Did I mention it was dirty? I don't remember getting a uniform, but I could wear jeans and a t-shirt because they wouldn't be recognizable by the end of my shift. There were two types of color concentrates --- a powdered dye and coloring beads. The dye was made by mixing ingredients in a huge vat. Noisy and dirty. And sweaty, but fortunately my sweat didn't affect the colors. The beading process was more fun and not as dirty.
Several bags of powdered dye were dumped in a bin, mixed with water, then extruded into a long water trough about ten feet in length. Four strings of soft plastic would emit from the extruder at the same time, side by side. The trick was to move the strings along the trough, using wooden paddles, as the plastic cooled and hardened. At the end of the trough the strings were quick-dried by a powerful blower, then chopped into quarter-inch beads.
Panic buttons were everywhere, and panic I did. Strings would end up going everywhere. Water splashes abounded. I felt like I was in an I Love Lucy skit. I don't think I prayed, but I probably should have. The bosses were patient, and I finally learned how to operate the beast. This may have been a testing period because shortly after mastering the process, I was moved into the lab.
The lab was cool. By that I mean it was air-conditioned, and it was very interesting. The lab process began with receipt of a color swatch from the customer. One client was Oscar Meyer Company, who wanted a particular yellow for their bologna packages. Another was Brut; they wanted a specific green for their aftershave container, but it had to be translucent, so that the colored liquid would appear to be clear.
The challenge was to mix ingredients to match the color swatch, then create a color chip, using an injection molding machine. Finally, compare the color chip with the original desired color sample. Almost all first matches failed. This required re-mixing ingredients, adding or removing colors and making more chips until the desired match was accomplished.
But the challenge wasn't over. When a successful match was achieved, we had to convert the formula for making a larger quantity of color dye that would be produced in manufacturing. This involved the use of a smaller extruder, making more chips and checking the match. Now I was regretting my low grades in math. Converting formulas was not my strong suit. There were four of us in the lab, and once again patience on their part was needed to get me through.
This would also be my first encounter with Christian doctrines that would make me feel uneasy. That's right, in a lab. The lab superivsor somehow quickly picked up on the fact that I was a fellow-believer. And he also happened to be my pinochle parter (We played cards at lunch --- no money involved). He was an intense person, and I wasn't an effective partner to his liking. He also challenged me on several levels in spiritual discussions.
This fellow would introduce to me what later I could only identify as Reformed theology, or Calvinism. He had specific Bible verses that supported his theory that God condemned everybody, then chose certain ones who would be saved through the blood of Christ. While I firmly believed that Christ died for our sins, I couldn't agree that God would intentionally pass over people, simply because they weren't chosen, people who would go on to be tortured forever in a fiery hell. His supporting verses just had to mean something different.
He was so aggressive in his approach that our "discussions" were little more than impassioned debates. I began to avoid him and dreaded lunch periods, where I would once again fail to get his bidding and playing signals in the card game. I suggested changing partners or playing cutthroat, where each player is responsible for his own performance. But the supervisor insisted on playing partners and that I had to join him because we were fellow Christians.
It's amazing how we all got along in the lab, but God works in mysterious ways, and we had a great working relationship. The supervisor was even becoming receptive to the fact that I was avoiding spiritual discussions. He confessed that he was often too hot-headed, that he enjoyed being with me and that he was willing to accept that both of us could be off on our interpretations of scripture.
So things were finally going well. We even agreed in the lab to go to 10-hour days, thereby giving us three-day weekends and four-day weekends on an alternating basis. Good job, great benefits --- even the pay got a little better. Not to mention the upcoming free turkey (or ham).
But the Tempter was about to step in at just the right time. I got a phone call that would entice me to give my budding career up. As I said, I was stupid.
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