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Jan. 28, 2007 Sump Pump 50 was put together in a factory in the U.S.A. It was green, and sat in a box with some cardboard supports. It had two cords running outside of it. One cord was to plug into the power source, which would be 115 volts, and the other cord had a piggyback switch, which plugged into the first cord. Three prongs. Both three pronged. It sat on a big truck, nestles in between other boxes, with pumps just like itself. Sump Pump 50 was traveling, actually, with forty or fifty other Sump Pump 50’s. The boxes were on a skid, and they were wrapped in plastic. It was a long drive, and they arrived in Canada eventually. The doors opened and the skid was dragged to the back of the transport truck with a chain wrapped around the bottom, and a forklift driving backwards. Then the chain came off and the forklift lifted the pump and all its friends off and into a factory. The pump sat there for a long time, and dust gathered on its box. It became comfortable there, and life was good. One day, though, it was taken down, and pulled from its box. It was tested, and a sticker was put on it, and then more stickers on its cord, and then it was placed back in its box with its brochure. Someone was writing with a big black magic marker on the outside of the box. Squeaky. It sounded so squeaky. What was this? Now it was being carried, and put down on a dolly. It was being wheeled, and then there were men talking, and it was being lifted again onto a small truck, and doors were closing. Sump Pump 50 was being driven away, to somewhere new. It was a bit anxious, but figured that it might be put to work doing what it was made for, which would be good, as it knew it was made well, and had tested well. Soon the pump was put in a pit, and plugged in. It sat there, and in a while the water level came up, and its switch turned on its motor, and the impeller started to spin, and that was the beginning of a great career for Sump Pump 50. It worked away, and was happy, because it was good at its job. Sometimes it was taken out, and put in other places, but it didn’t mind. Sometimes it worked all through what seemed like the night. It heard people at other times, up above. Sometimes it sat on floors, with other pumps, and the other ones were green, or white, sometimes blue, or even golden. There was always work on its way though, and the pump was put back to good use every time. One day, something went wrong, and it was brought to its old home for repairs. There was a problem with its seal, and it turned out that it needed some new cords also. It was not so bad though it was strange to be taken apart and laid out in pieces on a table. It had been cleaned though, with a pressure washer, and as it sat there on the cement getting blasted with water, it saw that a truck was being unloaded with many brand new sump pumps just like him. But he didn’t feel envious that they were new. He felt proud that he had true experience in the field, and had been places they hadn’t. Besides, he was getting an overhaul, and would be as good as new, maybe even better. The best part was that he was being painted again, and the fresh green spray paint felt so good against his housing. The painter had put grease on his nametags so as to protect them from the paint, and when he was dry, the grease was carefully taken off with a clean rag. His cords hung up high in the air, so as not to get them painted on. He felt like royalty. Then he was taken away, back to the field again. Years went past. Sump 50 worked hard, and felt great. He ran into problems here and there, like the time something jammed his impeller, and the time his motor got burnt out and needed rewinding. Each time there was a problem, he was back for repairs, and they handled him nicely. One day though, when he came for repairs, he was not put back together. There were too many problems, as he heard the repairman tell it to someone, another man, with a clipboard. Apparently, he needed so many parts, that the cost of them, plus something called “labor,” would be more money than a new Sump 50. Sump 50, or what was left of him, was put in a box, an old box, and it just sat there. There was time to think, and think the pump did. In fact Sump did nothing but think for four days and nights together. It was the nights that were the loneliest, because there was nothing to watch or hear, for the most part that is. See, on the fourth night, an older and retired Sump 75 Pump started to speak. It told the Sump 50 that though there was nothing that could be done, there was also no need to worry. Sump 75 said that all pumps served a purpose for a time and that afterwards had to rest, and let others take over. He told 50 to look around, and see that there were all kinds…other sumps, piston pumps, gear pumps, bearing assemblies, and the crowd included more and more. Pump 50 felt well, after the reassuring words. 75 also reminded him that all was not for naught, as some of 50’s parts might be reused, in a rebuilt pump, and if he was very, very, very lucky, he might become a rebuilt pump one day and be sold again. Sump Pump 50 began to be resolved to whatever fate had in store. He sat there, day and night, with most of his parts beside him in the open box with the oil stains and an old discarded rag thrown in. He was sometimes nostalgic though, and remembered when he was first made, and his long trip to the factory. He thought of how well he had done, and of how they had fixed him up quite a few times. He felt contented when he put things in this perspective. Days and nights went past. Sometimes he chatted with 75, which was nice, but for the most part he just sat there. Outside, through some windows, the seasons changed. Sometimes it was spring, and there seemed to be rain, and a wild wind. At other times it was summer bright, and there was birdsong under a warm sun. Still, there were the winter months, with long nights, and snow fell silently outside. Winter. Winter was most like the place 50 felt he was in. Winter suited. ------------ Email Brian Michael Barbeito: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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