For God, Country, and a Paycheck (or how I nearly lost my life)

Hello again from the (almost) beach. From my vantage point on the roof top of this 10 story building, I can see water off in the distance. Actually, the intercoastal is right in front of me, but why bother watching barges loaded with scrap metal and coal go right and left . I'd rather those willing to shell out $400,000 for a 900 square foot condo watch those from their soon-to-be mold free building.

Which brings me to this picture of my life. For some reason, the powers that be are concerned about the inside of this trash chute or exhaust chase. I'm currently suspended 10 floors above a 3'x4' enclosure awaiting to be lowered in by a hand crank to look at the mold inside the chase.

Three things are evident in the picture: First, notice how I am suspended. I'm attached to this tripod with a harness and a safety line (nylon cord). My butt is on a 1"x6" board with two cables, almost like a cheap-ass swingset. The end result is my body's inertia goes forward, so my face would be pushed against the mold I am supposed to be inspecting.

Second: Notice the BMSCat worker on the left side of the picture. He has a complete "This guy is an IDIOT" vibe about him. Can't understand why - aside from being suspended 120 feet above the ground, held only be a piece of wood and hand-controlled safety line.

Third: Notice the two BMSCat workers operating the crank on the tripod. They can't figure out how to operate the wheel and lower me down into the chase. So I am sitting on this rather uncomfortable piece of wood, while leaning forward awaiting being dropped unceremoniously into the chase. I am eye level with the crank, thinking to myself:

• Wow, I went to eight years of college for this. Who knew .....
• Isn't there someone else that can be doing this? Where is Tim Eaton (drxldmons) or Don French?
• Now would be a bad time to mention that I had Mexican for lunch.

As they start to turn the crank, I notice that I am not descending into the shaft. Instead the handle is spinning off the spool and metal shavings are littering the concrete below the tripod. The two BMSCat workers are arguing over why I am not going down (and this is bad how...) and eventually decide that the tripod and reel aren't working. As soon as they decide it isn't going to work, I make my exit from the shaft and put my best face on while trying to hold my disappointment in check.

Later in the day, I found out the gears in the reel were stripped. If I had went down, I would not have been able to get back up the shaft. I would have had to hand climb 100 feet up a nylon safety line to the top of the building. I couldn't do that in gym class, let alone 15 years later.