Three words: Electrical Power Systems. I started out as an industrial electrician, but somewhere along the line I couldn’t find the mental challenges to make me feel satisfied with my job. I was in a union work environment, working for a major chemical producer. ALL craftsmen, painters, machinists, insulators, pipefitters, electricians, etc. made the same wage. Now I’m trying hard not to sound like I’m putting down the work that others do, but paint application is hardly in the same category of lethality as the potential hazard uncovered by taking the plate off a wall outlet.

Worse, among the forty-something electricians I worked with, I got paid just as much as the idiot who couldn’t wire that light switch, and yes, we had some.

So one day I was making my way through duties at one of my employer’s powerhouses and I ran across a contractor technician working on some protective relays. We got to talking and I found out that they were looking for somebody in their local office. That evening, I made one phone call, and the rest is, as they say, history.

I was dumped into the bottom of a very steep learning curve. I was a GOOD electrician. I’d put myself in the top two or three at the plant where I was working, but I found out quickly that I was a big frog in a little pond, and I’d just transferred to the Atchafalaya Swamp. So I learned. I studied manuals. I dove into the most technical aspects of every task I was assigned. I looked for the edgy stuff, the new technology. I found out who was really knowledgeable among my clients’ engineering staff and I picked those guys’ brains whenever I could. And over a period of time, I found myself where I am today, pretty much at the top of THIS heap.

I work with electrical power systems.

Generators, driven by diesel or natural gas piston engines or steam or gas turbines. I’d do hydro-electric too, there just isn’t much of that down here.

Transformers. Some small enough to hold in the palm of your hand, others forty feet tall, holding a couple of railroad cars full of insulating oil.

Cables and wiring, from little bitty stuff the size of your phone cord to power cables thick as your thigh and rated for many thousands of volts.

Circuit breakers, from the size you find in your “breaker box” to outdoor circuit breakers thirty feet tall, suitable for switching 500,000 volts in the national power grid.

Meters measuring volts, amps, watts and other things that would take a while to explain.

Protective devices of vintages from 1920 to 2004, some that could be adjusted by a guy with a screwdriver, others requiring a laptop computer and an Ethernet link.

Battery banks that would (and do) fill a room.

And I sit down and put the whole thing together and make sure it works as intended. Sometimes that is the way it is designed. Sometimes not. And I’m supposed to know the difference. Sometimes I do, but if I don’t, there’s very good chance that neither me and the design engineer are going to have the answers easily…

What does all this get me?

A pretty good paycheck. Not huge, but adequate.

Job satisfaction. I get to go places and be treated like the guy who can help somebody out of a bind.

Challenges. I’m in a field where i have to shift from vintage 1940 to vintage 2004, sometimes on the same job, as we maintain, test, repair, modify and install equipment.

Great co-workers. At this end of the system, you don’t find stupid people with poor work habits. They don’t last long if they get here at all. So I work with some real pros.

And that’s what I do.