Sixty Three Days In The Footsteps Of Og

In mid-December, 1994 I responded to an ad for an exhibit installer. The company was a union shop called Presentations South Incorporated - PSI for short. They had been in business for a long time, which in this business isn't all that long - maybe twelve years. I had never heard of them, but they had heard of Image International. They hired me anyway.

There were no exhibits going out during the last days of December or early January. Jim Matthews assigned me to a table at the far end. It was covered with what we lovingly refer to as "crap," so my first task was to dig out. As I unearthed artifacts and asked what to do with them, everyone was reminded of the previous resident of this "cursed" table: Og, they called him, because they thought he looked and acted like a Neanderthal carpenter. His real name was... Frank! Yes, the Lemonade Stand owner. They were amazed and amused to hear my stories about Space Concepts. I didn't tell them about the tax scam. I wasn't sure whether anything was going to come of it, so I didn't make it public.

My first project was to help the guy at the next table. He was working on a piece of the new "Tomorrowland Express" set for The Magic Kingdom. This was my first clue that Disney was at last updating "Tomorrowland," a showcase of technology from the sixties. Anyway, Brian had put together this section of a wing with all of the framing in the wrong places. He gave it to me to knock out the sticks and install new sticks in the right places. Jim Matthews wandered by a while later. "Hmmm," he said, "fucked up already." I looked to Brian to straighten out this misunderstanding. Brian just stood there smirking. Grrrr.

When I got home from my first day, there was a message on our answering machine from F/X Scenery And Display. I had sent them a resume back in '93, and they still had it. They wanted to talk to me about being their shop foreman. If I had known where things were headed at PSI, I would have jumped at it. But after only one day on the job, I thought it would be bad form to bail. So I called Eddie Channell and told him that F/X was looking for a shop foreman. He jumped on it. He was still clinging to the last turds circling the flushing toilet bowl of Noro Orlando Associates, formerly known as Image International.

Life at PSI hardly got any better. Laminating was a huge part of the job, and I was totally inept at it. Matthews kept telling me to get advice from the other guys. Each one of the other guys had a different way of doing things that worked for them - but not for me. One of my projects went on display in the break room so the guys could have a good laugh whenever they saw it.

Meanwhile, I was frantically looking for another job.


Finally an exhibit became ready for assembly and prepping for installation. Their main installer, Jamie and I spent three days assembling and tweaking and figuring out hardware and inventing ways to make it work. For those three days I was living my potential. Then it was back to Og's bench.

For another couple of days, Jim Matthews had me going through the Tomorrowland pieces and working out hardware and other assembly issues. That, too, was a good use of my skills. Then I was put on the Tomorrowland installation crew, about eight guys hauling in big pieces and bolting them in place. I had worked out the hardware, and therefore was a valued member of the team. We worked from 9:00 at night until 6:00 in the morning for four nights. This left my days free to interview and negotiate with Tony Chapman of Central Florida Display. He needed a production manager. I needed to get the hell out of PSI


After sixty days I could join the union and become a full-fledged PSI employee. March was fast approaching. Tony needed a guy to get his Easter displays done. I was in no hurry to join the PSI union etcetera. I talked it over with Jim Matthews and he agreed that it was best for me to go. I gave notice and was gone after sixty three days. Out of the frying pan...