The
Definition of Experience:
Inside
the Contract Electronics Manufacturing Services Industry
By
Jim Adameit
One Man's Stand
Against The Corporate Machine. An edgy, racy, action-packed business /
financial / technology thriller, about the global industry that manufactures
and brings us all our smart phones, laptop computers, cloud servers - and
virtually any other electronics products you can think of.
This industry is
known as Contract Manufacturing, or Electronics Manufacturing Services - which
employs hundreds of thousands of people around the world. It could be the
largest industry that most people have never heard of. And you’d be surprised
what really goes on there.
Think this is
boring stuff? In a US $500 billion-dollar global market - with careers, and
THAT much money at stake? Think again...
Excerpt
Milton Raynor rubbed his eyes with both
forefingers, his coke-bottle thick black frame glasses moving up and down on
his face as he did. Both eyes were now dry and burning from over twelve hours
of non-stop use. He’d gone back and
forth between the two 24” workstation displays in front of him, the C and D
sized plotted drawings taped to his cubicle walls, the product specs and bills
of materials strewn on his desk, and various electronic component catalogues on
his side table. Ordinarily he would have left the office after eight hours,
nine hours max. His eyes and his ass usually well tired enough by then to stop
for the day.
But these were especially stressful times,
and they called for extraordinary efforts.
And besides, he had a deadline to meet. A very critical deadline. One
that couldn’t be missed. Milt slid his
chair back and stood, grabbed the top of his blue ceramic coffee mug with
spread fingers, and walked a few hallways over to the break room. Along the
way, he tapped his college class ring on the ceramic, making a clinking sound.
Purdue University, College of Engineering.
A nervous habit he had. It wasn’t unheard of for design engineers to
work late and put in extra hours from time to time. But he was on a special mission.
Milt got to the break room closest to his
cubicle, put his mug under the Keurig, selected a k-cup of high octane dark
Sumatra coffee and got his refill. After
a couple of splashes of powdered creamer he squeezed from the canister, which
he swished around in his cup now holding it by the handle, he was back in
business again. Or almost so. He took a careful sip trying not to burn his
tongue, and then started on his way back to his cube. He passed one of the janitors vacuuming the
dark industrial carpeting that ran through the design wing.
Each wing had different colored cubicle
walls, so if one was lost in the nearly half million square foot building, all
you’d have to do is look over at the partition colors to figure out roughly
where you were, then follow the ROYGBIV sequence back to where you needed to
be. The standing joke was that red was chosen for the engineering area so the
blood stains from over-worked engineers wouldn’t show on the walls. Any
employees who happened to be color blind, had a particular challenge though.
Milt made it back to his desk just in time
to hear his cell phone ring. He carefully put down his coffee, shuffled some
papers off of several stacks, tracing the source of the rings to uncover his
buried iphone. He pushed the button to connect. His finger nails were bitten
back halfway to the cuticle.
“Milt?” “Yes, this is he”, as it
then occurred to him who the voice was on the other end. Milt pulled his chair over and sat down
slowly. “I need a status report from
you”, the man said. He didn’t need to
identify himself, Milt knew who he was.
“I have your schedule right in front of
me. Let’s go over where you are. D-Day is in three weeks. I certainly hope you’re going to tell me
you’re on plan and won’t miss that date. But don’t ever lie to me. Bad things
happen when people lie to me.” Milt felt
his heart pounding, now faster and stronger than usual. He was clear about
D-Day, D for delivery… when all his design deliverables were due. Milt took a
deep breath, and chose his words carefully.
He began to speak, slowly at first, then faster, like he’d taken a
bottle full of speed and they’d just kicked in.
“I’m at work, and on schedule, I’ll make the deadline”, Milt said, his
voice beginning to stutter a little. “Good to hear”, the man said. “You know
what arrangements to make when you’re done, right?” “Yes. Yes, I know what to do when I’m done
with this project”, Milt said. “Fine
then, I’ll let you get back to work.
I’ll check on you again soon.
Don’t miss your deadline”, then the man ended the call before Milt could
say anything else.
He stared at the phone for a few beats,
making sure the caller had indeed gone.
Milt dropped his phone on his desk and sat in his chair for a few
minutes, slowly leaning his head back on an imaginary head rest with his eyes
closed, trying to slow down his breathing. He felt his the back of his neck get
clammy. He tried to do some self-talk that his therapist taught him, to calm
himself down when he was feeling panicked.
That alone wasn’t going to do it though.
After a few minutes with insufficient results, Milt reached into his
middle desk drawer. The one against the left side cubicle wall, pushing random
pieces of paper aside to get to the back of the drawer. Then he stopped, and
stood up, craning his head all around to see if anyone was nearby.
Satisfied he had no unplanned visitors or
other interlopers, Milt sat back down and reached into the desk again. He felt
with his left hand for the small metal divider that portioned off the very back
part of that drawer. He then pulled the
divider forward, which he’d rigged with two springs on swivel pins attached to
the drawer, so it’d move back and forth like a small door for easy access, to
hide the back compartment. Milt reached
in further, and pulled out one of two plastic green Mountain Dew bottles he had
hidden back there. He quickly screwed off the lime green cap and poured the
equivalent of two shots into his coffee cup. But it wasn’t the yellow green of
Mountain Dew. It was the amber brown of
Maker’s Mark. He carefully put the cap
back on, making sure not to cross thread the cap onto the bottle, and reversed
his procedure, stowing the bottle back into its hiding place, until the next
time Milt needed it. That might be a few minutes from now, or might be in an
hour, but he knew he’d need it again before too long. Meditation and self-talk
only did so much.
The
Definition of Experience is only 0.99 on Kindle for a LIMITED TIME
Jim Adameit
Jim Adameit is the author of 'The
Definition of Experience', his debut ‘corporate noir’ / technology thriller
novel. Jim is a 30+ year veteran of the Contract Manufacturing / Electronic
Manufacturing Services (CM/EMS) Industry – an industry sometimes controversial,
and always extremely competitive. He’s held
global positions in project management, sales and marketing, and manufacturing
operations. Jim’s confident those in the CM/EMS industry will easily relate to
the business aspects, terminology, and drama - and hopeful that others
unfamiliar will find this a fascinating and insightful journey into new
world. Think early business thrillers
from Joseph Finder - ‘Company Man’, ‘Paranoia’, ‘Power Play’ - meets Michael
Crichton’s ‘Disclosure’.
Jim’s been described as “…the Tom Clancy
of corporate techno-thrillers – delightfully complex and wildly entertaining.”
He’s now writing his second novel, the
sequel to this one, entitled ‘The Definition of a Secret’.
(PS - the electronic device on which
you're reading this, was made by a company in this industry!)
Connect with Jim: Website • Twitter • Goodreads.
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See you on your next coffee break!
Take Care,
Mary Anne xxx