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Not a Chance: Score One More for the Great American Mousetrap

By Robert Strauss

Today’s Machining World January 2007 Volume 1 Number 1

“I guess you could call me the Head Rat,” said Andy Woolworth, whose rather more official title is Executive Vice President of the Woodstream Corporation. “I think I have the best job in America.”

Arrayed around Woolworth in the Woodstream conference room were some of his favorite Woodstream products – all of which are meant, in various ways, to get rid of mice. The most basic of these is the Victor EASY SET®.

“It is, to be frank, what people think of when they think, ‘Mousetrap’,” said Woolworth.

“It is an American icon, and I am just proud to be the person in charge of selling it.”

Since it was invented about 100 years ago, the EASY SET®, with its signature red “V” prominent, has been the slayer of more than a billion mice.

“At a price point of about two for a dollar, it is the simplest, cheapest way of getting rid of mice,” said Woolworth, not with the maniacal tone of an executioner, but more the matter-of-fact chant of a businessman. “Even though, as they say, we are always looking for a better mousetrap, we know we have an awfully good one here.”

Though it is cliché, there has been little that has symbolized American ingenuity more than the attempt to build the perfect mousetrap. Ralph Waldo Emerson was widely, if incorrectly, quoted as saying, “Build a better mousetrap and the world will beat a path to your door.” (What he actually said was, “If a man has good corn, or wood, or boards, or pigs to sell, or can make better chairs or knives, crucibles or church organs than anybody else, you will find a broad, hard-beaten road to his house, though it be in the woods,” but a later biographer distilled it to the “mousetrap” version, which people seem to like better.)

“That’s why I think inventors still try to build the mousetrap,” said Woolworth. A few dozen of them try Woodstream every year, and, in fact, Woolworth said the company is working with a few inventors for refinements on its traps and other pest control devices the company makes under different brand names.

“They have heard the line so often that it peaks their interest. It is truly American to think you can do something perfect, and the mousetrap signifies that,” he said. “But we make more mousetraps right here in Pennsylvania than any company in the world. And we are always looking for something better.”

Woodstream started as an outgrowth of the Oneida Community, one of the first utopian communes, in upstate New York. A commune member, Sewell Newhouse, developed the first high-quality leg-hold trap in 1848 and started marketing it to traders and trappers then exploring the Great Northwest and the Mississippi River basin.

The Newhouse traps, with silver and steel, became famous throughout the West, but by the latter part of the 19th century and early 20th century the business itself died down, and the Oneida company started making cutlery instead. Along the way, though, it acquired other trapping-type businesses, one of them being the Mast Mousetrap Company in Lititz, Pennsylvania.

In 1899, in response to continuous infestations of mice in a neighboring popcorn factory, John Mast tinkered around and finally came up with a heavy springsteel wire mechanism. He bolted it to some wood and put some cheese on a miniature platform on the front. When the mouse sniffed around the cheese and stepped on the platform – pow – the spring would smash down on his neck, killing him almost instantly.

Woolworth’s grandfather bought the firm, which was by then selling most of the leftover trapping equipment as well in 1920, calling it the Animal Trapping Corporation of America. It became Woodstream in 1966, and soon after branched out into hunting and fishing equipment. In the 1980s and 1990s, it bought or developed more rodent and wildlife control devices, from electric fences for corraling large animals to organic chemicals for mold and fungus to Perky Pet, the largest bird feeder company in the world.

Still, when Woolworth, with the help of other investors, came back into the business in 1986, he realized that it was the old Victor mousetrap that was the nexus around which the company could grow.

“Like I said, you see that red “V” and you know you have a product that everyone can associate with,” he said. “It just makes you want to, well, build the better mousetrap.”

Though he had grown up in nearby Lancaster and had the opportunity to go into the business as a young man, Woolworth chose instead to go to Harvard University– where Ralph Waldo Emerson himself had matriculated a century-and-a-half before – majoring not in business, but English literature. He took jobs in New England before returning home to work with Woodstream in 1986.

Lititz is the perfect home for the better mousetrap saga. It grew out of a Mennonite center of the mid 18th century, when the Germans – popularly known as the Pennsylvania Dutch – settled the hilly farm areas a day’s horse and buggy journey west of English Quaker Philadelphia.
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“This has long been an area of hard workers with generally conservative mindsets and religions,” said Woolworth. “Mennonites, Amish, even Quakers, all had that work ethic. Not everyone is Mennonite now, or even German, but I think somehow we have continued here to have that idea that hard work and smart work pays off. We have never had trouble having good employees who want to make the product better.”

The town has a population of only 9,000, but is headquarters to an impressive variety of industries – from Sturgis Pretzels, which claims to have the first pretzel bakery in America, to Wilbur Chocolates, which makes some of the elite Godiva products, to Clair Brothers and Tait Towers, which do sound systems and staging for theatrical and rock and roll acts worldwide. Downtown Lititz is full of antique shops, churches, and bed and breakfasts, many in buildings that date back to the 18th century.

“I think we also have one of the best weekend farmers’ markets around, too,” said Woolworth, a thin, but muscular man with only slightly greying hair. “I would say, without question, it is a Norman Rockwell kind of town.” Except it has the Head Rat, and he is out to get every darned rodent he can find.

“Actually, rats are harder. Rats and cockroaches will be there when the final holocaust hits. They seem to be able to survive most anything,” he said, and then an almost maniacal grin comes on his face. “But mice, well, mice are more fragile.”

The problem with mice, said Woolworth, is that they multiply quickly. They reach maturity in 45 days and can procreate every six weeks, with litters of up to five each time. “You can see, if you don’t get them early, it can be a real problem,” he said.

Woolworth likes to show off the Victor line in size and sophistication progression. First, to be sure, is the Quick Set, the old hard spring standard with the red “V.”

“It is still the standard, and there are still more of them around than any other kind. It is an effective lowcost way to rid the millions of mice invading people’s homes,” he said. Woodstream sells them to more than 100,000 retailers, Woolworth said, and despite competition from Germany, China and third-world countries, he believes it is the best spring-loaded trap around.

“It is not the kind of thing that is best hand-made, so the Chinese don’t compete. We do it on precision machines, so it is sturdy and snaps down perfectly each time,” he said. The company also makes a version with a plastic Swiss-cheese-looking plate for the mouse to sniff and step on. Strangely enough, though, the cheese is not as effective as all that. Mice, said Woolworth, tend to eat nuts, not cheese. When catching a mouse, then, the best bait is peanut butter.

“But I don’t think Skippy is going to partner with us any time soon,” he said with a chuckle. “I think they want to have Mickey Mouse smiling and eating Skippy, not some mouse ready to die.”

The next step up are the Quick Set and the Quick Kill mousetraps, plastic contraptions that have lids over the bait areas. The mouse goes after the bait, setting off a lever that rigs the lid to smash over him. On the Woodstream website (www.victorpest.com), the Quick Set and Quick Kill – two somewhat similar styles of effective mouse execution – go for $3.99 to $4.46 for a two-pack, while the Easy Set sells for $2.25 for a four-pack. Woolworth said his up-and-coming market, women and the elderly, go for the Quick Set and Quick Kill more often.

“You know, they don’t want to see eyes bulging and tails coming out,” he said. “Women and the elderly are growing markets for us, what with the differences in living situations these days, so we want to cater to them. This way, they just pick up the trap, don’t see the mouse, and throw it away.”

Woodstream also caters to another group – those who want their mice caught alive and put back in the wild. The Poison Free trap is a maze of sorts that, when baited correctly, traps up to four mice, but neither suffocates nor has a snap mechanism to kill them, allowing the trapper to release them far enough away from the house so as not to have them return.

“That way, even the PETA folks have an alternative,” said Woolworth. Woodstream also sells glue traps – either glue-backed pads or plastic containers with nut-sprinkled glue, but even Woolworth disdains them, except in dire situations. “I agree with the PETA people with the glue,” he said, noting that when a mouse gets stuck, it often takes a couple of hours for him to die, either from dehydration or through a stress-induced heart attack from not being able to get out of the deadly glue pit. “Unless there is a big infestation, I would be a bit more humane and go for the quick kill.”

The new big item, though, is the Victor Electronic Mouse Trap, which can be used again and again for those nasty rodent invasions. “It is such a high frequency that even dogs and cats can’t hear it, and it rings at 103 decibels for a mouse, so it is like a foghorn combined with nails on a chalkboard, an unbearable cacophony,” he said. It does not kill the mouse, but drives him far away.

“Although if you have guinea pigs or pet mice, you don’t want to buy this, because it will drive them nuts.” Woolworth, though, said he is never going to sit on his snap-trapping laurels, that someday, somehow, there may well be a better mousetrap out there.

“We think we know everyone in the field and that most of the innovation comes right off our own floor,” he said, noting that even the EASY SET® trap has had minor fixes along the way from one or more of the 300 Woodstream employees in Lititz. “I won’t tell you the secrets, but each time, it has gotten better.”

He claims that the EASY SET® traps are 88 percent effective and the Quick Sets are up to 92 percent in trapping nearby mice, while even the better handmade brands coming out of China only get their prey 40 percent of the time. “They are just not
sturdy enough. That is our key,” he said.

“Still, there may always be that better one,” he said, “and we just hope when it comes, it comes right to us.”

Going Underground: Subterranean Manufacturing

U.S. commerce is moving underground, especially in Kansas City. Lured by the promise of low overhead and virtually no infrastructural investment, some four hundred enterprises currently call subterranean Kansas City home. Working below the sidewalk offers numerous advantages beyond cost reduction, and surprisingly few downsides.

SubTropolis in Kansas City, MO. An underground storage, distribution and manufacturing facility with nearly 5-million square feet, 6.65 miles of lighted, wide, paved roads, 2.1 miles of railroad, 16-foot ceiling height, more than 1,300 employees. Photo courtesy of Hunt Midwest

The world below has captivated mankind since that day in misty prehistory when the first proto-human shed its tail. There’s something weirdly compelling about the great unknown beneath our feet, a fascination potent enough to inflame tinder in an artist’s soul. Writers from Dante to J.R.R. Tolkien set portions of their most important works in the planet’s entrails, as did painters like Hieronymus Bosch, whose notorious triptych The Garden of Earthly Delights is still considered by art historians and psychologists alike, the most disturbing depiction of The Region Infernal ever to curse a canvas.

In recent years, commerce has trailed the artistic imagination deep into the belly of Mother Earth. Nowhere is this trend more evident than in metro Kansas City, where hundreds of businesses earn their living in the city’s sub-terrain. Strange, given K.C.’s reputation as something of a dowager among U.S. metros, not exactly famous for a willingness to embrace progressive concepts in business practice, or for that matter, much of anything else. Yet it turns out this Bible Belt buckle of a Midwestern town is uniquely amenable to underground commerce, as it sits atop a subsurface honeycomb comprising literally millions of square feet.

“Kansas City is a natural for mining,” explains Dave Melzer, project manager for Dean Realty Co., the region’s first underground real estate developer. “You can cut horizontally because the rock lies at an elevation accessible to development. There’s also a lot of naturally-formed, subterranean space, which combined with the mines, has created what amounts to a second land-use opportunity. This made our town more geologically suited to underground development than most, and because the environment below is also temperaturestable, green before green was cool.”

A Natural

Kansas City isn’t flat, as often asserted by people who’ve never been there, but river-valley typical. Bluffs rise mightily along the Missouri, while downtown, city blocks undulate in a manner reminiscent of the urban peaks and valleys of San Francisco. These topographical attributes proved very attractive to mining companies, which launched a helter-skelter exploration of the region’s limestone hills late in the Nineteenth Century. The practice of random burrowing was relatively shortlived. By the 1950s, the region’s industrialists had come to appreciate the advantages inherent in creating a usable underground, and were digging for that purpose as well as mineral extraction.

Today the world below Kansas City is a clean, well-lit environment of cement floors, whitewashed walls and huge, rock pillars. This vast, subterranean realm is subdivided into hundreds of roomy designer spaces, which appear from common areas like storefronts in a shopping mall. Claustrophobia is no problem. Unless one goes looking for a window, it is easy to forget the surface is more than one-hundred feet overhead.

Subterranean Superlatives

So why go underground? It’s cheaper, for one. The price of new construction is not a factor, since all the structure one needs is right there waiting to be exploited. Square footage lease fees are much-reduced as a result, along with the costs of preparation. In dollar and labor terms, the occupation of a previously undeveloped space usually entails nothing more punitive than the installation of a little flooring, lighting and plumbing, and a few fire sprinklers.

Cost-saving point two; the temperature below ground averages a cozy 70 degrees no matter what may be happening upstairs, translating to a roughly 20 percent utility expense reduction. This advantage segues to another, even more important in the long run. When fossil fuel usage decreases, carbon emissions travel in the same direction. The point is that doing business underground is environmentally civilized.

“Kansas City can get blisteringly hot in summer, and just as cold in winter,” comments Hugh Gardner, area manager, Priority Envelope Inc., a printer/manufacturer of envelopes with one of three facilities in the K.C. Underground. “Utility costs can be pretty high above ground, but in a subterranean space they’re not a big deal. That, combined with low square foot leasing cost, had a significant impact on our decision to move down here. We’ve been in our underground facility for more than two years, and while we’ve had to make some accommodations to humidity, everything has worked out pretty well.”

Priority’s subterranean factory consumes 38,000 square feet, and employs 35 people. Like a basement, the space traps humidity, a major issue for a company for whom paper products are stock-in-trade. To get around what might otherwise be a deal-killer, special dehumidifying gear was installed throughout the facility to great effect. A cruise through the plant is like a walk on the beach. The temperature never rises above 70 degrees. Natural ventilation freshens everything, and customized dehumidifiers steal moisture hanging in the air.

“We had to run a lot of lighting and dehumidifying equipment to make the underground concept work for us,” Gardner recalls. “But even after all of that was factored into the equation, it still made good economic sense to set up shop down here. The scope of envelope manufacturing is very large, and until quite recently, plants were rarely air conditioned. A facility will get really hot in the summertime, so compared to the megabucks we’d have to throw at A/C, the costs of extra lighting and dehumidifying are practically negligible.”

Ventilation also factors in other types of light subterranean manufacturing. This is certainly the case for Byrne Custom Woodworking Inc., a K.C.-based producer of mid to high-end residential and commercial wood products. According to owner Ian Byrne, the dust clouds generated in furniture making necessitated an investment in exhaustive vents for every piece of equipment in the facility.

“It wasn’t cheap,” owner Ian Byrne recalls. “We had to lay out roughly $40,000 for a single dust dispersing unit with multiple attachments. Dust is only one of the issues you have to cope with when making furniture in a closed space. Another is fumes, for which the cost of an exhaust system is more than we can currently afford. In some ways this slows us down. We offer a line of pre-finished cabinets, but because of the hazards you run into with fumes, we’ve have no choice but to work on them off-site.”

Fumes are potentially destructive not only to the lungs of employees but the facility itself, Byrne adds. A single spark can be enough to cause a massive explosion in a vent-less, fume-permeated space, a sobering fact that all by itself cancels any possibility of doing finishing work underground.

What About Shop Work?

The answer is “yes,” with stipulations. Take the case of K-Ter Imagineering Inc. a machinery and tool manufacturer with several years in subterranean K.C. According to President Roger Gubbels, working below imposes limitations on manufacturing operations that can have hampering effects on operational efficiency.

“Ceiling space is at a premium,” he explains. “Sixteen feet is all we’ve got, and sometimes that’s not enough. You also can’t do spray painting underground because of air quality issues. We used to paint frames with a brush and roller, but when that became impractical we gave up on painting altogether. There are strict regulations in effect, limiting what you can and can’t do in a closed environment, and we have to abide by every one of them.”

But the assets earned operating underground more than outweigh the liabilities, Gubbels admits. Some affect areas of business one might not normally think about in that context. Insurance is one example. K-Ter’s rates have gone down overall because the company no longer has to worry about being on the receiving end of a twister, or some other act of God arriving out of the blue. K-Ter also pays less for fire protection by virtue of the fact that limestone doesn’t burn. A sudden conflagration may take out equipment, or God forbid, people. A limestone mineshaft, it can’t destroy.

“The underground offers manufacturing operations like ours a number of significant cost and comfort perks,” adds Robin Collins, office manager, Collins Machinery Inc., a manufacturer of sawmills and portable backhoes. “Our facility is nearly 15,000 square feet, big enough to contain 17 employees, a forklift, four welding machines, a Miller mig welder and a plasma cutter. The welders and assembly people love the space because they get to work in a temperate environment all year long. I love it too, except in late August when we get our yearly gnat infestation. That inconvenience lasts only a month, and the remaining eleven more than make up for it.”

Hiring a new employee

Today’s Machining World Archive: July 2006, Vol. 2, Issue 07

I am a bookkeeper with a small company. My boss, one of three brothers who own the business, is married with three kids. Last month, he asked me to place a considerably younger woman, whom I have never seen in our shop, on the payroll. A work associate told me the woman is my boss’s mistress. I processed an expense account report for a tradeshow trip, and I noticed dinner receipts for two and hotel bills showing double occupancy. I knew his wife was home with the kids during the show because I saw her that week at the hockey complex where our kids play. His two brothers are absentee owners (both get paychecks) whom I don’t think would approve of their brother’s actions. Should I confront my boss? Should I tell his brothers? The amount is not huge, but it’s better than my paycheck. The work associate says my boss is an adulterer who is using the company’s money to fund his own indiscretions, and I ought to report it to his brothers.

Russell says:

Family businesses are often piggy banks for the owners who use them to fund all sorts of activities, including some which are marginally related, if at all, to the operation of the business.

While you have your suspicions, you have no clear evidence of illegal conduct (tax fraud, money laundering), and there are a variety of innocent explanations for your boss’s conduct. Perhaps Ms. X is a leading expert on quality systems, and the restaurant tab reflects a working dinner in preparation for a sales pitch the next day. Maybe the hotel bill shows double occupancy because his wife, who planned to come, stayed behind to take the hockey player to district finals, which no one expected the team to make. If Ms. X attended the conference, you might ask where her hotel receipt is. But, she may say she stayed with her old business school roommate, who
happens to live in the town where the conference was held.

While there is no question the circumstances are suspicious, you don’t have the facts. “Pulling the trigger” at this point may only embarrass you, jeopardize your job, and unnecessarily disrupt what may be happy marriage. On the other hand, the brothers are surely entitled to know of the waste of their corporate assets. The only problem is, you don’t know if your boss is looting the corporate kitty or if this is a legitimate expenditure. All you know is that you put her on the payroll, and you don’t see her at the office. Even if she is paid to be candy for your boss, perhaps his brothers are fine with it. After all, they are drawing salaries instead of dividends even though they don’t show up for work, because there are substantial tax advantages for doing so. Let them look at the balance sheet at their next meeting. If they have questions for you, answer them with the facts, not your suspicions.

You are there to keep the books, not to serve as his moral compass or the eyes and ears of his absentee brothers. Unless you know that this activity is fraudulent, and you are being asked to participate in illegal conduct such as the preparation of fraudulent tax returns, you are best off minding your own business.

Russle Ethridge is an attorney in private practice in
southeast Michigan. The material provided in this article
is for information purposes only and does not constitute legal advice.

One on One – An Interview with Dick Goodall

Today’s Machining World Archive:March 2008, Vol.4, Issue 03

by Lloyd Graff


Dixon Valve Fittings Maker

LG: Dick, you sell what some people might see as a mundane and generic product – hose fittings and couplings. How do you see your product?
DG: Couplings are like hinges on a door – somebody always thinks of what the door looks like, but not about the hinges. Every door needs a hinge and every hose needs a coupling. No matter what kind of industry you’re in, you’re going to need a fitting on the end of that hose.

LG: What competitor do you fear the most?
DG: There are a lot of good competitors, good companies that make product. In the quick disconnect stuff, there are the Parkers of the world. But a lot of the stuff that we developed years ago comes from China now.

LG: What is your China strategy?
DG: We opened up a distribution facility in Shanghai. Our number one goal is to be selling into China. We’re selling to these folks and we’re starting to establish distribution in China and India. The infrastructure of those countries is where our country was 60-70 years ago. They’re building roads, dams and buildings, and we have products that they use, and we want to be there selling them product. I think it’s obvious to anybody in our business that a lot of the manufacturing of the product has gone to China. We do some procurement in China of which we notify our customers. But we try to have and maintain the capabilities to make it in United States still. We sell a lot of cam and groove fittings for the petroleum industry and we’re very proud of the designs we have in our manufacturing. We spent a lot of dollars. We have a lot of people manufacturing those products in this country, but some items in that line are made in China.

LG: Describe cam and groove.
DG: It’s the stuff you see on the tanker trucks for loading or off loading. We have a facility in Canada and we make it here in Chestertown, Md.

LG: Do you import product from China?
DG: We do, but not a lot. Let me define something here for you. We have a global market. We have facilities in China; in Europe; we’re selling into Mexico and Canada. We don’t manufacture in Australia anymore – we used to, but that market has totally become a Chinese imported product, not by us but by other folks. Most of our export product that we’re making in the States is going into Australia and Europe. We do have a manufacturing facility in Preston, England, but they’re making more high end stuff for the oil fields like the North Sea.

LG: You’ve acquired a number of smaller fittings players in recent years. What has been your acquisition strategy?
DG:
We’ve never gone out and deliberately looked for an acquisition. When opportunities arise in business, we’ve asked: Can this enhance our distributor-base to sell product to their end customers and our end customers? If the answer is yes, then we look at the opportunities: Does this make sense? Does this add to our expertise? If the answer is yes, then we’ll pursue that acquisition. One example was Bradford and Bradford. They make sanitary fittings for food and wine. The fellow came and said, “I’ve owned this company for 20 years, developed it and I’m not going to be in this business anymore. Would you be interested in buying my company?” We bought that company and brought it under the Dixon label; now it’s called Dixon Sanitary, the Bradford line of fittings. His daughter is our general manager of that business unit.

LG: How do you develop the Dixon Valve brand?
DG: Our name is a misnomer. We haven’t made valves for 30 years. It’s fittings. All the big guys in the world that make the valves have that market pretty well wrapped up, and we represent some of those lines in our product mix. We pride ourselves on service. We have a quality product; we will not ever sacrifice the quality of what we make for any reason. The difference is that we’re shipping 99.4 percent of the product out within 12 hours of the order being received, including items we stock from other manufacturers like filters, regulators, lubricators or gauges. We can fill our distributors’ needs quicker than they can going to the source supplier because we service the hell out of these guys. That’s probably the secret of our business.

LG: That goes to the heart of the brand building.
DG: Absolutely. The brand has been around since 1916. I’m not trying to be an infomercial, but we spend a lot of time making sure we satisfy our customers on delivery and service. It’s really important because our guys then don’t have to stock stuff themselves.

LG: Does this strain you to hold inventory in stock?
DG: If you talk to the bankers, that’s what they don’t like. We have a lot of inventory, but we do that deliberately. You can’t service out of an empty bucket.

LG: Do you think lean is a myth?
DG: Lean is not a myth. We’re working on lean shop floor stuff all the time; on value stream mapping; in our distribution; our accounting, our sales, marketing, everything. Lean is not a myth. It’s continuously trying to get better at everything you do and measuring that. Once you measure, you change. We’re measuring an awful lot, not just in production metrics but throughout our
business; otherwise, we couldn’t still be here competing. I think it’s where a lot of manufacturing guys have given up. They say, “Well it’s just as easy to get it made overseas.” We really believe that there’s a lot of future left for manufacturing in this country.

LG: Why do you believe that?
DG: Because we’ve got a lot of smart people here, not just in our company but in our country, and you treat your people the way they should be treated and encourage them to work as teams and things seem to happen right. We’ve been blessed over the years with some absolutely terrific people.

LG: Then why do you think so many people have given up on manufacturing domestically?
DG:
Because it’s really easy to meet up with some importer or rep from some China organization who’ll say, “Oh, we’ll make that for you. You’re paying $15 where I can make it for $6.” You say, “Well, your quality is not quite as good, but it’s good enough and I could be more competitive,” so people just give up. It’s the easy way out.

LG: I’ve been in your plants and I see a lot of multispindle National Acme and New Britain screw machines. You’re committed to keeping a robust but highly varied inventory. Where do the old cam operated screw machines fit into an operation like yours?
DG:
It’s interesting you mentioned lean. Where we might’ve run 10,000 to 40,000 of a hose coupling and run it three, four times a year, you might be running items now seven, eight, 10 times a year, the same product, running smaller quantities. The screw machine is a little more difficult to get those economic values on how many you run at a time, but we’ve been able to service ourselves
and continue to use that kind of equipment, and filter it into our lean philosophy of running things more often.

LG: You must be successful in doing it because you’re competing against a lot of imported goods and a lot of highly skilled people who are very good at what they do.
DG: Absolutely. Most of the competition that’s left the United States is pretty good, which is good. I think we all like having good competition. It makes life more interesting. What worries you as an individual and a citizen of the U.S. is that some of the key products we need in both our military and our industrial complexes are being made in China now, and that’s scary.

LG: Where do you see growth in your business?
DG: We’re in a lot of different markets. Hopefully when one market is facing tough times, another market picks up. Growth may come with some of the federal programs and road building and dams; we’re into that. We think some of these things are going to be going on for years and we’re going to work hard to be the best supplier that our distributors can get, and try to build that brand. That’s why we started Boss magazine, trying to build the brand not only through distributors but continue to try to pull it through to the end users through the distribution channel.

LG: Do you have much family in the business?
DG: The families originally formed by my grandfather and my brother and I are here at the company. We have people who aren’t family but been around forever. Our president of our company, Lou Farina, has been with the company longer than I have, and his dad’s been with the company 56 years. It might not be blood family, but it’s family. They’ve been with the organization and we feel a lot of responsibility to those folks to maintain and work hard. We try to empower them with a lot of the responsibilities in the organization.

LG: Why have you chosen to stay private?
DG: It’s nice being able to do things without going through layers of bureaucracy. If our folks need a new machine, we get the new machine. With acquisitions, if an opportunity arises, we do things rather quickly, and you can’t do that all the time in public companies.

LG: How about export? Is this a thriving area now with the “weak” American dollar?
DG:
It’s exciting. We always sold into Mexico through distribution channels. About five years ago we put our own warehousing facilities in Mexico. We’ve been doing great and now we’re going into Central and South America. We’re selling and sending our first lot of product into our warehouse in India. We have a guy in Russia.

LG: How much does the weak dollar have to do with this?
DG: I don’t think it has a lot because we were doing this before the dollar got weak. It does make it easier, but it’s more or less getting in front of the customer, enhancing the brand, identifying the brand. Most people globally know our brand. We’re a little company but our brand is bigger than we are. Once we made our model the way we wanted to by stocking and delivering to our customer, we’ve been getting business.

LG: Is your business price-driven or brand-driven?
DG: It’s not price-driven. I think brand-driven is part of it. I think we’re service-driven and brand-driven. You can’t be off price much. You can’t be the lowest priced guy and the best quality and best delivery guy. You can’t fit all those things into one bucket. We are very price competitive and we do lead in some price areas, but we don’t ever give up that to sacrifice quality or service.

LG: How important is it for you to develop team spirit?
DG: The culture of the organization has to do with the people who are in the organization. We spend a lot of time talking to people, whether they’re the people running a machine downstairs, sweeping the floor or one of our vice presidents of accounting. We have meetings with every one of our employees. We meet in groups of 10 to 20 people four times a year, and we talk about how the business is going. We economically share with our people when we meet our growth above and beyond our compensation programs. We realize our people are the key to our longevity and success. We believe in it, and it’s manifested in people staying a long time. The continuity
of effort means people know our business; we know how we want to conduct business and conduct it that way.

LG: I think cumulative memory is one of the most misunderstood and least valued items in today’s business world. When a company has people who’ve worked in the company for a long time, they have company memory. That is extremely valuable.
DG: You’re right. When your employees start feeling part of the company rather than just an employee or a worker and they feel they have some value, if they feel they can help make changes, it reinforces the culture of working together. About 25 years ago, we started asking how to get more people involved in our decision-making processes. We realized we were having a lot of fun, but how many other people were having it?

LG: What do you do besides business?
DG: I love working out, did triathlons until I messed up my Achilles. In the summertime, I love boating.

LG: Do you abide by the argument that there isn’t a shortage of jobs; there’s a shortage of skills?
DG:
I’m not sure I agree with either. There might be a shortage of skills but those skills can be taught.

LG: You’ve been in business for 92 years. You’ve defied the odds of having a family business survive at least three generations. You’ve defied the odds as far as having a machining business thriving in the U.S.
DG:
We continue to buy equipment. We think that’s important. Did you read Jim Collins’ book Good to Great?

LG: I did.
DG: There’s one thing in there that I read and read it again and didn’t get. I had an opportunity to be at a meeting where Collins was and I asked him about it. He said it is about the “who,” not the “what.” Without the “who” you’re never going to be successful. That may sound a little crazy if you haven’t read that book. But if you have the right folks doing whatever job they’re doing, you’re going to be successful. I believe that it’s good people who make it all possible.

LG: It’s the job of management and owners to find the good people; it’s also their job to give good people interesting problems to work on and then reward them in satisfying ways.
DG:
You get the right people, you treat them right, and they’ll treat you and the business right.

Afterthought – War Torn

Lloyd and Noah Graff are in California goofing off this week. This is a favorite column from the magazine archives

by Lloyd Graff

I have never written about my military career, but Robert Strauss’s piece is the impetus forme to come to grips with it in print.

My view of military service was shaped by my father’s war stories. He riveted our family with his stories of World War II, when he desperately fought to stay out of combat. He became a manufacturer of critical aircraft and munitions components in order to avoid getting drafted. In the process he made a considerable sum of money, but staying alive and out of the service was his primary motive. Same for his brother Jerry and partner Aaron Pinkert. Their war was with the draft board, and they sweated every meeting.

They all stayed out because they were doing critical military work. Strictly above board. When I grew up in the 1960s, Vietnam raged. I was sure I was going to be drafted, sent to Southeast Asia and end up dead or in a wheelchair. It was the daily nightmare I lived, and it affected almost everything I did.

After I graduated from college, I went to Law School just to keep my deferment. But as the war was getting hotter and hotter, it appeared that school wasn’t going to hide me forever. I signed up for every Army Reserve and National Guard unit I could find. My dad had some political connections through a Congressman and played that card. Late in 1967, I got the call from the Illinois Guard and reported to Basic Training January 2nd, 1968 at Fort Jackson, outside of Columbia, South Carolina. These were the days of the “Tet Offensive” in Vietnam, the tipping point in the war.

I was the only Guardsman in my training company of 300 men, most of whom would soon face combat. I thought they would hate me because I was probably going home in eighteen weeks, but they didn’t.

About half of the guys in my unit were just out of college and none of them relished going to war. Almost every night we discussed the war with some of the guys weighing the odds of fleeing to Canada, and others trying to figure out the best way to break a leg.

The fellow who had the bunk just beneath me did avoid Vietnam. He was a tough kid from Pittsburgh who fell ill to spiral meningitis. He died in the infirmary during the fourth week of Basic. I had a terrible sore throat that fourth week and wondered if I was coming down with it. I hung in there until I got my first pass and immediately headed for the emergency room at the best hospital in Columbia. The doctor said, “Son, you don’t have meningitis, but that’s one of the worst sore throats I’ve seen. Take this antibiotic and you’ll be fine.” I think I felt better in 24 minutes.

I called CBS News in New York to report the meningitis outbreak. I don’t know if they ever followed up.

I went home to Chicago in May of ’68. Martin Luther King had been murdered in April, and my Guard unit had been mobilized to keep order in Chicago, but I was still at Fort Jackson. I was back on duty for the Democratic Convention in 1968 but the Captain did not put me on the street in Chicago with a bayonet. I stayed back at the Armory writing lesson plans for artillery training, which was never done.

The closest I ever got to Vietnam was the black granite Memorial in Washington. I cried there for the classmates and friends who died in that awful place.

And now we have Iraq, and I’m grateful my boys are not there. And I’ve supported the war and Bush, and I grieve for the men and women who have fallen in the savagery.

I am a draft dodger, son of a draft dodger, with just a little tinge of guilt, yet so grateful to have had a life without having to kill or be killed. I am a soldier who never had to soldier. I am reconciled to never being reconciled to war.

Vietnam Memorial

Selling on Love

Lloyd and Noah Graff are in California goofing off this week. This is a favorite column from the magazine archives

by: Lloyd Graff

When you sell hope and compassion for a beloved companion you are not competing by the penny. Eddie and Leslie Grinnell have built a business and a life since 1989 by attending to the needs of ailing dogs, their anguished owners and the animal healing community.

They are brilliant champions of the “follow your passion,” “believe in your intuition,” and “if you build it, they will come” philosophies. They live the clichés of the Brian Tracey, Tony Robbins and Jim Collins books, making wheelchairs for dachshunds with degenerating discs, and spaniels with failing spines.

They have built a market where euthanasia was the first option a few years ago. Their conveyances made salesdogs out of their own four once-disabled dogs.

According to Leslie, their company Eddie’s Wheels for Pets started because their dog Buddha needed a way to get from here to there in the local woods after disc disease hobbled her. Eddie couldn’t stand seeing her misery, and built her his first custom dogcart, a variation on the human wheelchair.

Eddie himself was ailing from severely flat feet. It made his long gigs standing on cement as an engineer, specializing in big installations of complicated machinery, a labor of pain.

Buddha needed wheels. Eddie needed a career shift. The two coalesced in Eddie’s Wheels in rural Western Massachusetts.

Word spread about Eddie’s wonderful handmade dog wheelchairs. Orders trickled in, and he refined the product. He and Leslie went to Veterinary Medicine conventions and product exhibitions a few times a year. Knowledge of the product spread amongst dog lovers in Japan and Europe.

Animal surgery became more sophisticated in the 1990s as vets and owners demanded recovery devices. Eddie’s Wheels rode the building wave of reconstructive medicine and the business grew.

Eddie and Leslie bought the components for their dog conveyances from local distribution houses and job shops. They priced the product from $300 to $1200 per wheelchair, depending on how large and complicated the job was. The key to success was getting perfect measurements to exquisitely customize the product. What worked for a Siberian husky wouldn’t suffice for a leggy greyhound.

There are a few other dogcart builders now, but Leslie says her website and referrals keep Eddie’s Wheels growing. She says people call and ask her what the price is. She asks them about their dog. After a half hour of listening to the story of love and woe that each owner tells, price is no longer the point.

Eddie’s Wheels recently won a Massachusetts Exporter of the Year award. The advent of pet health insurance has been a boom to the business.

Eddie just invested $50,000 in a small Hurco vertical machining center, the first sophisticated machine tool in their 4000 square-foot plant in bucolic Shelburne Falls, Massachusetts, overlooking a pond.

Leslie is shifting her marketing focus to the holistic pet healers. The animal chiropractors and acupuncturists are gaining respect in the veterinary medical community. They are interested in Eddie’s Wheels.

The story of Eddie’s Wheels is feel good music for the small business magazines. Leslie says that Daisy her dachshund is by far her best salesman, as she cavorts after a chipmunk next to the plant. But the wonderful vibe of Eddie’s Wheels does not deny 17 years of hard work and dreaming to build a business that sells on love, not on price.

Driving Lessons

Lloyd and Noah Graff are in California goofing off this week. This is a favorite column from the magazine archives.

By: Lloyd Graff

I’ve watched the golf movie Tin Cup a dozen times, and every time I view it I love it more. Kevin Costner plays Roy McAvoy, a broken-down golf pro relegated to giving lessons at a driving range in armadillo-infested Salome, Texas.

McAvoy has every shot in the game. He can shoot par using only a seven iron, but his confidence is shot and his life and his game are in shambles. Then Rene Russo comes to town. She plays a psychologist. She is also dating Costner’s nemesis Don Johnson, a prominent tour player who is as obnoxious as he is successful.

Costner falls painfully in love with Russo, who he meets when she is trying to learn how to play golf. He commits to turning his life around by attempting to qualify for the U.S. Open.

Naturally, he does pass the test and goes on to play in the ultimate tournament with his caddie Cheech Marin and Russo as his sports shrink and semi-girlfriend.

The greatness of the movie is in the ending scenes when Costner rebounds from a terrible first round to challenge for the championship. The dramatic setup for the movie is the difficult par 5 18th hole which is surrounded by water. The rational play is to lay up on the second shot for a fairly easy par and possible birdie. But Costner, the ultimate golf romantic or idiot, attempts to hit a 240-yard three wood in each of the first three rounds, failing each time.

The climax of the movie occurs when Costner attempts the virtually impossible shot in the last round when a par will get him to a playoff. He hits a virtually perfect shot, only to see it trickle over the green into the water hazard. Costner then plays the next ball from the same spot and again knocks it into the water. He proceeds to play Don Quixote on the next six shots until he is down to the last ball in his bag. If he misses the green he is disqualified and loses the chance to finish in the top 15 and qualify for other major tour events.

The commentators and fans are beside themselves with anguish as they see Costner selfdestruct in his desperate quest for the perfect shot. On his last attempt he not only rolls it on to the green, but watches it fall in the cup.

He loses the tournament but wins the girl with his heroic choice.

The greatness of the movie is in how it plays off the desire for success and winning against the purity of going for perfection and defying the golf gods. We revel in Costner’s romantic lunacy, but we hate him for throwing away his chance of a lifetime to win the Open.

Costner’s moment of clarity comes after his elation in killing the dragon and sinking the miracle shot. He realizes he has just blown the U.S. Open because of his grandiosity and ego. But then Rene Russo tells him that the shot will immortalize him, and she loves him for it. This is the moment that makes this movie worth watching again and again and again for me – the tension between going for broke and playing to win. I saw Phil Mickelson go for it all in the 2006 Open and blow the tournament, but I love him for the effort. The golf philosophers have pilloried him for his brazen stupidity. He banished himself from the tour for many weeks trying to recover from the shame of trying the amazing shot and failing to hit it.

In business most of us play it safe. We lay up. We are prudent stewards of assets. The joy of watching Tin Cup for the tenth time is being thrilled by the purity of Roy McAvoy’s quest for perfection and fulfillment – and wishing they were ours for the grasping.

Clients for Life – The quest to perfect prosthetics

For nearly two decades, Ron Farquharson was just plain frustrated with his body-powered prosthetic arm. Sure, it seemed like state-of-the-art to some, since he was able to hold jobs and get around like a “normal” person. “But what Ron really liked to do was cook,” said Farquharson’s friend, Johnnie Rouse, somewhat laughing at the thought. “There was no real safe way for someone with a hook or a battery-powered arm to hold knives, or at least no really easy and effective way of doing it.”

Farquharson had lost his right lower arm in an industrial accident in June 1971. Fifteen hundred pounds of hydraulic press fell on his hand and crushed it. Doctors fitted him with a prosthesis with a number five hook on it. Farquharson learned how to use it well, but as time went on, he figured there had to be something better. His friend, Rouse, had a machine shop, and by the mid-1980s, encouraged Farquharson to come up with something that was better, since no one else seemed to be moving that way.

“Ron came to the shop with some drawings and I thought, “I can do that‚” he said. “So we worked on it and soon we had the N-Abler. I would guess that is the story of all successful inventions.”

Though exact national figures are hard to come by, it is clear that amputation, and thus the need for prosthetics for arms and legs, is increasing. A New York Times story earlier this year said that by February of 2006, 387 soldiers had come back from Iraq as amputees.

Quadruple amputee Mike Sciullo displaying his WWII photos in his studio, where he currently restores photographs for clients.

“Whether it is because of the Iraq War or just the aging of the baby boomers and the propensity for older people to lose limbs from diabetes and other diseases, there is just more of a need for these products,” said Joanne Kanas, a certified prosthetist/orthotist, the professional who fits amputees for their prosthetics and sometimes constructs them. She works in the Linwood, New Jersey, office of Hanger Prosthetics and Orthotics and, as such, sees many new and old products.

The machined parts of the prosthetics, she said, can be quite simple or as complex as a small computer, depending on the device. In recent years, some prosthetics have become electronic, which requires processors and wires and equipment equivalent to that used in EKG machines. Yet even with that amount of sophistication, many of her clients opt for old-fashioned – sometimes jury-rigged – mechanical devices.

Take, for instance, Mike Sciullo, who lives in the quite beach town of Brigantine, only a couple of miles north of the cacophony of the casino Mecca of Atlantic City. Twelve years ago, soon after coming home from a hard day at his photography business, Sciullo, then 67, fell asleep and went into septic shock. By the time he woke up from a coma in the hospital eight weeks later, his extremities had lost too much circulation, had developed gangrene, and had to be amputated. His right hand has a wrist, but no fingers, while his left arm is incomplete below the elbow. His legs are lost below the knee.

Thus, he has three different types of prosthetics. His left arm has a hook and his legs are plastic-covered with interior mechanical parts. His right arm has a clapper-like device with a stainless steel hinge and copper rivets and burrs to hold the device together, with a simple Velcro to attach it to a support around the wrist. The flap acts like a thumb, but has several settings depending on how tightly Sciullo wants to grasp something.

“The copper sometimes oxidizes because I use it so much, so maybe that wasn’t the greatest idea,” he said. “But I got used to it and you do not want to change what works.”

Kanas said she replaces the rivets with simple ones she buys at Home Depot.

“Sometimes it is like that,” she said. “If you are an amputee, you are a client for life. If you are a normal person and turn a knee and it gets rehabbed, you may never go to the doctor again. Once you have a mechanical item, though, it wears or gets broken and you have to come back. That doesn’t mean it is complicated machinery. Sometimes it is just rivets from Home Depot.”

Johnnie Rouse (left) and Ron Farquharson of Texas Assistive Devices (right) examining a part from the N-Abler V.

Or sometimes it is workmanship from a lone machine shop – Johnnie Rouse’s, for instance.

Rouse makes the Texas Assistive Devices – that’s the name of the company Farquharson now owns – N-Ablers primarily on three CNC mills and two CNC lathes. The N-Abler V, which is the successor to the first four versions of the artificial hand device, is somewhat like a wrench set. A metal wrist-like device hooks onto whatever stump of the arm is available. Then there are different kinds of inserts that go into the “hand” end of the device, depending on what the wearer wants to do. Farquharson’s favorite is his cooking knives.

“I’ve always like to cook and I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t feel I was safe,” he said. “Now my hand can become like a knife.”

Depending on what the amputee needs, Rouse will mill it. It could be a hook or a thumb-finger or even something for recreation.

“We have made fishing rods to go in the N-Abler. It can be anything, so long as it has the proper tolerance and strength,” said Rouse.

In the last decade, much of the prosthetic market has gone to using high-strength aluminum and titanium, since they are lighter than stainless steel – the more traditional metal in mechanical prosthetics – and are strong as well.

“We tend to use an aircraft grade of aluminum, perhaps 70-75, which is low weight and high tensile strength, sometimes stronger than commercial grade titanium with one-third the weight,” said Rouse.

Even in myoelectric arms, like the Utah Arm created by Motion Control, Inc., of Salt Lake City, the aircraft grade aluminum is the standard for most mechanicallymachined parts.

“We have made attempts to do machined parts in plastic, but it has not been successful,” said Harold Sears, the president of Motion Control. “The strength to weight ratio is not good enough, and the plastic is too brittle when it comes to something people use a lot, like a prosthetic arm.”

Machinists make molds at an in-house factory for most of Motion Control’s products, said Sears. The Utah arm, because it is controlled by electronic sensors, has 916 parts, but much of that, he said, is circuitry and not machined parts.

“On the other hand, it is a bit of an urban myth that electronic parts are replacing everything in prosthetics,” said Sears, even though he manufactures those sophisticated electronic parts. “It is difficult to make an arm that is right for all occasions, and sometimes it is the older styles that are just right.”

In some cases, the prosthetics in use today are still a vestige of what was state-of-the-art in the middle of the 20th Century. There was a lot of research done on prosthetics during and right after World War II and the Korean War. Soldiers were coming home limbless and there was a social and practical need to find the best way to make them whole again.

Plastics and some carbon compounds were gaining in manufacturing of all sorts, but the primary material for prosthetics was stainless steel. The military, which was doing much of the research, was not into style. Most artificial arms and legs of the post-World War II era were strictly poles and pincers. They had easily-machined parts and it was mostly a one-size-fits-all scene. Stainless steel was durable if sometimes cumbersome, but it worked, and subcontracting parts was simple, since there weren’t many of them on each arm or leg. If a prosthetic allowed someone to walk or at least open a door, and it didn’t come apart too often, it was deemed good enough for use.

“Sometimes it wasn’t as sophisticated as that,” said Sarah McConvill, a development engineer for Otto Bock Health Care, one of the largest prosthetic manufacturers in the world, based in Germany but with facilities in Utah and Minnesota. “You often went to the prosthetist and he or she would take some big pieces of wood. The art was carving it down for a custom wooden prosthesis and using belts or straps to keep it on the stump. It was just an external wooden element that mainly acted for support. It was not very functional, but it filled the pant leg and allowed the person to walk.”

After the Vietnam War, though, according to Texas Assistive Devices‚ Rouse, research on artificial limbs went dormant.

“Universities had other things to do and, frankly, there wasn’t all that much of a market or a constituency to have better products,” said Rouse. “It certainly wasn’t sexy to be looking for a better artificial leg at the time.”

Yet like much else in the economy, the baby boom started to have an effect on the market. Diabetes and accidents and other traumas started happening to them, plus the Vietnam veterans, who were much more vocal than their World War II and Korean War counterparts about veterans’ benefits, wanted better choices for artificial limbs.

“The next big jump came in the late 1980s, when there were a couple of people deciding that these cool space-age carbon-fiber reinforced composites could be applied to a prosthetic foot,” said McConvill of Otto Bock. “They had these neat properties. They were light but strong. That was a huge jump. That is when you saw more amputees running or playing basketball or at least doing a normal level of activity.”

Sciullo, for instance, has carbon-fiber springs in his artificial feet. When he walks, the spring along the front part of his foot allows him to push down on what would be the ball of his foot, and as he steps forward, another spring in his “ankle” bounces the foot back. Once again, said Kanas, Sciullo’s prosthetist, these are simple machined parts.

Otto Bock’s version of the carbon fiber reinforced artificial foot.

“I order them from Otto Bock and each one is custom-made, depending on someone’s height or weight or activity level,” she said. “On the other hand, though, they are standard type parts.

“I don’t think you could just go to your local machine shop and pick up one, though,” she said, noting that this is a person, not a model car, who is using the part. “If this part wears out, I would want someone standing behind me who would fix it right away and correctly, so it’s good to have manufacturers like Otto Bock or some other long-term business there. Still, I guess, there are a lot of people out there who could do this kind of work if they find a market.”

Liberating Technologies found its own niche market in electronically powered upper arms. The Massachusetts company was spun off in 2001 from insurance giant Liberty Mutual, which decided it wanted to have control over some of the products they were insuring.

“There are not really all that many amputees each year, and of them, only 15 percent are upper limb, and only a portion of them need products like ours, elbows and shoulders,” said Bill Hanson, Liberating Technologies president. Unlike hands and feet, though, elbows and shoulders have few, if any, upper arm muscles to work with, so the advance into electronics is a boon to those who need that kind of prosthetic.

Hanson’s company does buy circuit boards and the electrodes that hook to the stump like EKG monitors, but they do the soldering in-house, either by hand or by machine. The Boston Arm, the flagship Liberating Technologies product, uses a standard three-phase brushless motor in the elbow, connected to the circuit board and the electrodes.

“We are forever battling the problem of weight. You can imagine what it was like to have a wooden or even a stainless steel arm. You really had no place to anchor it, so it was almost just a cosmetic thing,” Hanson said. He said that research is now going on to figure out how to get cheaper and more malleable titanium and have it essentially screw into a stump. “It’s done a lot in the dental field and more and more overseas. But people here are worried about infection, so it needs a bit more work.”

Back in Texas, Rouse said he mostly loves just refining his machine-shop products. Rouse said he is now using Mazak 5-10C machines for precision turning and is also using a Haas TL-1 for slightly less high tolerance work.

“The average tolerance in the industry is five-thousandths and a normal tolerance for parts for good prosthetics is one or two thousandths, but I like to hold plus or minus a couple of tenths of a thousandth,” he said with pride. “Each wrist we do has about 30 parts, and each N-Abler insert has another 10 or so, but you don’t want these wearing out all the time. It’s a person you are talking about here.”

Sciullo, who uses his left-hand hook and right-hand flapper device made by Kanas with great dexterity, said he isn’t interested in moving into electronic devices. He has a myoelectric arm, but keeps it in storage, rarely ever even trying to use it.

“If something wears on my mechanical limbs, I can see it coming beforehand or, even if it breaks, I can go to Joanne and someone can easily machine something for me,” he said. “If I were dependent on electronics, who knows? They would have to send it out and I would be without for maybe weeks, or at least days. Sometimes progress is not what it seems.”

The machinists like the feeling of custom work done immediately toward a greater end as well.

“Johnny and I had the opportunity to go to Walter Reed Hospital and talk to amputees who came from Iraq,” said Farquhhrson. “They just wanted to get their limbs and either go back to be with their platoons or get on with their lives. Some got sophisticated stuff, but others worked with machined limbs like ours.”

“It is a wonderful thing though, to make what is otherwise a simple item. I have a veterinarian, for instance, for whom we put in a scalpel part in the N-Abler, and now he can work like anyone else,” said his partner, Rouse. “What other machinist can make things like this that put lives back together?”

One on One with Mike Rowe of “Dirty Jobs”

by Noah Graff

Mike Rowe of "Dirty Jobs"

Mike Rowe hosts the Discovery Channel’s hit program Dirty Jobs. He’s leaped into a multitude of blue-collar occupations including some off-the-beaten-path jobs: Shark Suit Tester, Copper Foundry worker, and Road Kill Removal Specialist. No matter how disgusting, dangerous or strenuous the job, Rowe continues to approach it with enthusiasm.

NG: What jobs did you aspire to do when you were a kid?
MR: I honestly had no aspirations, at least none that I can recall. I mainly remember feeling panicked by the idea of doing any one particular thing for the rest of my life.

NG: What is the “dirtiest” job you’ve ever had to do?
MR: Removing a broken lift pump from a wastewater treatment facility has to be near the top of the list. Someone must enter the shaft from the bottom, swim through tons of human waste, climb to the top of the pump, and tie off a cable. Unforgettably bad.

NG: What’s the strangest job you’ve done – on or off the show?
MR: I worked the midnight shift at the QVC Cable Shopping Network for three years. I also sang in the opera for a few years. A great place to meet girls while dressed like a Viking.

NG: In what job have you felt most endangered for your life?
MR: Shark suit tester, lumberjack, coal miner, alligator farmer, golf ball recycler – in no particular order.

NG: What’s the most physically difficult job you’ve had to do?
MR: In terms of physical abuse, it’s hard to separate the agonies of railroad work from hot-tar roofing, or indoor deconstruction from blacksmithing. Anything that involves swinging a sledgehammer for 12 hours in a row is going to leave an impression.

NG: What is something that you would absolutely refuse to do?
MR: Direct.

NG: How do the people you are working with feel about their jobs?
MR:
The people I meet, by and large, appear happier, more balanced, and better adjusted than most of my friends with white-collar jobs. They genuinely seem to love what they do. Most of them seem to be in on some sort of joke that your typical professional doesn’t get.

NG: What’s the most important thing you’ve learned from all of the jobs you’ve had?
MR:
One of my favorite lessons is the importance of having visual cues in our daily work lives, and the forgotten benefits of working on a job that allows you the satisfaction of having actually done something. Bricklaying, road-kill removal, whatever. Seeing a finished product or the fruits of your labor is something a lot of the white-collar workforce no longer experiences, and it’s important.

NG: If forced to choose one job from the show as your lifelong occupation, which would you choose?
MR: I think I’d like to run the machines at a scrap metal yard. The magnet, the claw, the shredder; they are all very satisfying. Farming taro in Hawaii was also gratifying. I wouldn’t eat the poi, but farming the taro is good fun.

NG: How do you stay so upbeat and positive?
MR: I get to leave at the end of the day.

NG: If you could work alongside anybody living or dead for one day, who would that be?
MR: That’s a tough one. I’d like to navigate a riverboat with Mark Twain, or maybe drive some spikes with John Henry. I’d like to see if he really died with a hammer in his hand. Mostly, I believe I’d like to split some logs with my grandfather.

One on One with John Raztenberger

Interview by: Noah Graff

John Ratzenberger

John Ratzenberger is best known for his role as Cliff the mailman on Cheers. Today he hosts Made in America, a documentary-style television show on the Travel Channel in which he travels around the United States visiting American manufacturing companies and meeting factory workers. He also recently started the Nuts, Bolts and Thingamajigs Foundation to encourage and help kids develop the manual skills required to work in the manufacturing industry.

NG: John, tell me about your family background. What did your parents do?
JR: I grew up in a factory town. My mother worked in a factory, my dad drove a truck. I was a carpenter before I became an actor.

NG: Like Harrison Ford?
JR:
No, No, everyone says that, but Harrison Ford was a different kind of carpenter. I was a house framer, he was a fine carpenter. I actually did it for a living. I traveled around the country and throughout Europe building houses before I became an actor.

NG: Why did you start the Nuts, Bolts and Thingamajigs Foundation?
JR:
Traveling with my show, Made in America, it occurred to me after about 50 factory visits that the biggest problem [our country] is facing is the fact that kids now come out of high school without any manual skills. The average age of a factory worker is 52-years-old. So in six to 10 years, that’s it. And without people who manufacture things, there is no civilization. It’s over.

NG: Do you think in some ways we are headed in the right direction with TV shows like American Chopper and your show, and special technical Schools like Minuteman high school?
JR:
There certainly is a trend, but still, [regular] high schools don’t have shop courses anymore and TV shows are not going to change that.

NG: What’s your greatest fear for the future of manufacturing in the United States?
JR:
That we’ll become a slave nation to China and India. That we’ll have to do whatever they tell us to do, because without manufacturing we don’t have any power. None at all.

NG: What about the people who can only afford to shop at Wal-Mart because they need the cheaper goods made in China?
JR:
I think that’s a myth. I think there are a lot of people who just don’t have money management skills. I’ve been to some of those homes, there’s a lot of stuff just lying around. You don’t have to buy a new bicycle if it breaks, you can always fix it. That’s what we used to do and that’s what gave kids skills.

NG: Do you see things going in the right direction in any respects?
JR:
Not with the media. Any time you see a movie or a TV show, they depict someone who works with their hands as losers. Your job and my job are not important for the overall civilization. But if all the factory workers decided not to show up for work, or if all the heavy equipment operators decided not to show up for work, the country would collapse.

NG: What’s it like to live in Hollywood? You don’t exactly seem the type who would like it much.
JR:
Well, it’s not a place you’re going to raise goats. But you’re here for a reason; because that’s where the business is. It’s an industry. They have raw material coming in one end of the building and a finished product going out the other end, no different from any factory town.

NG: Thanks John.

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Peter Bagwell

Dear Shop Doc,
I have recently been asked if my shop does “micro” machining. I’ve done some work on small
parts recently, but I’m not exactly sure what is meant by “micro.” [...]

Mark Bos

Making parts faster doesn’t always mean cheaper
Mark Bos

By Mark Bos
In today’s difficult economy, we are all trying to make parts faster and cheaper. Unfortunately, making parts faster is sometimes at odds with making them cheaper.
I have learned [...]

Flavio Rovertoni

Shop Doc – When to go Hydromat
Flavio Rovertoni

Dear Shop Doc,
We are a new job shop looking to add some equipment. We are wondering whether we should invest in used rotary transfer machines like a Hydromat Legacy or [...]

Numberology

PM Report: What’s Left in The Fed’s Arsenal?

Sudeep Reddy and Neal Lipschutz break down comments today by Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke on the U.S. economy and look at what’s left in the Fed’s arsenal. Plus, Microsoft Co-Founder Paul Allen Sues Google and others over patents.

From the Wall Street Journal