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.