Shaking my Rattle

Once upon a time I had a job in a magical land far, far away: Detroit. I no longer call the motor city home, but it has left with me an imprint. It actually reminds me of a wonderful moment from Sarah Ruhl's play Eurydice, where the two ill-fated lovers are playing on the beach. Orpheus has composed a symphony for our heroine, and he pressures her to remember it for always. Eurydice replies after a barrage of questions, "I will always remember your melody! It will be imprinted upon my heart like wax!" (or something like that; it's not like I have the play in front of me). Now there are differences between Eurydice and my time in Detroit (many many differences), but the idea here - the idea of something leaving an imprint - that is what reminds me of the D.



One imprint that I wish I could make go away would be the phrase: "shaking their rattles." This all began when a group of my coworkers and I protested our working conditions citing several unsafe tasks we were being asked to perform. Apparently some people thought 16 hour shifts and operating power tools after having been awake for 46 hours are both good ideas and safety words are only for losers at bedroom play. Now most people we worked with and for understood that the conditions needed to change, and were happy we brought the issues to their attention. One, however, was not so happy...



He protested our changes to his work (I work in theatre - hence the random Sarah Ruhl reference). He accused us of being babies - shaking our rattles - because we couldn't go on a ski trip. (We had asked for a change in a design to make it less dangerous and not take 8 hours to shift; how ski trips ever came out of our request may forever be a secret locked up with the number of licks to get to the center of a Tootsie-Roll Pop, but I digress.) Needless to say we won that argument. You can't argue with safety; OSHA has made sure of that. I did learn a valuable lesson that day, however. As a child I was always taught that the squeaky wheel gets the grease. So I squeaked, and I learned that the old maxim is indeed true. The squeaky wheel does get the grease. The problem comes in assuming that the squeaky wheel is the one with the problem. The wheel only gets grease to shut it up.



So now, more than a year and a half later, I have established this blog. Here is where I will shake my rattle at the world. Sometimes my rattle will praise those who make smart choices, sometimes my rattle will rail against BP. (Seriously, BP! Find a way to fix the oil spill now! Sidebar: can you believe I actually saw people pumping gas at a Satan's Service Station this evening? Really people!?! We should all stop filling up at BP until they put on their big girl panties and deal with the situation - with a solution that actually works.)



Now onto a brighter topic: a friend and I will be taking a road trip to remember this summer, and I will be sharing our adventures with all of you! Currently, we are lining up the dates, and planning our excursion (minimal planning - it is an adventure after all). So I am shaking my rattle in anticipation of what I hope will be the best trip of my life thus far. We'll be going from Detroit to San Diego, and along the way we'll visit Chicago, Las Vegas, and Los Angeles. I've never been to California, so this is pretty exciting!



I have also made it a goal to write in this blog everyday in preparation for the trip. I have never kept a blog, and never really journaled, so this is new for me. In the weeks prepping for the trip, I will probably shake my rattle quite a bit. This wheel really squeaks.