June 7, 2022

My day started early, the sounds of Lynyrd Skynyrd shook me from my slumber. I looked at the clock, 5:30 am in fuzzy numbers glowed back at me. 

It was going to be a long day.

I had a first-world decision whether to ride the motorbike and not worry about parking and have a fun ride. Or drive the truck and be comfortable and be able to have a morning coffee on my way across the city to the University Of British Columbia’s Okanagan campus. With the price of fuel, I made my choice – bike it was.

I was surprised by how many people were on the road at 6:30 am as I navigated the thickening traffic on my way across the bridge. Still, I pulled into the parking lot for the gymnasium at UBCO and felt invigorated after my ride. I didn’t need the second cup of coffee, the fresh air served the same purpose. 

My first job of the day was to do the high-rigging for the upcoming graduation ceremonies. Four hours later I walked out satisfied they would be able to hang all the screens, lights, and speakers for the commencement that week.  

I hopped back on my bike and headed downtown. 

The next gig of the day was much bigger. It was one I’d been looking forward to – I was part of the crew rigging up the upcoming Cirque-du-Soliel show. The call was to work from noon until 8:00 pm, a big day but thirteen hours didn’t seem too bad. After all with the cost of everything these days I could use the money.

Time flew in staggered bursts. I was operating an eighty-foot boom lift and we were hanging cables and chains in the highest rafters of the local hockey rink. Prospera Place was built in 1999 and back then they didn’t plan to hang huge girders off of the steel rafters of the ceiling. There we were placing cables around the steel frame and joining them together so motors could ascend the chains and the building could host the spectacle that is Cirque Du Soliel.

It was quite the rig.

And it was taking far longer than they anticipated.

Getting into the rafter with huge boom lifts is a slow and painstaking affair. And there is no room for error. twelve of us riggers worked the lifts and walked the rafters installing cable after cable. 

Eight hours passed in the flash of an eye. 

I was feeling tired but still felt good so I stayed after 8 to keep the project going. They needed everyone they could to keep hanging all the points, the show must go on.

Before I knew it it was midnight and we were a long way from done. How did they think it would only take eight hours? 

It was going slow but steady. The most important thing was safety, every point had to be checked and loaded in without any mistakes. There were going to be many performers relying on this equipment to ensure the safe completion of their acrobatic show.

I was feeling the length of my day in my weary bones. 

I told the boss I wanted to see the project through but I’d been working since seven in the morning, four hours longer than anyone else there. What the heck was I thinking, accepting another job before this one? I never figured it would go past midnight. But there I was and the witching hour had been broken.

I decided to stay and keep hanging the steel. I couldn’t let down my co-workers or the people in charge.

I also couldn’t go all night. At that point, it looked like it might.

We flew up some more points but exhaustion was taking over my body, and my mind.

At 1:30 I hit my wall. 

But the job wasn’t done.

I hated to leave a job unfinished. But I also didn’t want to risk myself or anyone else by making a mistake. It was the boss man who made the call.

“You’ve done enough, time to tap out.”

It was at that point I regretted the decision to ride my motorbike. It felt like a day away when I hopped on my steel horse and rode to work that morning. Or was it the morning before? It was over seventeen hours before anyway. My truck would have been much more comfortable on my weary bones. Not like I had any choice at that point.

The chilled air swept through my nostrils as I crossed the bridge back toward Westbank and home.

My bed never felt so good.

I couldn’t help but feel bad that I left the job unfinished. But there came a point where I was no longer effective at what I was doing. Had I reached that point? At my age, I would hope to know better. I knew the others could handle the rig and the show would go on. It was nice to be only a cog in the machine and not the chief of it all. 

I’m sure the people of Kelowna will enjoy the spectacle of Cirque Du Soliel and in some small way, they appreciate the efforts put forth by everyone in the background who rigged the show.

At least we could have a show to enjoy. Another step away from the last two years of the coronaverse.