The Gorilla Incident

Wow!  It's been a long time since I've written a Slabs That Look Like Things post.  It only took 2 months of social isolation boredom for me to do it, but here it is!  You can take a look at the About page as a refresher of the premise, and my first post, Monster's Inc. is short and sweet.  But in order to appreciate the "gorilla incident" story, you should first understand what I do as a structural engineer.

What I do:

If you think of a building as a human form, the architect would be God - the ultimate creator. Most people think architects are only in charge of the skin/flesh of the building (that's what I thought).  But they have to make sure EVERYTHING works holistically.  But they can't possibly know EVERYTHING so they assemble a team of consultants to help them design the building.  And there are consultants for - you guessed it - EVERYTHING!  I'm still discovering new consultants.

Here are the heavy hitting consultants: Mechanical engineers are in charge of the lungs.  Electrical engineers are in charge of the nerves.  Plumbing and Civil engineers tag team the digestion system.  Us structural engineers?  We're the bones/skeleton consultants; we're pretty important.  We're kinda like God's right hand man.

<<You: "Did he just compare himself to Jesus?!">>

Several years ago, I found myself wanting more from my job.  Don't get me wrong. I loved designing slabs that looked like things, but I wanted to expand my horizons.  The natural next step was "construction administration."  That means I'd be the engineer who made sure the skeleton would be constructed as the original design engineers intended it to be built.  For example, if our structural drawings called for a 36 inch deep beam, and the contractor was trying to skimp and build a 35.75 inch deep beam, I'd have to make direct phone calls and write concise emails to set them straight.  

You know... real hero shit.

And I got my wish!  I was moved to a new project; the Burke Museum here in Seattle.  Because it was in Seattle, it meant that I could go to the construction meetings via a quick train ride, and a relaxing walk through the beautiful University of Washington campus.  This was welcome news since all of my jobs up to that point were in Hawaii or Miami, and as a young engineer, I never got to go there to interact with my clients face-to-face.

A little bit about the Burke:

According to my Wikipedia research, the Burke Museum has existed in one form or another on the University of Washington campus since 1899.  We were constructing its new digs right next to its previous building.  It's a really cool museum; for a time it housed one of the oldest human skeletons ever discovered in North America (which is a great story in itself).

The architect on the team is a homegrown Seattle super star architecture firm called Olson Kundig.  When your local millionaires complain that a new billionaire bought and bulldozed 3 of the homes nearby and built a sleek manor in their place, chances are Olson Kundig designed that new home.  Most of their clients are wrapped up in NDAs so I can't be sure who they are, but I bet some of their clients' names may rhyme with Jates, Vallmer, or Vezos.

The new Burke Museum is now built, and it has been a great success.  It was even featured in Architectural Record!  Here are some fancy images "borrowed" from that article and its photographer Aaron Leitz:

Check out that giant swinging door/wall at the cafe!  It's one of the coolest designs I've been part of.

One of the many glass-walled rooms.  This one peeks into storage.

The architects re-imagined how natural museums should be experienced.  Normally, all the scientists are hidden away in basements and dark rooms doing all their fun research while the patrons are being guided through carefully programmed tours above.  Where's the fun in that?!  Our architects recognized the missed opportunity and flipped it.  Now the scientists do their research in glass rooms that are visible to the curious eyes and minds of passing children (and adults) who are adventuring throughout the museum.

And don't worry.  We made sure the glass rooms are very secure; one room is the home to flesh eating beetles that the scientists use to "skeletonize" corpses.  As the museum receives a specimen that still has flesh on its bones, the scientists give the specimen to the beetles who go to town on the flesh for dinner while leaving the bones unscathed for the scientists to research later.  Pretty cool huh?  Could you imagine what would happen if those suckers got loose?

Back to construction administration:

So there I was, representing MKA in a face-to-face construction meeting.  And this was a big one too!  Construction was about to kick off in earnest and all the consultants were in the room reporting to ownership - representatives of the Burke Museum - about the status of their designs.

This is how the meeting went:

Consultant: "Here are a few discussion points I'll talk about."
Ownership: "Here are a couple softball questions for you."
Consultant:  "Here are convincing answers to your softball questions."
Ownership: "I'm convinced you know what you're doing."

Next consultant.

There were A LOT of consultants.  And frankly at that point in my career, I didn't understand most of what they were saying, so naturally my thoughts would drift away to lunch.

<<Me: "I wonder what the lunch special is today at Melange?  It'd be cool if they changed their name to Melange-a-trois.">>

But then my attention was brought back to the room when I realized one consultant wasn't following the meeting's script.  Ownership was grilling the waterproofing guys.  Weird.

Ownership: "Tell me about the waterproofing strategy in this room."

Waterproofing: "We are using [BLAH BLAH BLAH] product in there.  It'll be fine."

Ownership: "And what about the strategy in this room?"

Waterproofing: "We're also using the [BLAH BLAH BLAH] system in there as well."

Ownership: "And in this room?"

And so it continued.  The owners were asking in-depth questions about waterproofing in every storage room in the building.  Eventually they were satisfied with responses.

Ownership: "Phew. It sounds like you guys know what you're doing.  The last thing we want is a repeat of the gorilla incident."

.........

The room paused.

........

Waterproofing: "Don't worry sir.  You're getting the best of the best."

And then the next consultant dove into their discussion points and the meeting continued.

Um.... EXCUSE ME?! The "GORILLA INCIDENT?!"  My mind is screaming with follow up questions, but everyone in the room is pretending like this guy didn't just allude to an incident that involved a freaking gorilla!!

<<Me: "First flesh-eating beetles, and now a gorilla?!  And what happened with the gorilla that made this guy so worried about waterproofing?!  It doesn't make sense!  No one else is curious about this?!">>

I'm looking around the table to gauge the shock of my fellow consultants.  Everyone's got their 'no-time-for-nonsense' engineer face on, and I'm clearly the youngest, least experienced person in this room.  There's no way I'm gonna be the person to interrupt this meeting to ask him to explain the "gorilla incident."

And so the meeting continued.  I gave my structural spiel.  I was hoping to field a gorilla inspired question...

<<Ownership: "So if a 500 lb gorilla got loose and started doing pull-ups on this beam, would the structure hold?"

Me: "Good question.  Yes, it would hold.  In fact, that gorilla's entire CrossFit clan could do pull-ups on that same beam without a problem."

Ownership: "Phew!  Glad to hear it.  The last we want is a repeat of the gorilla incident."

Me: "Happy to help."

Ownership: "You're pretty heroic!"

Me:  "Not at all sir.  I'm just doing my job as a construction administrator.">>

...but sadly, I didn't.  Ownership liked my answers to their boring questions.  Next consultant.

The meeting ended and everyone started leaving.  Ownership started leaving.  I started leaving.  But I just couldn't handle it anymore; the tease was traumatizing.  I scooted by a couple other consultants to be able to walk next to Ownership.

Me:  "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but hear you mention a 'gorilla incident' in that meeting.  What happened?"

Ownership: "Ah yes.  Bobo."

<<Me: "The gorilla has a name!  Was Bobo doing pull-ups on the structure leading to a partial collapse?">>

Ownership: "Bobo was a very beloved gorilla at the local zoo who passed away in the 60s.  The Burke Museum has a reluctant contract with the zoo to bring in all of their animals that pass away.  When Bobo passed away, we received his body, but we weren't exactly sure what to do with him."

Me:  "Interesting.  So what DID you do with him?"

Ownership: "Well...while we were trying to figure that out, we put him in a giant freezer down in storage.  And frankly, as the years passed, we kinda forgot about him down there."

<<Me:  "Soon with your glass window work rooms, you'll be able to display him to the public a la Han Solo frozen in carbonite.">>

Ownership: "In 1975 there was a really bad windstorm that caused a lot of damage.  The museum was without power for 3 days!  When the power came back online, we went down to the storage room to inspect our artifacts in storage.  And once we got to the bottom of the stairs, we stepped in a few inches of goo on the floor.  It smelled awful."

<<Me: "ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod.....">>

Ownership: "As we sloshed through the room we were rescuing damaged artifacts that were stored low near the ground.  The damage was tragic.  We couldn't figure out where the goo came from until we opened a door to another room and saw Bobo's freezer in the corner - but only Bobo's skeleton was in the freezer.  Bobo's everything else was everywhere else."

<<Me: "Oh. My. God.">>

Ownership:  "That's why we want to make sure our waterproofing in our storage rooms are top-notch.  I really don't want a repeat of the gorilla incident."

A waterproofed storage room in the new building.

Wow.  What a start to construction administration!

While doing my research on Bobo I came across this great article written in 2000 that talks about Bobo's story.  Turns out, there was a 1950s version of Joe Exotic - but less crazy and cruel - who raised Bobo as part of his family.  As Bobo grew up though, he became a danger to the family, so he was given to the local zoo.  After having lived with humans over the years, Bobo inevitably picked up a lot of human behavior/skills (think reverse Tarzan).  And thus, Bobo became incredibly popular at the zoo.

"Before the Space Needle went up or the Pike Place market was redeveloped, before the Sonics or the Seahawks, Bobo WAS Seattle, and Seattle was infected by a mad passion, Bobomania."

The research also corrected my story that this freezer failure happened in the 1975.  I could have sworn Ownership told me that it happened in the mid-2000s.  If I indeed heard him correctly, he simply confused his gorilla incidents.  In 2006, Bobo's skull was returned to the Burke after decades of being stolen! Bobo's had a few of incidents.  Hard to keep 'em straight I guess.  My favorite sentence from the article:

"When the Burke's freezer broke down in 1975, Bobo's remains were quickly 'skeletonized' and his flesh discarded."

Haha.  You and I know the truth.  Bobo's body skeletonized itself and his flesh was discarded down the drain.  No flesh eating beetles required.

If you're ever in Seattle.  You should definitely check out the Burke Museum.  It's a brilliant space.  And, you can even check in on Bobo!  Who knows what he's up to these days.

And lastly, here's a slab that looks like a thing.  This slab comes from a building called North Edge here in Seattle.  It's now the global headquarters of Brooks running shoes.  This was my friend Andy's first project ever as a structural engineer.

The Lanyard Effect

A few years back I was visiting my brother, Tyler, and his family in Okinawa, Japan.  He works for the US government and was stationed in Hawaii-like Okinawa, so of course I gotta visit.  It was an absolute blast.  Beaches?  Check.  Sushi?  Check.  Diving with whale sharks?  Yep.  Vending machines on every block? Of course.

Shark selfie.

During some down-time, I was bragging to him about sneaking into a fancy event at an A's game back in Oakland.  All I did was confidently walk past security while they were helping someone else.  It was too easy and it had a huge reward; all-you-can-eat fancy food/drinks.  And it was all FREE.  It didn't matter that I had just eaten dinner.  I ate like 3 plates.  First pitch was about to be thrown and these fancy people started making their way to the elevators.

"Well...I gotta see where this takes me."

So I grabbed as much food/drink that I could carry and followed them onto the elevators.  While on the 20 second elevator ride I made friends with a guy by talking about the great baseball weather.  I got off on his floor and immediately someone is there checking for tickets.  We're first in line.  Uh oh.  He checks the ticket of my weather friend and then turns to me.

Security: "Ticket please."

I lifted up my hands to show they're full of free food and drink and can't reach in my pockets.  I then nodded toward my new friend and said, "I'm with him."

I didn't ask him if I could join him in his suite before then.  We literally spoke 2 sentences to each other 5 seconds ago.  I just said those words aloud without knowing how he'd react.  Luckily our friendship was strong enough where he responded,  "Yeah, he's with me."

Security: "Come on through."

So I enjoyed the game from a suite.  And later I got my friends up there too.  Not a bad con, huh Tyler?

Tyler: "It's the lanyard effect."

"Huh?  Lanyard effect?  What do you mean by that?"

Tyler: "All you need in life is a lanyard and confidence.  With those two things, you can do whatever you want.  Sometimes you only need one of them."

He tells me a story about one of his co-workers.  This guy was halfway through a flight from the US to Japan when he realized he didn't bring his passport (not sure how he got on the flight in the first place - might have been a military flight).  What a disaster!  He would have to get on another flight back to the US, get his passport, and then fly back to Japan.  That's like 3 wasted days and 1,000s of dollars!

He didn't have a passport, but he did have a lanyard!  Plus he had an official-looking work ID that he could fit in it.  So when the plane landed, he stuck his ID in the lanyard and got off the plane.  Upon arriving at customs, the agent asked for his passport, but he confidently ignored the request and showed his lanyard.

Customs agent: "Huh?"

Now I don't know the exact conversation, but he explained to the customs agent that he's a US government employee stationed at Okinawa and he didn't need a passport to enter (not true).  This agent probably sees many American defense guys entering the country each week - maybe even daily.  He definitely knows that can't be true, right?

Co-worker: "Look at my lanyard!  See?!  Can I get through now?"

They went back and forth for a bit, but his co-worker never once wavered in his confidence that he could enter without a passport.  Eventually the agent agreed with him and let him in.

Tyler: "See?  Lanyard + Confidence = Authority.  You belong no matter what."

And it's so true.  When you're wearing a lanyard, you're showing that you have some authority.  People's guard is down when they see you're wearing a lanyard.  Add that yeah-I'm-wearing-a-lanyard-try-and-stop-me confidence, and boom, you're probably allowed wherever you're trying to go.

Pause in the story to appreciate a couple slabs that looks like things.  Since Okinawa is a military base, here are a couple apropos slabs.  The first is brought to you by Joey P. in the office; we've mostly worked on different floors so I don't know him very well, but I think we're similar people.  He has contributed to both my slab collection and my office celebrity look-alike collection.

The second is cheating a little bit.  It's actually a floor plan that I saw at a hotel here in Seattle and instantly got jealous of the engineer who designed it.  I didn't design it, nor did anyone I know, but it looks like a thing!

Now back to the lanyard effect!  Tyler told me that story several years ago, and I loved it.  Fast forward to last week.  My co-worker Mike is from Philadelphia, and since the Phillies were in town, he organized a fun night at the baseball game.  Remember my thoughts on GDPAF?  I'm in.

Up on the big screen, they show, "Safeco Field welcomes country music star, Trace Adkins!"  Then they show Trace Adkins in his suite and he waves to the crowd and everyone cheers.  I cheer.  Now I'm not a huge Trace Adkins fan or anything.  I actually don't know any of his songs, nor do I know what he looks like.  But after living a lifetime by introducing myself as Trace, many, many people follow with, "Oh.  Like Trace Adkins?"

"Yeah, like Trace Adkins."

Those people are generally good people, so I project that Trace Adkins must be an okay guy as well. Whether he knows it or not, he's a big part of my life.  I tried to tell him this a few years back.  I think Trace's gotta stick together, ya know?

As you can see, he didn't respond to my attempt.  Don't feel bad.  I didn't expect him to.  But now he's at Safeco.  And I'M at Safeco!  How many times in my life am I going to be in the same building as Trace Adkins?  I gotta meet him!  I brush up on my Trace Adkins trivia with my co-workers - I study his picture, listen to half of Honky Tonk Badonkadonk, and they tell me he was on Celebrity Apprentice - I'm good to go.

"See ya guys.  I'm going to meet Trace Adkins."

I go up to one of the suite level entrances and I see an older gentleman checking tickets.  As I approach I can see this guy must be living his dream retired life; working at the Mariner's home games watching some baseball and helping people to their seats.  I decide I'm gonna go the honesty route.  I'm just going to lay it out there to this guy, and of course he'll let me in.  So I explain to him that my name's Trace, and Trace Adkins' name is Trace, and how rare that is, and how Trace and I should talk about it.

Happy retired guy: "That's nice.  But I can't let you in.  No way.  Imagine if we let everyone in who has the same name as whatever celebrity is visiting.  They'd be harassed nonstop.  Go back to your seat."

Well I can't argue with that.  Objectively he's just right, even I can see that.  But then I remember...Lanyard Effect.

So I regroup.  No lanyard, but confidence will have to suffice.  I can't try that same security guard.  He'll remember me.  I scout out another entrance and I see who I can only assume to be retired guy's sweet retired wife checking tickets.  I've done this before in Oakland.  I can sneak into a baseball suite.  So I wait while she's busy helping someone and I walk confidently past her, as if I just momentarily stepped out to use the restroom.  I pass her, but she sees me, and about 3 steps later she calls out for me.

Retired wife: "Sir?  Excuse me, sir?  Can I see your ticket please?"

Blast.  I've been caught, but I'm committed - act like it's not a big deal.  I return and I tower over her,

"Oh I don't have a ticket.  I'm in Trace's suite.  Can you direct me to Trace's suite?"

Retired wife: "Oh.....I don't know about that.  Let me get my manager.  Oh perfect, here she comes right now."  The manager comes over to us, Big Gulp in hand.

"My name's Trace (I show her my driver's license to prove it - closest thing to a lanyard I've got) and I'm heading to Trace Adkins' suite.  Can you direct me where to go?"

Manager: "No I can't."

Defeat.

Manager: "But we can go to the concierge and they can tell us where to go."

"That would be great, thanks."  We walk over to the concierge - another sweet retired lady.

Manager: "Can you tell me which suite Trace....Ecks is in."

I realize she doesn't know who Trace Adkins is.  She might very well think that I'm Trace Adkins. Showing my license paid off.

Concierge:  "Huh?  Do you mean our....vocalist for the evening?"  She stretched out the word vocalist in a way that only fangirls do.

I chime in before the manager and concierge can discuss who Trace Adkins is.  "Yes. That's the one."

Concierge: "Suite 61."

We start walking over to suite 61.  We're passing other, meaner looking security guards on our way over, but no matter, I'm a VIP being escorted to my suite.  As we pass suite 56 I speak up,

"Thank you so much for your help.  I can take it from here."

Manager:  "Oh that's okay.  I'll take you to the suite.  It's part of the security process, you know?  Imagine if we let just anyone come in here."

I chuckle to myself a little bit at the irony.

Manager: "Here we are.  Suite 61."

She starts knocking on the door, and now I start panicking.  How on earth did I get here?  I can't believe this worked! Trace Adkins is 20 feet on the other side of this door...what am I going to say?!  Play it cool.  Play it cool.

The security guard manning the door approached us.  Damn.  This guy is a real security guard.  He could crush me in a second.  He towers over me,

Door guard: "Are you expected?  I wasn't told of any guest visits."

I meekly respond, "No, he's not expecting me.  I'm just coming by to say hi.  That's all.  My name's Trace and I wanted to meet him."

As we're talking we have to make room for a server with a cart full of free food to pass by.  The guard opens the door for him.  I can see Trace's party!  He's right there!  I wanted to shout out right then, "Trace! I'd like to meet you!"  But I didn't; I was too scared.  The door closes behind the server.

Door guard: "If he's not expecting you, you can't come in the suite.  Please leave."

The manager finally catches up to reality, and turns against me.

Manager:  "You have to leave.  I'll escort you out."

We start walking toward the exit.  Defeat.  But so close.  If only I had a lanyard!!

#dontbetabootalkaboutpoo

#dontbetabootalkaboutpoo might be my favorite hashtag ever.  Unfortunately I can't take credit for it; I wish I could.  I don't know who created it, but it first came to my attention from Sonya, one of my "civil" coworkers.  She has posted it a few times on our company's intranet and it remains an active link on it (whereas all my attempted hashtags have been frustratingly nixed due to "non-relevance").

You: "Wait, wait, wait.  Back up.  Civil?  What does that mean?  What does she do?"

Well, MKA's main engineering service is structural engineering - which is what I do - but we also have a pretty great civil engineering team.  To simplify it, civil engineering is when you control water as it enters and leaves your building site.  A sexy part of that job is controlling "blackwater" which is water + piss/shit.  

We've all been there.  You've just eaten lunch about an hour ago and you feel the need to dispose of your stockpiled waste to make room for new waste.  Plus, you welcome a mental break to scroll through salty Trump posts on Facebook, bragging friends on Instagram (guilty), pointless stuff on Snapchat, or maybe you take advantage of the moment to swipe left or right on Tinder before you wipe up and down (also guilty).  Or perhaps best of all you decide to catch up on the latest slab on STLLT.

As you flush away your break time, your waste embarks on a journey.  It leaves your building (MKA-Civil's role), enters the city's sewer pipes, and eventually arrives at the sanitation plant looking like delicious chocolate milk.  Its journey concludes here where it finally gets treated and turned into harmless pathogen-free water.  None of that happens by accident.  Although not glamorous, this process is one of the greatest inventions of humanity.  In fact, within our civil engineering world we often like to brag to ourselves that "civil engineers have saved more lives than doctors," because of this very invention.  There is a surprisingly large amount of people in the world who don't have this luxury.

Each year, I anxiously await for November 19th to roll around to see Sonya's post informing the office that it's World Toilet Day and how we can help further sanitation in developing countries.  With a master stroke she simultaneously catalogs the post, and puts a smile on everyone's face by using the hashtag #dontbetabootalkaboutpoo.  World Toilet Day is the best holiday because of:

1) its logo (see below)

2) all of its punny topics ("Urgent Run," "Raise a Stink," "Talk Shit")

3) it's a good cause that saves lives in a literal sense

On November 19th I inevitably think of something an old high school friend told me.  His fraternity had a goal of using every stall on their campus within a year.  They got maps of all the buildings on campus and they divvied up the stalls to their brothers (frat-talk I think).  While out at class, if they got an urge, they'd be sure to cross campus if needed to use one of their unexplored stalls.  I know, I know, it sounds like a very frat thing to do, but... I liked that idea a lot.

So much so that I decided to do it for my own building.

I've shared the results of my research on this link.  It took a long time but I achieved my goal.  It came with a cost.  I had several awkward elevator conversations to explain to coworkers why I wasn't heading to one of MKA's floors.  But overall, I think it was worth it as can be seen by my trophy:

I found that floor 34 was the best bathroom within the building for cleanliness and privacy.  Often my entry triggers the motion sensor to turn on the lights - even during prime time - which suggests it's rarely used.  This is due to the fact that the companies on that floor are female dominant and the floor is partially vacant.  Floor 30 also performs well for the same reasons.  The worst bathroom was clearly the White Pages' bathroom (yes I was surprised they still exist too) on floor 16 which appeared to have missed a renovation that all the other bathrooms in the building underwent.

I challenge you to endeavor on a similar goal.  Make sure all the stalls in your building are in proper working order.  After you flush, appreciate the fact that functioning sewer systems are pretty much a guaranteed thing where you live/work (hopefully it is).  Best yet, help out with efforts to expand that service.  Let me know how it goes, and I'll tell Sonya.

Lastly, I don't want to leave you without a slab that looks like a thing.  Since this wasn't a beautiful topic, I'll share some of the more beautiful entries I have received.  These come from my coworker Luke.  Luke and I took each others places within the company earlier this year.  He replaced me in the "retail" group and I replaced him in "cultural" group.  He left big shoes to fill and I've enjoyed the opportunity.  Luke presents: "Dumbo Looking at his Reflection in a Puddle" and "Blooming Flower."

Correction:

Another coworker, Lily, first used the hashtag #dontbetabootalkaboutpoo within a comment of one of Sonya's posts.  Sonya has since used it within her post in subsequent years.  STLLT regrets the error.

I Ain't Afraid of No ____

Are you easily frightened?

Aside from the daily scare I experience at work of someone suddenly appearing at my side - like a ghost - to talk to me, I'm a pretty cool cat.  My last "nightmare" was a work-related nightmare where I forgot to account for torsion at a roof beam.  Scary stuff.  I willingly suspend my disbelief during horror movies (which I love) to experience fright.  I tell my friends that I'm afraid that Draymond Green might kick me in the nuts, but it's not true.  There aren't many animals that scare me.  Which may not be a good thing.

For example, I don't get the concept of a guard dog.  Dogs are cute, lovable, and fun.  I've never met a dog in my life where I thought to myself, "If we got in a fight, you'd kill me before I'd kill you."  Not once, not ever.  In every dog fight that I've simulated in my brain, I come out the victor.  People tell me not to test that theory.  They assure me that some dogs could kill me, but I don't buy it.

Especially not this dog:

This slab that looks like a happy dog wagging its tail comes to us courtesy of Miss Garras, which means Miss Claws in English.  Miss Garras is working on the Washington State Convention Center expansion here in Seattle and this perro was one of her slabs.  Seattle keeps losing obscure conferences to our Vancouver and Portland neighbors.  Not anymore!

Back to being afraid....

About a year ago, I read "Lone Survivor."  It's a great book about a Navy Seal who survived a firefight in Afghanistan - it's also a movie with Marky Mark.  One unimportant detail from that book has dominated my thoughts from time to time.  As a teenager, this guy would wrestle alligators at his home in Texas for fun.

I couldn't believe it!  That's definitely something I AM afraid of.  If I saw an alligator, I'm instantly running away and leaving behind my slower edible loved ones. Then I thought to myself, "Maybe alligators aren't as scary as I think they are.  This guy wrestles them for fun!  They can't be too scary if he does that." But after polling other people at the water cooler about their thoughts on alligators, I determined I was right to begin with.  Gators are bad news.

While that was heavy on my mind, I was invited to a house in the beautiful San Juan Islands.  For those of you who aren't familiar with Washington state, the San Juans are beautiful glacier carved islands in that confusing part of Washington that eventually turns into Canada.

Photo cred: Sara "can-you-take-me" Hyer.  I clearly had spacing confusion in this picture.

While we were out there, we went crabbing.  Keep in mind, I come from a landlocked state that is geographically the farthest possible place from any ocean on the North American continent.  So needless to say, I've never been crabbing.  I was super excited.

Crabbing involves a few simple steps.
1) Lower cages with bait down to the ocean floor
2) Wait a day for crabs to unwittingly walk into your trap
3) Return and raise your cages to the boat
4) Pull the crabs out, toss the females, keep the males, and store them in a cooler full of water
5) Bring those delicious crustaceans to your home and eventually your plate

So there we were, cruising around the bay, pulling up these crabs, throwing back the lucky females, and keeping the males for dinner.  The red ones, I'm told, are to be handled with care.  They're dungeness crabs and have strong pincers.  Whatever.  I may be from North Dakota, but I'm a quick learner and a pro already.  I was grabbing these things from the cage, inspecting their genitalia, and then throwing them around all casual-like.

Then one of the big red ones - a male - was putting up a decent struggle.  He's wriggling around and pushing himself free from my grip with his legs.  Nope.  He's not escaping my grasp.  So I re-position my grip, moving my hand higher on his shell and firmly grabbing him; he's going nowhere.

Then I felt his pincer find my finger.

"Uh oh."

He started squeezing.  Slowly at first....

"Oh.  This ain't so bad."

...then he clamped down.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

via GIPHY

It was one of those pains where all your senses just stop and all you feel is pain emanating from one spot (likely similar to Draymond Green kicking you in the nuts).  I immediately let him go and flicked him off my finger after a few attempts.  It lasted only a few seconds, but my body was immediately exhausted, and my finger was in intense pain for a long time afterward.

Before that day, I was never afraid of crabs.  After that day, well...I'm cautious and a little vengeful toward them.  I thought back on the alligator wrestling, Taliban fighting, Navy SEAL and wondered if he's afraid of crabs.  Probably not.  I wondered how many other people are afraid of crabs in general.  And how do crabs compare to spiders, snakes, and alligators.  What animals are the scariest?

When I returned to work, I made a survey of 10 animals and gave it to about 20 of my coworkers to rate their relative scariness.  People weren't afraid of crabs.

I was like them once.  Not afraid of crabs.  They just don't know how much pain they can cause, otherwise they would be, right?

What makes a person afraid of an animal?  Does knowledge and experience (or lack thereof) with an animal increase or decrease fear?  Does one's upbringing play a part?  Gender?  Or are some people simply born brave - like that Navy SEAL - while others are simply born afraid?

I've recreated the survey I gave my coworkers.  Take the quiz below in the name of science.  It might save your life one day.

(After hitting "SUBMIT" scroll back up to get a link that will show you the results.  Or access it via this link for better formatting.)

Scroll up to see results!

RUN!!

I know I promised Slabs That Look Like Things wouldn't attempt important topics, but I lied.  This is the first of a two-part series where we discuss our emotions.  More specifically, we'll discuss the powerful emotion of fear.  The intent is to gain emotional intelligence - and then we'll look at a slab that looks like a thing to comfort us afterward.

This slab that looks like a thing comes from my PIC Andy.  For those of you not familiar with the business side of the engineering world, "PIC" means "Principal in Charge."  These important people own the company, bring in work through a network built over a lifetime, organize teams to perform the work, and make sure the company runs smoothly.  Without them - there is no MKA.  It's quite an achievement to be a PIC.

But Andy isn't that type of "PIC."  He's my "Partner in Crime."  You think I'd share this blog with my bosses?!  Please.  They'd probably get mad at me and say the word "insurance" at some point.

Andy and I go back to pre-MKA days believe it or not.  We were actually classmates, study-buddies, and good friends at Berkeley.  We just understood each other.  For example: while most of our classmates were feverishly studying for finals during "dead week," Andy, our friend Marco, and I were in Tahoe holed up in a cabin snowboarding (thanks Hilary!).  I would regret that later while I was taking a particular final or two.

But then again, maybe I don't.  All's well that ends well:

Andy and I have been through a lot together.  We got hired at the same firm so we both live in Seattle now.  We've been camping, toured the PNW, played on hockey teams together, soccer teams together, and this summer we went to the San Fermin festival in Spain and RAN WITH THE BULLS!

You: "Trace, that sounds pretty dumb, and pretty scary.  Why'd you do it, and were you scared?"

Good questions.  I get variations of these questions a lot.  Why'd I do it?  I never once considered the Running of the Bulls something that real people actually did.  For me, it occupied the same mental space as the moon landings: it's real, it's a thing, but no one actually does it, right?  Throughout my life I had never met anyone who had actually done it.  Nor had I even heard about anyone ever who had done it; like, "Oh yeah, my friend's cousin did that in the 90s!"  Not even that.  The bull run was just a thing that happens to faceless, nameless people that don't exist in my world.

Then my world turned upside-down when my old high school friend, Jake, randomly texted me and asked if I wanted to run with the bulls with him.  It was the first time in my life that I considered this impossible feat - like walking on the moon - was something I could actually do.  And I really liked the idea of achieving the impossible.

But holy shit, it was dumb.

A year later, Andy and I were getting in our position along Calle Estafeta with only minutes remaining before the bulls would be released (Jake ended up buying a house and couldn't come, so Andy came instead).  We were anxiously listening to our 'aficionado' friend, Eugene, that we met the night before.  He was coaching us up with last minute instructions.

Eugene: "As soon as you hear the second rocket, that means the bulls have cleared the corral and are in the street."

Everyone around us is psyching themselves up for what was about to happen.  Pacing.  Jumping around.  Yelling.  Like an excited football team ready to leave their locker room to do battle on the field.  But our excitement was fueled by fear instead of competition.  Luckily we had a former college running back telling us how this game's played.

Eugene:  "Everyone's afraid here, so as soon as you hear the second rocket, you'll find that people will immediately start running even though the bulls won't get to our spot for another minute and a half.  Those guys are <CENSORED>!!  They'll beat the bulls to the arena.  And they'll be boo-ed as they enter.  We don't want that.  We want to time it so we're running with the bulls as they enter the arena!"

I take in my surroundings.  Scared people everywhere.  We're in such a narrow, European-looking street.  The super old buildings go right up to the road.  "I wonder what their slabs look like?" Kidding.  I didn't think that.  Everywhere I look, people were on their balconies looking down to us.  Recording us.  Taking selfies with the tense crowd below in the background.  "This must be what it feels like to be in the Olympics!" That I did think.

Eugene:  "It's gonna get really confusing cuz everyone's gonna start running, and we won't be able to see the bulls.  The way to time it is by looking at the people's cameras on the balconies up above."  He then points to the balconies about 50 ft up the road.  "They're tracking the bulls.  When their cameras are looking directly downward, it means the bulls are even with them.  And that's when we go!"

Eugene: "You won't outrun the bulls, so as you hear them coming up to you, move to the side and run alongside them.  If it all works out, we'll be at their sides as we enter the arena."

Coaching over.  Just waiting now.  Anxious waiting.

Then we heard a rocket scream in the distance.  Rocket #1.  Bulls are being released.  "Oh my gosh, this is happening!!"  About 10 seconds later, rocket #2 explodes.  The bulls are in the street.  You could feel the level of fear elevate instantly.  Just as predicted, several people couldn't stand it any longer, and just started running.  It started with only a few.  Then as the seconds wore on, more and more people couldn't take it, and just started to run.

Eugene:  "Don't go!  Wait for them!"

Then you could start hearing the bells the bulls were wearing.  That's when people really started losing it.  The angry clanging grew louder and louder.  Soon we became a rock in a river of people.  All we could see in front of us were people running toward us, then rushing by our sides when they realized we weren't moving.  I was so scared.  Then the people on the balconies up ahead started moving their cameras as the bulls passed them.

Eugene: "NOW! RUN!!"

Andy and I instantly joined the mob of people running away from danger.  The bells were so loud - they were right behind us.  And they were getting louder.  People started falling.  People started pushing slower runners out of their way.  Others raced to the walls of the buildings and tried climbing their way out of harm.  Absolute madness.  And in that moment, I experienced a new emotion that I had never felt before.  Group fear.

We've all been afraid at the movies.  We've probably had scary things happen to us.  I personally have been in a situation where I genuinely feared for my life.  But this was different.  It was thousands of people afraid together.  I had never seen true "every man for himself" behavior with real stakes involved.  It was scary, and ugly.  And as I was running I thought, "This must be what a terror attack is like."  Of course a terror attack would be a million times worse.  Every runner voluntarily put himself there, knew exactly what to expect, had months of mental preparation, and realistically the chances of death are very small.  I can't pretend to know the other horrors that would cross your mind during a terror attack.

I lost track of Andy and Eugene.  I was avoiding people to their left, right, sometimes over them as they were falling in front of me.  The bells were deafening behind me and I started moving to the side.  Perfect timing!  I was on the final stretch, and about to enter the arena with the bulls!  Only a couple hundred feet left.  I was now inside the stadium's corridor about to enter, and the first bulls are by my side!

Final 100 ft.  Someone tripped in front of me.  Shit.  As I'm jumping over him, he starts getting up and catches my foot in the air.  I'm finished.  I slam into the pavement about 4 to 5 feet from the bulls' path and my face is pointed toward them.  I have this image ingrained in my memory of a bull running, furiously breathing, its giant bell ringing, and as it passed me, it lowered its horns for its final charge into the arena.

I'm the guy looking at the bulls as I'm tripping over another guy.  On the right side, near the front.  Right above the guy hugging the fence.  The light at the end of the tunnel is the arena.

Pretty dumb, huh?

I stayed on the ground as the bulls passed me by and about 4 more people tripped over me (they tell you to stay on the ground if you fall - safer apparently).  I got up, collected myself and ran into the arena right behind them and heard the roar of the crowd cheering on the bulls, and I thought, "This is what it must have felt like to be a Gladiator!"  The bulls crossed the arena and filed into their new, and final corral where they'd await their own gladiator battle against the macho bullfighters.  A battle which they'll lose.

I went to our prearranged meeting spot in the arena.  Andy was there already.  Then Eugene met us later.  We did it!!  Success!  It was old hat for Eugene - his 30th run, or something ridiculous like that.  But for me, I felt like I had just walked on the moon.

I only had minor scrapes and bruises from my fall.  No big deal.  But I then I realized I lost my phone in the fall! Shoulda found white linen pants with zipper pockets.  That made for an inconvenient remainder of the trip.  But some girls found my phone, selfied, got in touch with me, and mailed my phone to me in Seattle!  Pretty cool huh?  It still worked, but was pretty banged up.  I would tell girls later that a bull stepped on me during the run and my phone saved my life.  It now serves as my favorite coaster.

Here's a link to a video of our entire run.  I'm in the mess of people falling at about the 2:00 mark.

Okay.  Now that you know who Andy is, I'll show you his slab.  He was aware that I have a hobby of finding and collecting slabs that look like things, and sure enough, he found one!  This one comes from a study done on potential structure in San Francisco.  Sadly, I don't think it's getting built.  It's a toucan!

Meet Virginia

Some people have told me that my first post, Monsters Inc., was the Kitty Hawk for structural engineers finding a voice in America.  But others might try and correct me - "But Trace, we all watched and loved season 1 of Prison Break before you even entered a college classroom."

And you're right.  Michael Scofield was pretty bad ass.

But I'd say that seasons 2-4 turned America against structural engineers a la Trump to the GOP.  It was time to re-find that voice.  I'd like to think that STLLT may have prepped America for a reboot of Prison Break in 2016.  You're welcome.

So in the spirit of giving structural engineers their voice, this will be the first of a few posts that are slabs that look like things found by other engineers.  I don't have quite as much to write about their discovery - since I didn't discover them - but I have my thoughts regardless.

STLLT Submission #1:

This first one comes from Katelin.  Remember her?  She basically trained me at my job for my first few months.  She is also responsible for 2 of my 4 most regrettable days at work:

1) First, she challenged me to a donut eating time trial.  Ugh.

2) Then she challenged me to eating the leftover sugar from a giant tub of Sour Patch Kids in one gulp.  Nasty!

3) I didn't need to be challenged to have 3 shaved ices on shaved ice day.  That misery I brought on myself.

4) And finally Jeff, another coworker, challenged me to shave my beard into a mustache and bleach it for the holidays.  Wait, nix that one from this list.  No regrets there.

After I discovered Sully's face on my Park Lane project, she was one of the first people I showed.  We loved it.  Then she broke the news that Sully's face was not the first ever slab to look like a thing.  Similar to the Columbus being bested by Leif Erikson, I had been beaten to being the first to discover something great.  I swallowed my pride and asked to see the slab.  Katelin and another engineer had discovered a slab that had an eerie resemblance to Gumby.  As a purist, I would never adulterate a slab (red markings) to make it look more like something, but I didn't have control of the picture.  My apologies.  But it's pretty good, huh?  I think their title is "Gumby in a Bikini."

Some you are wondering, "Trace, why is her slab so much more colorful than yours?  I like it."  Good question.  And I do too.

That slab shows anticipated slab 'deflections' - or how much we think the concrete floors will dip after say...5 years.  It's something we calculate often.  If you lived in that purple zone, over the course of several years, you may find yourself sliding into your window.  Not good.  But don't worry, this slab got fixed.

STLLT Submission #2:

Another submission came from my coworker Zack.  Zack is from North Carolina and found his way to Seattle by means of Texas, but somehow doesn't have any accent.  I once told my coworker, Sarah, that Zack and I are pretty much the same person.  She retorted - "Um, you look nothing alike, and you have completely different personalities.  So no.  You're not."  Then I thought about it for a second, and she was right.  Why did I feel like Zack and I were the same guy?!  During karaoke at the MKA holiday after-party I found out.  King Kunta started playing and Zack and I both erupted singing along.  It was just the first of many songs we both sang when others stayed silent.

His submission required a judgment call on my part to see if it qualifies.  It does.  It's a snippet of internal forces within a slab.  The slab itself doesn't actually look like a thing, but its forces do.  That's cool in my book.  That slab's forces look like Zack's neighboring state of Virginia!

Strangely this slab that looks like a thing brought me back to a middle school memory.  It was my very first concert of my life.  My good friend, Ryan, and I bought tickets to see Matchbox Twenty at the world's greatest stadium: the Fargodome.  Opening for Matchbox Twenty was a little band named Train.  They just had their first big hit - Meet Virginia and I really liked that song.

Unfortunately that concert scared me from concerts for a long time afterward.  First off, it was really loud to my young ears.  And then there was that 50 year-old drunk guy next to us, who tried teaching us the art of checking out women without them realizing it - "See you gotta maintain eye contact for as long as possible, and then when they get close enough to break eye contact - BOOM! You check 'em out!"  Interesting enough, he was actually pretty bad at his own advice ogling every passing girl from a great distance.  Then two 30 year-old women sat on our laps, told us we were cute, kissed us on our cheeks, and then scrammed!  Obviously we were bragging about that afterward, but inside I was scared and didn't want to go to another concert.  But I never stopped liking that song.

So there's that.  I'm just trying to help structural engineers find their voice.  If you're reading this and want to submit your own slab that looks like a thing, just get in touch with me and we'll get it up there.  If not, just read, enjoy, and prep yourself for Prison Break.

Ship Happens

As long as there'll be buildings, I'll be comin' back again.

Can you remember your first day of work at your first real job?  What was it like?  If it was anything like mine, you were probably nervous as hell walking through the front doors.  I got in the elevator, hit 32, and thought to myself, "I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing."

As the elevator filled with people, the man next to me dropped something he intended in putting in his pocket.  It wasn't anything important, possibly trash even.  I picked it up and gave it to him, saying, "Oh hey, you dropped this."  He responded, "Thank you!"  It was a simple interaction, but my mind was swirling; "Is this my future boss?  Is this the right foot that I needed to start on?  We'll look back on this with fond memories."  Then he got off on 25.  Damn!  A good deed wasted!

After arriving on 32, HR greeted me and did their HR thing, and eventually I was directed to my desk.  I couldn't believe it.  Although not technically a "window seat," our cubicles have low-walls, so I could look out onto the heart of downtown Seattle.  It was a bright and beautiful day - and for a moment - I forgot to be nervous.

I miss those days:

Anyways, Danya (my real boss) came over and started talking about the project I was going to be working on - Waiea Tower.  Whoa!  It was super cool, and I realized that I scored big.  The side of the building undulates like the waves of the ocean (which is only a block away).  He told me that it was a super fancy condo tower that will be sold to 1%-ers who will be there for only one or two weeks of the year.

Danya: "See all these people on the streets in these renderings?  It won't be like that in real life at all.  It'll sit empty for most of the year. <sigh>  But hey!  Look how cool it looks!"

I could tell I was going to like him.

My first task would be to design the penthouse that was going to break the Hawaii real estate record for - You Have Too Much Money, Give It To Me.

What does your condo need for it to qualify for Hawaii's YHTMM, GITM record?  Well, for starters it's on the 35th floor with a protected view of the ocean across the street.  You've got a helicopter?  That's cool, cuz your penthouse comes with a helipad.  That comes in handy if The Rock needs to rescue you from a tsunami, or you need to have a secret chat with Leo.  Want an infinity pool that blends into the oceanic horizon so you don't know where your pool ends and the ocean begins?  That comes standard.  What about "lanai space" you ask?  (In Hawaii exterior decks are called lanais).  It comes with over 1000 square feet of lanai space - which happens to be about twice the size of my one-bedroom apartment in Seattle.

Out came the trace-paper (translucent paper, not my personal brand of paper) and he started sketching out design suggestions.

Danya, "We'll put a column here, here, here,...., and here.  Put some beams here, here, here,....., and here.  Lateral system will go here, and here.  Definitely not there, right?  <hahaha>" (I faked like I understood the joke and laughed too) "And we'll cantilever this lanai, like this.  So...I think that should get you started.  I'll let you take this and run with it.  Figure out what all this needs to be for it to work."

I had this overwhelming panic sweep my body.  Like the kind of panic you had as a teenager when you had to tell your parents you wrecked their car.  He was about to leave, and I had not the slightest idea of what my next move was going to be.  How long should I wait before going up to him and saying, "Hey Danya.  I'm a failure.  I don't have a clue on how to do this.  Can you help me, or should you just fire me now?  Please don't fire me.  I'm a really good guy!  I even helped out some guy on the elevator on my way up here this morning."  Should I wait 10 minutes before starting that conversation?  Half hour?  Maybe I'll push it to an hour and enjoy this view while I still have it.

But before he left, he said, "And don't worry.  Katelin will help you every step of the way." 

On cue, Katelin  arrived and introduced herself.  Wow.  What a hero!  Katelin rescued me that day, and for many more days, weeks, and probably months after that day.  Don't worry, Katelin will show up again in a future post.

You, "ENOUGH TALKING, LET'S SEE THIS SLAB THAT LOOKS LIKE A THING!"

Sheesh, don't yell!  It's coming!  I just wanted to share what my first day of work was like.  This slab was quite literally the first thing I ever worked on in my professional career.  So it has a special place in my heart.

This penthouse has undergone countless design iterations; the architects can't stop fiddling around with it.  In fact, I worked on it this week!  Anyways, it was eventually turned into a concrete structure, and got even bigger.  A few months ago, I was pivoting my slab and looked at it from a new angle, and I saw it.  It's a freaking tug boat!

P.S.  Here's a pretty cool video that I shared on Facebook awhile back.  It's a construction update on Waiea Tower.  Construction pictures/videos are the best because they haven't covered up the beautiful concrete with the architect's stuff.