off, I will make stupid decisions. “Fine, how much”

We started looking on ebay. $12,000 Bridgeport with Fanuc 40 control. I wish I had twelve thousand dollars. $1600 Sieg mini mill, Not another crappy mini mill. I sifted through dozens of auctions until one caught my eye. “HES VERTICAL CNC MILL, ALL EQUIPMENT MUST GO” $750 Buy-it-now. Wow, $750. I knew it couldn’t be true. This mill had to be uber crappy. The auction gave a very limited description, but it did include a phone number with the words “Please contact Ted or Tony.”

I had to see what was up. I programmed to number into my cell phone, and filed it under CNC. Cell phones weren’t allowed to be used in school, so I needed to go into the bathroom. I stashed the cell phone in my pocket and filed out of the lab. I went into the bathroom, and headed for the wheelchair stall. I like my pacing room while I talk.

“Yes is Ted or Tony there, I’m called in regards to a CNC mill auction on ebay”

The lady replied, “Please wait a moment”

Ted came on the other line. We talked for about ten minutes, I rattled off all kinds of questions about the mill. It must have been a funny sight for anyone who walked into the bathroom and heard me talking, apparently to no one, about a CNC mill, which most of our school had never heard of. The mill sounded too good to be true. It was cheap, it was 3 axis, and it was CNC. Before I hung up, I asked one last question, “How much does it weigh.” He replied, “about 1500 pounds.” Only later did the logistics of moving a 1500 pound object hit me.

I ran back into the lab. Vadim asked, “So what did he say?”

“I’m buying it”

I clicked buy-it-now, and typed in my username and password. I was now the proud owner of a CNC mill.

Over the next few days, I started thinking about how to actually get this thing back to my house. The mill guy, Ted Marena, was located in Connecticut. I had a very limited knowledge of geography, but I was pretty sure Connecticut was nearby. I went there once for House of Gilleski, and that wasn’t a long drive, so the mill has to be nearby. We planned our excursion. My dad offered to drive me up there and pick the mill up. We owned a Chrysler Voyager minivan, So transporting it wouldn’t be a problem. I was sure the minivan could take the weight. My logic was this. The minivan can carry 7 people right. Well if it can carry seven people then it can carry 7 fat people. And if it could carry seven fat people it could carry 2 huge people, 5 fat people and luggage. I decided to use some math. 2*H+5*F+L=Carrying Capacity H=300 F=200 L=200. Therefore carrying capacity=300*2+200*5+200=1800. Assuming my dad and I weigh 300 lbs, 1500 is left over for the mill. No Problem.

Our excursion was planned for Saturday. I woke up around ninish Saturday morning and finally decided to actually call Marena industries to try to pick up the mill. I don’t think too much when I make plans, and I forgot that the rest of the world is closed on Sunday. I finally got through to someone just to be told that I couldn’t pick it up. Damnit. I told my dad what I had learned, and that they are open weekdays after school. We planned on next Monday.

Well next Monday came around and once again my tendency to procrastinate came and bit me in the ass. Once again, I hadn’t called Marena to see if I could pick it up. I called from school around 11ish. He was at lunch. I called again at 12. Finally he was there.

Me: “Would it be possible to pick the mill up today?”

Him: “Possibly, let me check”

Me: “Ok”

Him: “Yeah, I think we can bring it to the front of the warehouse. How do you plan to transport this?”

Me: I have a van.

Him: What are the dimensions?

Here is where I run into a problem. I am very impatient. I need to do things today. And I couldn’t tell my dad we couldn’t pick it up again, he was already leaving from school early so we would go. I decided to exaggerate the van dimensions a little.

Me: Oh, at least 4 ft wide by 5 ft high by 8 ft back.

Him: Well that might fit. Are you sure you just don’t want me to put it on common carrier?

Me: No that’s okay; we’ll come pick it up.

Afterward we sorted out the details, like paying for it and what time to come. He said come before 5:30. This shouldn’t be a problem considering my dad and I were leaving at 2:10, and it takes about two and a half hours to get there.

For the rest of the day, I couldn’t concentrate. All I was thinking about was getting my new mill. We had a sub in lit, so I spent the whole period talking with Magda about how the mill is much more worth it than a pair of shoes.

Although class seems much longer then usual, 2:10 eventually rolled around and I was finally leaving. My dad was waiting for me in the office. We signed out, and were on our way to Connecticut. I wanted to drive since I had just gotten my permit, but figured since we needed to get there quickly, my dad should drive. He had the whole trek planned out on his laptop in Microsoft Streets and Trips.

According to the program, it would take 2 hours and 18 minutes. But those 2 hours wouldn’t be uneventful. Actually they were pretty uneventful, although it was really fun. So often, I am insanely bored. I really don’t have anything to do with my life. There are very few things I do that challenge me, but getting this mill would one of the greatest challenges of my life. I was euphoric about the thought of this challenge.

We crossed the George Washington Bridge, rode on this ghetto highway, switched a nice highway, passed a few airports, and finally arrived at School St. Marena industries was located at 433 School St. This School Street was a long ass street. It seemed like we were on this street for twenty minutes. The frequent red lights didn’t help the problem much either. But eventually I saw it. On a brick building tacked in the upper left hand corner was a small sign, “Marena Ind.” We parked the van and headed inside.

The place smelled like a machine shop. The interior of the office reminded me of my grandmother’s house, kind of oldish but you felt at home when you went inside. At the desk there was the secretary, Linda. Whenever I talk to companies on the phone, I always envision them being much bigger then they really are. Maybe that is what I get for calling all those Microsoft and Dell call centers. Linda paged Ted Marena for us, and in under a minute, he was there. Ted Marena looked a lot like Mr. Liva. He looked like he knew so much about machining and tools. At first he thought the mill was for my dad, most adults think that only other adults would be doing business with them. I told him otherwise.

He offered us a tour of the shop. I would never turn down a chance to see a shiny machine shop, so I gratuitously accepted. We headed down a corridor to a double door. The ceiling tripled in height from the ceiling in the office. There were machines in there which where about the size of my house. I mean really big machines. He had surface grinders mostly, but still mainly of mills and lathes. I would give almost anything for access to a machine shop like that. Throughout the tour, we were bombarded with flyers and handouts about the shop. It was all pretty good stuff; I read through it later.

Finally at the end of our tour, he told us that the mill was in the other building, and that Linda would drive there and we should follow her. Linda took us through the maze of streets in East Hartford, and led us to a building which strongly resembled a large garage. It was white, and had no windows. Linda left us there and told us to call if we needed anything. I knocked on the door. No answer. We headed around back looking for someone. Nobody there. We knocked again. Finally this guy came to the door. He looked like the typical machine shop guy. We were told to come inside.

There it was. Sitting atop a forklift in the middle of the room was my mill. I couldn’t say whether or not it looked better in the pictures on ebay, but I can say this. It looked like crap. I literally mean crap. In some places the dirt was caked on so thick you couldn’t see the mill underneath.