It’s a Family Affair…Blood, is thicker then mud…

OUI OUI Monsieur! As many retired Alyeskans travel the world over enjoying the fruits of thou labors and not yet in RIP mourning, as so advertised in the news found in the “Alyeska Pipeline People” keep-in-touch website, the “Oui Oui” may transcend as a fashionable treatise. Heads up on that “wee wee” what it means in the Alyeska Pipeline Service Company’s - TAPS Glossary. For many “ex” Alyeska escapees, it means “Operating Under the Influence” or for lack of a better definition, aka “pissing on decency” the salt of the earth hard working brothers & sisters in “Solidarity". When “Best of the Best” was realigned to "Best in the Beast" and who could bring news about employees trying to “Unionize” fastest to the HR cunts, even if that information was false, gonna climb the corporate hoe ladder! Now that fromunder “Influence” can take on a dirty-dozen influence, that baker’s-dozen the 13th donut at odds, man out of bounds with humanity - but let’s stick with the urination factor. See, when the dedicated workers in Valdez sought representation by “organized labor” in the early 80s, it wasn’t about working conditions upon the job description or the lack of a competitive wage with benefits nor the time-off as all was good in that worker as laborer & management as boss “dominion”! The call to “Unionize”, it was all about them drunked up tanker crews returning a little too tipsy from that shore-side furlough, as their mighty EXXON Valdez tankers went filled with crude oil. Then they would jump aboard the helm of those beastly boats and pedal-to-the-metal joy ride out of town. Well one early morning, Captain Joe went asleep at the wheelhouse and missed a turn and the rest was history. And that TAXI driver that delivered the drunks back to that pirate ship, well too bad Mr. Yellow-Matter-Custard didn’t miss that last turn on Dayville Road and dunked the drunks into the bay “man overboard”, as that would have sobered the bastards up. Wow, and Joe’s apology; “Yes, I abused alcohol”! But at the same time, some 800-miles north, well that second verse same as the first in this “OUI” was roustabouting out-of-place some Peacock feathers. See, before Captain Joe went reckless, I was on my way up to Pump Station#1 - after an ARCO field measurement auditor caught wind that the “Custody Transfer” at Mile Post “0” was messed up and needed some outside attention. I was working for Alyeska at the “Valdez Marine Terminal”, and from here to there they could not find anybody qualified in between to…well to bail Alyeska out. OK, the truth-in-lending what caused failure. The guy we booted from Valdez somehow or another schmoosed his way back into “Oil Measurement” fame, as by now in Alyeska’s history ass kissing schmoozing your way to the top was the new game on the “Bragaw Street” block. Credibility was lack-a-billy, southern drool! Maybe it was the George M. Nelson disease, “M” as in “mucous”. Yes, “Corporate Ass Kissing” 800-miles long and lucky for us in Valdez, well we didn’t need the bastards, we didn’t want the bastards, and we wanted that “Union” to help defend against that wayward assassination and dereliction in sabotage upon decency that was coming our way from Bragaw. Love it or live it, Alyeska was three different companies - “Un” the pipeline run by a fat asshole they called “Two Chairs” that continued to coddle an adult son like a baby in diapers and “Trois” with Valdez, wherein for awhile “We the Workers” ran the show along with front-line managers like Lynn McArthur who gave a rat's ass. The reason we could tell the Joe Hazelwoods to get fucked and raise a fist in solidarity, take that back, raise a RIGID 818 in solidarity and were not afraid to brawl. And behind door Number “Deux”? Bragaw Street, the reason it was Number 2 no further explanation required. So here I was, stepping into the “Two Chairs” domain. Anyway, I am checked in for that “Conair” flight north, the Alyeska ERA charter. I didn’t know anybody, didn’t matter as those of us in Valdez, well we didn’t need to prove nothing to nobody. The Pump Stations were like “kid toys” in comparison to what we were responsible for in Valdez. But at least Pump Station#1 was in nearsightedness some semblance of a complicated system, used to pump that oil south. OK, in the numbers game of chance in the “complication” scheme of things from the “Start” to the “End”, about 1/50^th as sophisticated! So my task at hand, it would be a piece of cake, just get out of my way. Soon and without any announcements, the flight departure time had been delayed. Weather in Deadhorse? No, as sunshine and calm winds reported. Mechanical delay? No, as “Crash Harvey” was willing and waiting at the stick. It was like whatever the holdup, it was all on the “hush hush” and I wasn't getting paid! I then noticed a few Alyeska station personnel assembling and discussing something in a closed-fashion secrecy: “Because something is happening here but you don’t know what it is, do you Mr. Jones”. Then a few guys in a hurry up like manner exit the concourse and jump into a taxi and then another taxi, and head out. Good, I'll go back home to Valdez. I started to eavesdrop, something about searching the Anchorage bars for a no-show, a guy named Cal. In about an hour’s time, the recovery team makes it back, and in drag some guy that looks like he spent the last week with Captain Joe on 2nd Avenue in Fairbanks. Talk about hush, but soon we were airborne. Funny thing, this was the “normalcy”? Now when we get to Deadhorse then onto the Station PLQ camp, this Cal character was carried off the Alyeska bus and taken to his bunk. Like clockwork, a routine practiced like it was pipeline recon training everybody knew what to do - just in this case keep your damn mouths shut. Then it was all like a nothing-burger, nobody spoke up or about this event - business as usual. WTF was my sentiment, but don’t ask don’t tell seemed to be in effect and I did not give a rat’s ass. I didn’t really care - not my problem and had seen the same damn disrespect in Valdez - the “coverup” and I had a job to do. I proceeded to look into the “Custody Transfer” and why an “Owner Company” oversight was complaining. Boy, was I not wanted, not disdain by the troops, but the supervisory goons and some ass-wipe named Joe Hirer that was in charge of the “roads & pads” giving me shit in the hallway! Was it supposed to be as fun? Not to worry, never leave home without it, my RIGID! It was to be expected, as someone from Valdez was considered an outsider, especially if at the station to work on the most critical aspect of this TAPS - the “Custody Transfer”. It’s what the “Bean Counters” relied upon and it was well known “if you can’t measure it don’t pump it”. Look, I wasn’t sent here for a hangover sleep-off, so I jumped right into the issues at hand - inaccurate measurement of the crude oil commodity at the begining of the pipeline. See, we had everything in Valdez dialed in to an accuracy statement “unsurpassed” and if a balance problem with the “Ins & Outs” equation was cause for concern, it meant one of two things. A messed up “Custody Transfer” at Pump Station#1 or a leak somewhere along that 800-miles of pipe in the Alaskan wilderness. So it was serious business. And we were confident is wasn’t a leak, more in-line to a continuation of the “jokerman” mentality that allowed “tweaking”, make it look good on the surface. Said again, we ran the “Measurement Masterbaters Anonymous” out of Valdez a long time ago. As by this time with Alyeska and the “asshole kissing” contest in Anchorage, the entire stewardship in professionalism with the oil measurement responsibility went gutted, MarKoppal Tweaker Syndrome to the rescue, to make it look good nothing more - as much of it was now in control by the “Spreadsheet Masterbater” enthusiasts who had taken over and…it was a mess and in no way shape or form could this be part of any legitimate pipeline “leak detection” system. So I reported that back to the ARCO field agent and the very next day that “Custody Transfer” was taken away from the Peacock and SCADA moved in to Pump Station#1 for the long term. Not that I was that good of a trouble-shooter so quickly, the fucking local moron "stand your guard" bragged that the station was told to “tweak” the flow computers everyday, and once that starts you chase your tail forevermore. Look, it is the “$Cash Register$” and when is doesn’t balance at close of business, someone’s got their mitts in the “cookie jar”! But that was the same damn problem we were witnessing in Valdez with the “OUI”, when Alyeska’s “management mindset” started sending rejected cowards from the “pipeline” out-to-pasture in Valdez and instead of fixing problems, focusing on a “silence & kill the messenger” mandate. It was that “mucous”, it sticks! Now I see wherein it came from, as when a cesspool overflows those floaters flow downhill. So here I was stuck for a week and about 3-days into my PS#1 vacation, that guy Cal shows up for the “morning meeting”. I was surprised he was still with the company…he was the freak’n “Supervisor”? OUI OUI Masterbaters! And that is why the crew change plane was late with “wheels up”, as the station supervisor must OK the delivery of the fresh crew! Can’t do that when you are AWOL, have another drink! And that meant wasting "my time", off the clock waiting for Joe Hazelwood to make a show. But by this time in Alyeska’s history, when George Mucous Nelson was at the “helm”, it was too damn late for Alyeska to change course as in “horses in midstream”, as all “ethical reasoning” was gone in  the prevailing winds of change. Change can be good, not in this case. The “Union” was busted, and if you ever wonder how a tanker can run “Hard Aground”, Alyeska's coward “management” was already hard-on “grounded” and it was merely a “monkey see monkey do” mentality for survival. If the Alyeska management could get away with “OUI” so could we many took that offering to heart. Within a few weeks of my reporting back to my boss in Fairbanks, SCADA took over the entire “Custody Transfer” from the Peacock. That was a mandate from an “Owner Company”, get a team in there that knows what the hell they are doing. See, not only was it crucial for accuracy, this is wherein the State of Alaska received its “Royalty” share of this Prudhoe Bay “cash cow” - and yes every drop of oil counts as does every red cent penny when it comes to the bottom-line. I once witnessed an “Owner Company” field agent go crazed over the fact an oil analyzer at PS#1 had been repiped without permission to discharge its spent oil into the “mainline”, but after the metering - so it was “unmeasured oil”. We had to set up an elaborate test to measure how much oil was lost in a day, it amounted to a barrel a week and the ticket receipts had to be corrected to add that loss. Yes, add a single barrel to millions. Oil is oil! And our SCADA presence on the scene, that pissed off the local management like with man panties to damn tight. We were like the “Goodfellas” as our boss in Fairbanks played the Bragaw Street game very brilliantly like a Paul Cicero villain - as this “Custody Transfer” stuff was a gimme shelter ace in the hole. And nobody came close to how we ran the store, to the point we were asked by affiliated “Owner Companies” to help get their goods up to speed on the North Slope. Sad thing, the “Oil Measurement” misfits in “Masterbation” maintained their Bragaw Street jobs, as when that disconnect occurred with the 5^th Floor “Executives”, one could survive just by doing drive by ass kissing. Regardless, we continued to maintain what the boss told us to do, and he had our backs. We were our own boss at site and never went to shift change, had our own trucks and got passes to eat over at the BP Hilton. Worked a “split shift” so we didn’t have to ride that dingey old “Conair” special slow-poker, and to boot flying commercial at Alyeska’s expense and getting air miles for free trips. When things went hairy around the station, we would get in our trucks and head south - yes our SCADA trucks were equipped with fishing poles and tackle. And because we kept those systems maintained so well, fishing was our reward, playing hooky from the station and too damn bad if it gave Migraine Rick the fits and his ever damning displeasure that SCADA was out-of-control. I guess in fact like the "Untouchables". And because SCADA’s presence at Pump Station#1 was dictated by an “Owner Company”, so what if Alyeska considered it “outside interference”, there was not a damn thing Two Chairs could do about it - when even his bible thumping sympathy for the devil sermons failed to do justice.  For real, Two Chairs calls me into Rick's office one day and asks me to repent. Hey Alex, don't you have some diaper changing to do down at Station#5? But likewise how the Alyeska 5^th Floor Bragaw would turn away from decency and then be known as the Filth Floor Bragaw, all good things come to an end such was our dedication squashed, after a 5-year reign. So we won, the bastards lost. And I wonder, are the “Spreadsheet Masterbaters” at it again, tweaking things so it looks good? Maybe the reason in 2001 a bullet-hole through that pipeline - another drunk taking target practice - it leaked oil for way too long. And maybe if the “leak detection” went into alarm during this incidence, just tweak it back to hibernation - the Alyeska pride & joy ride fantasy of doing things right and I was never in it to kiss another executive’s ass! It is called the short-timer syndrome. And the Filth Floor Bragaw "golden boys"...take that back the "golden shower boys" that would do anything to climb that Nelson hoe corporate ladder, sad fact of humanity. In ending, a whole lot of them “retirees”, no matter how far they get away from Alaska be damned, the “stink-finger” from corporate digital rape remains and those on the run, just “take a whiff, take a whiff, take a whiff on me, everybody take a whiff on me”!