6:56 AM
It's early, it's dark, I'm still bleary, and I know I have a very long day ahead of me. I do my start-of-shift checks on the shovel, and all the oil and grease levels are good. I go up to the cab for a few minutes before my day begins in earnest. The shovel operator is in his chair, contemplating his own day. He's a nice old fellow named Vic, about 57 or so.
"They told me this is really called a gooey," he says.
"What's gooey?"
"This. The computer. It's really called a gooey."
"Oh, yeah, I know what you mean- a graphical user interface." (GUI)
"Sounds like your dad will be in the pit hauling some coal."
"Yeah I heard that." The sudden change in topic change doesn't faze me.
"Oh so it's a computer term, eh?"
"Yep."
"Gooey."
"Gooey," I agree.
"Well, I think I'll turn to my right here, where the bucket is pointing, and widen out. They'll likely tell me to keep going right to expose more coal, but I have to widen out."
"Yeah, guaranteed they'll be hollering at ya."
"Yep. Gooey!" And with that he plunged the bucket into the face, hoisting more than 80 tons of rock to begin his day.
7:02 AM
My foreman is here to pick me up. The rest of the day is spent by myself outside in the wind, lifting and pulling and wishing the day was over.
But every time I think of gooey, I smile.