I love to bash the utilities companies. Mostly, I think because they are large corporations and we like to bash large corporations these days, rather than focus on the failure of government to step up and counter their excesses. Sort of like failing to realize a controlled fire, as on a kitchen range, is a good thing, but a fire running wild is not. When I learned that the water rates had gone up 19% in the last few years, I moved EB MUD, our water company, the East Bay Municipal Utilities District, over to the "bad guys" column.
And I was not pleased to learn that for most of August and September, my street was going to be torn up as they laid new water mains. Huge Komatsu digging equipment have been parked on the street for some time now and every morning at 8 o'clock they start banging and clanging till you can't hear yourself think.
For some reason, though, probably because we've been holed up here in the house the past six months, I found myself welcoming the entertainment. I began watching from my bedroom window and I've discovered the excitement I felt at the age of five or six watching these heavy equipment operators do their thing. It's like watching science fiction, so far removed it is from my everyday life. And as the days go by, my respect and my admiration have risen to very high levels. These guys are good at their jobs.
So it's not the administrative decisions to charge more for water that's front and center at the moment, but the (to me) recognition of the astonishing ability these guys have to know just what to do, and when and how. EB MUD clearly consists of much more than bad guys.
Taku asked me the other day what the word was for these large earth movers. I drew a blank, because my brain now draws a blank every time you ask me for specific words. If that turns into Alzheimers, I'm hoping somebody will tell me. For now, I just go about my business, knowing the word will come to me just as soon as I focus on something else. "Steam shovels!" I shout down to Taku, five minutes later.
"That's crazy," Taku says. They don't run on steam, he shouts back up.
"I don't care," I tell him. "They're still called steam shovels," I insist.
"Maybe back in 1950," he says. "You're old."
"And you're short," I fire back, never one to want to lose a fight.
For days I watched the huge pipes they would bring in, and I wondered how they were going to be able to get them into the ground. Tragically, I missed the moment when they did, but I have been watching them dig the hole. They're about done in front of the house and are filling it back in - with dirt and cement and rolling equipment. They work till about four and then begin covering the hole till the next morning at eight when they lift the plates covering the ditch they've dug and start in again. I now look forward to the rattling of the house and the windows.
Miki and Bounce get a little uncomfortable when the house thuds, as in an earthquake, but they recover quickly.
I've snapped a bunch of photos. Here's just a sample:
new water mains being put in
the plates covering the ditch at the end of the day
view facing the house at the end of the day
plates lifted, workers back at work. Are those two pipes water coming to our house? How did they get the huge water main down there past those pipes? Clearly I missed something.
Reinforcing the sides of the ditch before filling it with dirt and cement
rolling the dirt
adding more dirt and rolling it again
adding more cement
Have they found Jimmy Hoffa’s body yet?
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