Tales of SNAFUery

WAYNE’S WORLD

About a year ago, I noticed that nobody seemed to have anything good to say about IVC’s new Director of Facilities and Maintenance, Wayne Ward, who was hired in 2004.

Then came the first week of the fall 2006 semester: the CEC portable classrooms weren’t ready for use, and that caused huge problems.

The CEC’s are Wayne’s responsibility.

I looked up his bio on IVC’s website, and it says that he received his Bachelor’s degree from the University of Phoenix. Uh-oh. (See U of Phoenix Loses [fraud case] in US Court.)

So I’ve been trying to keep an eye on this Wayne fella. Recently, a colleague complained that, among other vices, Wayne has some seriously high-handed ways.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Well, like he thinks he can park just anywhere he wants. He’s a real asshole.”

I did not pursue the matter. Today, however, I happened to be walking past the Facilities and Maintenance office, and I spotted a snazzy silver Camaro. It was parked next to a storage bin near a sign saying, “Do not enter.”

I walked closer. The license plate said, “XXX WARD.” (I’ve obscured the 1st three letters.)

Well, whatever.

Later in the afternoon, I was in my office. A guy walked in and started unscrewing the plate that holds the lock assembly on my door. He did not explain himself. I stared at him. He removed the lock and replaced it with another one. He left.

OK. I mean, it's IVC.

A few minutes later, I left the office, closing the door behind me. After a few steps, I realized that I had left my camera in the office, so I returned to retrieve it. But my key wouldn’t work. I was screwed.

Plus I’ve got a class tomorrow morning. I'm gonna need to get into my office!

On the way out to my car, I ran into a few acquaintances. Evidently, lots of faculty have had their office door locks replaced today. No keys were provided. Lord only knows when we’ll get them.

IF we get them.

Wayne’s in charge of locks, I suppose.

Or maybe nobody is. (Is it Owen K, chief of police?)

DEAD PLANTS

Today, I ran into one of our likeable crew of biologists. The full-time biology instructors at IVC are like some kind of eccentrics club, like birders or spelunkers. They’re close-knit. They’ve got their own corpse.

They’re fun.

This particular biologist, Mr. D, had a sad story to tell. It concerned our little greenhouse.


Perhaps you’ll recall that, several years ago, our biologists decided to construct a greenhouse for students. Well, after much effort and expense, they did so, and, with typically dry biological humor, they held a ceremony in which they solemnly christened the little structure “The Terry Burgess Greenhouse.” There was a plaque and everything.

Burgess, of course, had been the college’s first biologist and, later, its VPI. He also happened to be one of then-President Raghu P. Mathur’s least favorite people in the whole world. And that’s sayin’ somethin’, baby, cuz Raghu’s got lots of enemies. (He carries a list.)

Raghu heard about this greenhouse stunt and was pissed. But he’s a clever little fellow. Back at Hah-vud, he had studied Saddam’s treatise on effective management, and Saddam’s a big one for occasionally taking some poor slob and making an example of him. You know, set fire to ‘im, boil 'im in oil--that sort of thing.

So Raghu thought: “Are there any members of the School of Life Sciences who are untenured? Mu-hu-hu!”

What about Jeff K! Prepare the oil!

Now, in fact, Jeff had nothing to do with naming the greenhouse. But that was OK. When you zap a guy to make an example, it doesn’t much matter who you zap. (For the rest of Jeff's "greenhouse" story, see Mathur goes after Jeff for naming a greenhouse.)


Well, that’s ancient history now. But Mr. D’s tale concerned that very greenhouse. As you know, not far from IVC's greenhouse, in what used to be a lovely orange grove, the college is constructing a Performing Arts Center. Well, naturally, over the weekend, construction workers managed to cut the power line that goes to the little house of plants. I guess they just figured that was OK. (Do you suppose they called Wayne?)

You know how these greenhouses work. You’ve got to condition the air, cuz, if you don’t, it’ll get blazin’ hot, especially this time of year. So when Mr. D and his colleagues visited the greenhouse on Tuesday, they found that the temperature inside had risen to a lethal 160 degrees. All the plants—including some expensive ones—were yellow and withered. They were dead.


CLUELESS

Each year, faculty retire. As you know, it is common for instructors to retire mid-year.

Well, when new VC of Human Resources, Bob King, found out that one of our psychology instructors wanted to retire in December, he declared that that simply wasn’t possible. How come? Because, said Bob, faculty teach a year at a time, and so a guy’s gotta teach the whole year or none of the year. He can’t teach half of it!

Huh?

--He said something like that. I don't know the details.

I’m told that Bob was brought in to head HR because the Director of Human Resources, Teddi Lorch, is, well, clueless. Naturally, when Bob’s position was created, she got seriously pissed about it. She didn’t want a boss.

Well, it turns out that her boss is clueless too.