As I travel, I am always looking for someone to go to dinner with, share a barbeque sandwich lunch and so forth. If you are in the area of any of these events (or along the way, since I often drive), give me a call on my cell phone (404.822.3412). I would be delighted to visit with you.

Also, I accept a limited number of trips per year to mills for reimbursement of travel expenses only (I am a cheap date). I like to visit mills and talk, and I'll be happy to hang around a day or two and talk to your professionals, shift teams and so forth, in a formal setting or just out in operations. Contact me for arranging such a visit.

One caveat: clients may require my presence at a time or place that conflicts with these. Clients get priority for every date but my wife's birthday or our anniversary.

21 - 24 May--Manhattan, New York

1 Jun 09--Papercon, Renaisance St. Louis, Saint Louis, Missouri, speaking at 1 pm on, "Don't forget the most important machine..."

Road Notes:

The road can be a lonely place when something goes wrong.

Last Wednesday and Thursday, I had been in Orlando, Florida, at the Recycled Paperboard Technical Association Meeting, speaking on the subject of safety. I told them that safety was an attitude, and most accidents were caused by one of five attitudinal problems:

1. Preoccupation
2. Macho
3. Fatalistic
4. Hurry
5. Ignorance.

I did this as an interactive talk, and they added one: fatigue. The talk was well received, and so was the safety roundtable in which I participated.

My plan for Friday was to get up early, make an appointment in the Macon, Georgia area about 11 a.m. and be home in time for the Annual "Relay for Life" Cancer Walk in our county.

Fred was with me. We got up at 3:30 a.m., loaded the car and headed out. About 5 a.m., we pulled into an "oasis" (gas and food stop) on the Florida Turnpike, about 30 miles south of Ocala, Florida. As I pulled into the gas station, most of the pumps were cordoned off. There was one pump on the outside and I pulled up to it. About the time I was going to start pumping, the attendant came over and pointed out it was diesel. My old temper flared up as I slammed down the pump. I opened the driver's door and was giving the attendant a bit of my mind (stupid, time for another visit to my shrink) when Fred saw an opportunity and bolted through the door. I made a lunging jump at him and tripped over the raised island of the gas pumps, landing hard on my left shoulder. Fred is running around like crazy, suicidally, one might say, as he checks out everything at the oasis. I know something is wrong with my arm--it won't work. A highway patrol officer is there and he asks if he should call an ambulance. I said yes.

Fred tires and comes back. I put him in the car. The officer tells me I won't be able to leave Fred in the car--it will be too hot when it becomes daylight. Also, I'll probably have to take a taxi back from the hospital, wherever it is (he didn't know, he was filling in from another district). The EMT's show up, look at my arm and decide nothing is broken. I decide not to go to the hospital with them--the logistics are too complicated.

I get back on the road--fortunately I am right handed for my left arm is absolutely useless and hurts very badly. A few miles up the road, I stop for gas (which I never got at the oasis) and call Laura. I suggest she find a friend and start south to meet me. My plan was to get to Valdosta, Georgia, where we have friends.

Back on the road, I decide I am not going to make it to Valdosta and I am compounding one bad accident with now bad behavior. New plan. I pull off at Ocala, find the nastiest looking hotel I can find (for I figured I would have no trouble checking Fred in there) and checked in. I got Fred's crate out of the car, put him, the crate, food and water in the room and cranked up the air conditioning. I looked up the hospital in the phone book (one of the few times I have ever used one, and boy, was I thankful for it), memorized the address, went out to the car and plugged it into the GPS.

The hospital staff could not believe I had driven there with what they called a very badly dislocated shoulder. They put me under, fixed it and put my arm in a sling. I was released, picked up Fred and met Laura a few miles up the road. What was very stupid turned out with as good an ending as possible.

OK, so what safety attitudes did I violate? I would say preoccupation and hurry. I was not fatigued--I had a good night's rest and I drive very well in the wee morning hours--my favorite driving time.

But there are other changes coming about from this:

1. Fred has gone into intensive training to stay where I tell him to stay. He's a smart dog and he is picking it up fast. It is solely my negligence that caused his behavior. He is having three training sessions a day. It will be two or three weeks until we go on the road together again, and he will have to be in shape to be allowed to go.
2. I have to get into better physical shape.
3. I must renew my efforts to be ever diligent concerning hazards. They are everywhere--even on the way home from giving a safety speech.
4. and, no, I am not going to sue anyone, even though the potential defendants--Shell Oil and the State of Florida--have very deep pockets.