Current Literature Review

"If I'm going to do this, I better do it right."

I woke up extra early on March 30th, 1982. I left my jeans on my chair and slip into a pair of dress slacks and pick out a nice sweater. The t-shirt and laid-back attitude are staying home today.

I polish off a bowl of Wheaties and page through an issue of Forbes magazine. We have Current Literature Review (CLR) this week. In Larson's class each of us have to perform a review of some article that we found interesting. Public speaking isn't my thing- I would rather hide in the back of the class with Dan and Dean. Even better, skip class and sleep in. But my friend Jerry has given me some advice and it sounded reasonable. This would be a perfect opportunity to try it out.

I have found an article: something short with a few salient bullet points. I read it a couple times and highlight each point so I can find them quickly if I need to. It sounds counter-productive but Jerry says, "Don't write anything down. Don't even make notes, they will only get in the way."

It is a brisk but sunny morning as I scrap the ice off the windshield. My 1976 Monte Carlo starts right up. I let her unwind as I cross the river into Moorhead. The parking lot at Moorhead State University (MSU) is sparse before my 8:00 AM class. I'm early. The classroom is an interior room with no windows. No distractions as I read through the article again. My fellow students wander in. Dan comes in first, Dean much later. Dan notices I'm reading. He doesn't say anything. He knows it's CLR this week and there is a 1-in-30 chance of getting chosen first and 1-in-5 of getting picked today. That's why we're hiding in the back.

Larson bustles into the room, sets her purse on the front desk. She announces updates on the class schedule, but the CLR is still on.

"We're doing Current Literature Reviews this week, so lets get started. Anyone want to go first?" She asks.

This is the moment of truth. I really don't want to go through with this but, "Once you go first, you're done for the week." I kept repeating this mantra to myself. My hand slowly inches into the air. Dan and Dean look over with horror- as if I'm volunteering to get shot.

"Excellent! Mr. Maas you're first."

I walk to the front of the class. I open the Forbes magazine and place it on the podium. I give Larson a nervous smile. I looked at my fellow students, no reason to be nervous. Thanks to me they all feel like they've dodged a bullet.

The article itself is unimportant. I reviewed the bullet points and discussed the relevant aspects as it related to the class. I narrowed my focus into a simple one-on-one conversation with Larson. I occasionally glanced at the other students. Half were politely watching; the other half could have been asleep.

I received few questions from the students and a couple from Larson. The questions were not difficult and soon my ordeal was over.

"Thank you Mr. Maas for interesting discussion." She dismissed me with a smile.

It went well, and I gained all the advantages of going first. I also had Larson's 9:00 AM class. [One Larson class was bad but two in a row was exasperating.]

Between classes, Larson came up to me and complemented me on hitting all the elements she was looking for: dressing up, eye contact, and a mastery of the material.

Jerry was right, "give her what she asks for not what you think she wants."

As the weeks progressed I found it harder and harder to go first as more students realized there was a method to my madness. By the end of the quarter even Dan and Dean were highlighting magazines and trying to volunteer… from the back.

Douglas Guardian Dogs

"Will Vollmers ever shut up?"

It is almost 10:00 PM and this night class seems like it has been going on forever. I thought he was going to call it a night when he finished Chapter 4, but he decided to keep going. It wouldn't be so bad but I got plans, one of which is a prank that will live on for years. Vollmers finishes Chapter 5 in Logistics, and I bolt out of the classroom. I don't stop until I get to the library. I have some articles to research for Larsen's class tomorrow.

In the car I'm trying not to look crazy as I'm laughing while driving across town.

As a trusted employee of Environmental Control Inc. (ECI) I have a key to the building. Even though it isn't odd for anyone to be working late, no one works this late. ECI is a wholesale distributor of Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioners. On March 30th 1982, ECI's primary line was Carrier. But because of the credit crunch ECI didn't actually own their Carrier Inventory, it was sold on consignment through a field warehousing agreement with Douglas-Guardian Warehouse Corp. The terms of the contract called for the inventory to be segregated and secured. Only an authorized agent of Douglas-Guardian (DG) would have access to this inventory. My pal Vic Teigen was that agent. He had the key to the DG area in the warehouse; that area was protected by chicken wire.

Vic and I laughed about the security, inventing outlandish security scenarios, and planning security upgrades including patrol dogs.

I had a cheap GE micro cassette recorder for note taking. It featured a microphone jack and a remote jack. The remote jack would switch the recorder on and off.

I recorded the following message…

Hey, what are you doing!

This is a secure Douglas-Guardian Warehouse.

Leave this area at once, or I shall be forced to release the dogs.

(and with that I started barking like a we had half a dozen Dobermans.)

The key was in Victor's desk. I unlocked the DG gate and placed the recorder above. I tied a string from the gate to the remote plug on the recorder. Once the gate was opened the string would pull the remote plug from the recorder and it would start playing my message.

However there was a flaw in my plan. First thing in the morning, Victor normally unlocked but rarely opened the gate. I needed Victor to open the gate and not your boss. The solution was staring me in the face. I set a drain pan kit on the floor. Victor would see the kit lying on the floor and assume it fell off the stack. He would open the gate, return the kit to its proper place, and trigger my prank.

When I arrived the following day, Victor, Brian and the entire ECI crew were still talking about the Douglas Guardian Dogs and the surprise message that befell Victor that morning. It's a prank Victor talks about to this day.