No need for alarm
by Andy Behrendt
About a half hour ago, I was sitting at a computer station on the bottom floor of Gullixson Hall and translating some Greek for my Synoptic Gospels course when, unable to wait any longer, I caved in and went to ABC.com to watch the beginning of last night's episode of "Lost." (I had fallen asleep after dinner yesterday, the effects of a very late night/morning of homework on Tuesday, and although my wife woke me up just before the start of the big season premiere, I was more than a little groggy for a few minutes.)
Well, as soon as the episode started playing on my workstation, this loud, awful series of three buzzing noises filled my ears. "Dang," I thought, "These little computers can crank out some sound." Then I realized that, although loud buzzing noises are characteristic of "Lost," this noise was not coming through my headphones but from somewhere else. Those of us sitting at our computers looked up to realize it was the fire alarm — a very loud, annoying fire alarm.
I knew that every once in a great while, fire alarms go off for a good reason, and I packed up my stuff and walked outside. Other people weren't as concerned — or more notably, not as annoyed. The other students stayed at their computer stations, and custodial staff continued to polish the beautiful golden handrails near the main entrance (I always give them a lot of credit for that job).
I had sat outside for five minutes or more while trying to get some reading done when one of the women standing outside came to the conclusion that although many students, faculty and staff had exited, nothing was happening. She got out her cell phone and called the seminary's information desk and found out no one had reported the alarm yet. This woman, as she later told me, is a Luther graduate and was in the building this morning on a visit to the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America's Eastern Minnesota Resource Center. She was (1) a firefighter for five years in Kansas and (2) knew the number for the seminary information desk offhand because she worked there when she was a student. If we didn't have this perfectly qualified individual in our midst, who knows how long it would have taken for someone to finally report the alarm.
A couple more minutes passed, and then seminary maintenance staff arrived and turned off the alarm. Then we all stood around for another 10 minutes or so until the same graduate — who in the meantime took on the task of keeping people out of the building — once again took the initiative and asked the investigating maintenance team if we could go back in.
Sure enough, they said we could.
It's a funny thing about people. Some of us can't put up with any annoyance. We'll complain about everything. Others of us will sit around and listen to a fire alarm until our ears bleed. The more effective people are somewhere in between — those who are not about to badger someone with complaints but also aren't comfortable with things not getting fixed.
Speaking of getting things fixed, I never actually got any sound out of my headphones on this computer. I suppose that given the lesson I just learned, I should have probably asked someone if there's a way to fix that. And I would — if I didn't still have a Greek translation to do.
Well, as soon as the episode started playing on my workstation, this loud, awful series of three buzzing noises filled my ears. "Dang," I thought, "These little computers can crank out some sound." Then I realized that, although loud buzzing noises are characteristic of "Lost," this noise was not coming through my headphones but from somewhere else. Those of us sitting at our computers looked up to realize it was the fire alarm — a very loud, annoying fire alarm.
I knew that every once in a great while, fire alarms go off for a good reason, and I packed up my stuff and walked outside. Other people weren't as concerned — or more notably, not as annoyed. The other students stayed at their computer stations, and custodial staff continued to polish the beautiful golden handrails near the main entrance (I always give them a lot of credit for that job).
I had sat outside for five minutes or more while trying to get some reading done when one of the women standing outside came to the conclusion that although many students, faculty and staff had exited, nothing was happening. She got out her cell phone and called the seminary's information desk and found out no one had reported the alarm yet. This woman, as she later told me, is a Luther graduate and was in the building this morning on a visit to the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America's Eastern Minnesota Resource Center. She was (1) a firefighter for five years in Kansas and (2) knew the number for the seminary information desk offhand because she worked there when she was a student. If we didn't have this perfectly qualified individual in our midst, who knows how long it would have taken for someone to finally report the alarm.
A couple more minutes passed, and then seminary maintenance staff arrived and turned off the alarm. Then we all stood around for another 10 minutes or so until the same graduate — who in the meantime took on the task of keeping people out of the building — once again took the initiative and asked the investigating maintenance team if we could go back in.
Sure enough, they said we could.
It's a funny thing about people. Some of us can't put up with any annoyance. We'll complain about everything. Others of us will sit around and listen to a fire alarm until our ears bleed. The more effective people are somewhere in between — those who are not about to badger someone with complaints but also aren't comfortable with things not getting fixed.
Speaking of getting things fixed, I never actually got any sound out of my headphones on this computer. I suppose that given the lesson I just learned, I should have probably asked someone if there's a way to fix that. And I would — if I didn't still have a Greek translation to do.
posted by Andy Behrendt at 10:39 AM
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