It was clear to me that my lie was going to


have to be the “lie I wish I had told.” I reasoned that a great lie needed to be wrapped in feathery softness and hidden snuggly in a cocoon of truth, or at least, partial- ly inflated truth. Now, I just needed to find a cocoon with a soft, feathery lining. I stared at the nearly blank sheet of paper until


my eyes began to ache. Then I turned off my computer and went to bed--maybe tomorrow would bring me my great lie. I didn’t need to wait for morning; it was the


middle of the night when I woke from my dream rub- bing my tired and sore eyes. And there it was, or ra- ther here it is, my great lie:


Dear Boss:


Unfortunately, I’m going to be missing some time from work. The reason is both complicated and embarrass- ing, as it comes as the result of an on-the-job injury for which I must seek medical attention. This is why I’m taking the time to put everything on paper, rather than trying to explain in person.


As you know, my job is to determine the cause of prod- uct failure involving our company’s valve and instru- mentation packages, as they are used in steam gener- ating plants throughout the world.


I am currently working on such a project: One of our company’s 4” control valves installed in a steam line, in a gas fired power house, failed to close properly. The valve was replaced without incident and the de- fective valve was shipped to my lab and arrived late yesterday morning. Upon its arrival, I cut open the cardboard container, scraped off both gaskets with my old hunting knife and installed the valve on my test board.


As I examined the interior of the valve, I found, pitting around the valve seat, a large quantity of a foreign substance from which I took a sample and sent it to our chemical lab for analysis. I then called the chemi- cal lab and inquired how long it might be before I could expect results. I was told that they would have something for me first thing in the morning.


14 PHF MAGAZINE


There was less than an hour left in the work day not enough time to begin another project but too much time to just sit at my desk shuffling paper. I needed something work related and constructive to occupy the remainder of my day but what?


While I pondered the question of what to do, I ab- sentmindedly began putting away the tools I had been using, including my old hunting knife. As I slid the knife into my desk drawer, it occurred to me that I hadn’t sharpened the blade in forever and now it wasn’t much sharper than a butter knife.


I carried the knife over to my work bench, tore off a strip of very fine sand cloth, locked one end in my bench vice and went to work on that dull blade. By quitting time I had that blade so sharp that I easily shaved hair off my arm. I put that knife away know- ing that we were both prepared for whatever tomor- row might bring.


Unfortunately, when I came in this morning, my message lamp was blinking. It was from the chemi- cal lab; it would be another hour or two before my results would be ready. So there I was, faced with exactly the same time constraints as yesterday. Even though my knife was now very sharp, I reasoned that with a little work I could get it even sharper. But I was going to have to improve my sharpening meth- od.


I walked down the hall to the maintenance depart- ment and borrowed a whetstone and sharpening oil and, again, went to work on the knife. Within thirty minutes, I had that blade as sharp as possible using the whetstone. By now I had become obsessed with my sharpening project, and that would quickly lead to my accident. If only I had stopped!


In my desk drawer I had a small can of Jeweler’s Rouge, which I had once used to polish a valve seat. I reasoned that if I could remove tiny imperfections from a valve seat using the rouge, I could get the same results on my knife blade.


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