The Big Unit

The Big Unit.  That's what I call him, but as we all know, Brook is actually his name.  I call him that partly because he's big of course, but mainly because he has a big head.  Actually, he's so big overall that there's nothing out of proportion. He's a big boy.  I thought I read somewhere once that most adult humans have a head that averages 30 lbs. in weight.  After Googling it, I've found that only Brook has a head that weighs 30 lbs.

Okay, Jack from Jack-in-the-Box does too, but that's not what this is about.

He is apparently basking in the light--being the only "fixit" guy we have.  He probably does good enough work, but I get a little tired of him constantly providing updates of every little thing in lieu of actually doing things.  That's just what I see from my perspective.  I just think that if he'd stop telling everyone everything he's doing all day long he'd be able to do twice as much.

Anyway, that's not what this post is about either.

Apparently Brook's favorite way of repairing something he doesn't know how to repair is consulting with someone on the phone about it.  Over and over.  And not sharing his findings in their entirety with anyone else.  While sprawling over Bruce's old chair.  At Bruce's old desk.  Looking like it's his "place".

He's been on the phone over and over with someone at the Strippit company about getting our press fixed (it's been down for well over a month now).  For the second time, I needed to ship the computer (an older model Apple Macintosh) to their company in New York for them to take a look at.  I guess there is some sort of an upgrade problem... Like the upgrade involves more than one item within the computer because it's so old--something like that.  Anyway, he was on the phone over and over today and the last several days with these guys.  Doing what--I don't know.  I guess it takes a lot of coordination to send something to someone UPS (not!).  Today (this morning actually) I get the official word from a couple guys, "This needs to go UPS Red overnight to New York today. Get with Brook--he'll give you the information."  Okay, I spent some time boxing it up real nice like I always do--overkill all the way.

Time passes.  I check with office folks.  No, no P.O. or anything yet (Dale is off until Monday) "Check with Brook" they say.  I check.  He says, "I talked to them and we needed to fax something to them.  I'll call them and make sure they got it."  Okay.  He goes and calls again.  I don't hear back from him.  Later I brought Bernie into the loop, asking him about what I needed to include to close the box.  "Hasn't Brook given you the address?" he asked.  This sort of thing happened several times during the day.  Finally, at 2 o'clock I pressed him.  "Hey, UPS is going to be here in 15 minutes.  I need the information to put in the box."

He handed me a pad of paper with a hastily-scrawled address on it. That's all he had after all those phone calls!?  I didn't need to wait for him after all.  I had to take that scrawl he gave me and actually type up a "letter" to include in the box with who we are, what needed done, how to send it back, etc.  Basically, a last minute rush.

Brook needs to know that there is more to repairing something than looking important while sitting on a phone in an office.

I think it's time he got bathroom duty.