Chapter 5 chapter Five
I work six days a week in the men's department of Mandel Brothers, seven nights in the coat locker at the Commercial Center Hotel, and go to the Aflemo's drug store on Saturdays, and I still don't have enough money .Otto found a part-time job at a telephone exchange in the South District. This kind of job is similar to the current telemarketing job. The task is to sell products to strangers by phone.
The place of work is a large empty room. There are about a dozen people in it, each holding a phone, and they are constantly selling oil wells, hot stocks and other investment projects that sound very attractive to potential customers.This job is stressful.Specialists sell directories and phone numbers of potential customers to telephone exchanges.If the deal is concluded, the salesman can withdraw the commission.
After returning home in the evening, Otto would happily chat with us about the exchange.The exchange is open seven days a week, so I'm going to drop by and maybe make some extra money on Sunday.Otto arranged a trial for me, and I went to work with him the following Sunday.I stood in that big dreary room, listening to the salesmen's rhetoric:
"...Mr. Collins, it was a pleasure to call you. This is Jason Richard and I have some good news for you. Your family has won a free VIP tour to Bermuda, all you need to do is send me a check ..."
"Mr. Adams, I have some good news for you. I'm Brown, Jim Brown. I know you invest in stocks, and now you have a new issue that will go up a hundred times in six weeks. Not many people know this news, but If you want to make some money..."
"Mrs. Doyle, I'm Charlie Chase. Congratulations. You and your husband, and little Amanda and Peter have won a free tour..."
And so on and on.
I am amazed, how many people will pay for the pies in the sky that these salesmen are talking about.For some reason, doctors seem to be the most gullible group, and they will accept almost everything as they are ordered.Most of the stuff these guys sell is either substandard, ridiculously expensive, or doesn't exist.
I had enough of one Sunday at the phone exchange and never went back.
The job at Mandel Brothers was tedious and easy, but I wasn't looking for easy.I want a challenge, a job that gives me opportunities to grow.I knew that if I did a good job here, I would have a chance to move up.One day I will be the head of my department.Mandel Bros. has stores all over the country, and in time I'll be a regional manager and maybe president. One Monday morning, my boss, Mr. Young, came up to me and said, "Sheldon, I have some bad news for you." I stared at him, "What news?" "I have to fire you." I tried to keep my tone as calm as possible, "Did I do something wrong?" "You did nothing wrong. All departments have been notified of layoffs from above. You were the last to join the company, so you have to be the first to leave." I feel like someone has ripped my heart out and is still squeezing hard.I need this job so badly.He didn't know that what he fired was not a mere employee of the men's clothing department, but the future president of the entire company. I knew very well that I had to find another job as soon as possible.Our debts piled up, the fruit and vegetable store bills were not paid, the landlord was pushing rent all day long, the water and electricity at home were cut off several times, and they would be cut off again soon. It occurred to me that there was one person who might be able to help. My father had an old friend, Charlie Vann, who was now a director of a large manufacturing company.I asked Otto if it would be right for me to ask Charlie to help him find a job. Otto thought for a moment, then looked at me and said, "I'll tell him." The next morning, I walked through the imposing doors of the Stewart Warner factory.The factory, the world's largest maker of gearshifts, was a five-story building on Defossie Avenue that took up an entire city block.The guards led me through the factory area, which was full of huge and mysterious machines like prehistoric monsters, and the roar was deafening. A stocky man was waiting for me there.His name was Otto Karp, and he spoke with a thick German accent. "So you're going to come here to work," he said. "Yes, sir." He seemed a little disappointed, "Come with me." We walk through the huge factory building.All machines are running at full speed.As we walked up to a machine, Karp said, "This machine makes the speedometer's drive gear and driven gear, which drives the speedometer's flexible shaft, understand?" I had no idea what he was saying, "Understood." He led me to the next machine again, "Look, the spherical transmission gear coming out of here is to be pressed into the driven shaft of the transmission. The long one is the driven gear, and it needs to be inserted at a suitable angle. Mated with the drive gear." I stared at him and wondered: Is he speaking Chinese or Swahili? We went to the machine on the side again, "The drive gear of the front wheel hub is produced here. The driven gear is installed on the brake support plate to correspond to the drive gear. Understand?" I nodded. He led me forward again, "This machine is to replace old wheels. There is a long-standing standard for transmission, which is front-wheel drive. One of the benefits of it is that the wheel-axle ratio can be changed at will, that is, the rear axle. Changing the ratio of the speedometer will not affect the accuracy of the speedometer, understand?" I understood, he was speaking in Swahili. "clear." "Now I'll take you to see your department." He took me to the short unit where I was going.The machines he had shown me just now were huge, capable of turning out half a million or more gears at a time, for the big orders of the car factories.In the short order department, there are three relatively small machines. Otto Karp explained to me: "If someone wants five or ten gears, it's not worth running a big machine for such a small order. However, the machine here is for one or two gears. Small orders come in When it is time, you deal with it and immediately meet the customer’s request.” "How about a process?" “First, someone hands you an order for maybe one, maybe a dozen drive or driven gears. Then, you give the order to the operator, and when the gear is done, you send the gear to the unwind shop for reinforcement. .Then it is sent to the quality inspection department, and finally to the packaging workshop.” It sounds really easy. I heard that my predecessor did not place more than six orders a day for the short order workshop.He withheld other orders, so that the workers had to sit around doing nothing for half a day.I think it's a waste.In less than a month, I increased production by fifty percent.At Christmas, my hard work paid off.Otto Karp handed me a check for fourteen dollars. "Here you are, and you deserve it. Your salary went up by a dollar."
Otto was still on the move, Natalie was working six days a week at a clothing store, and Richard was starting secondary school.I spent day after day among the surreal machines in the dreary building of the Stewart Warner factory, my mind growing numb.The evening hours are equally bad: take the light rail to the Grand Loop, walk to the hotel where I work, and then spend the next few hours doing two things repeatedly: taking the guest's coat and returning the guest's coat.My life was back in a cloying gray with no way out in sight. Late one night, on my way home by light rail, an ad in the Chicago Tribune caught my eye: Paul Ash was the leader of a band known throughout America, and was playing at the Chicago theater.This ad got me right away.What this amateur competition is all about I don't know, but one thing is clear: I would love to enter. Before going to work at the pharmacy on Saturday, I went to the Chicago theater and asked to see Paul Ash.His agent came out of the office, "Is there anything I can do for you?" "I want to enter the amateur competition," I said. He took a piece of paper and looked at it, "We still need an announcer, can you?" "Yes, sir." "Very well. What's your name?" What is my name?The name Shechter is not suitable for the entertainment industry, and it is always misspelled and mispronounced.I need a name that people will remember.Alternative names raced through my mind: Gable, Cooper, Grant, Stewart, Powell... The man stared at me, "Don't you know what your name is?" "Of course I know." I said hastily. "My name is Sidney Shea-Selton, Sidney Sheldon." He wrote the name down. "Okay then. Come here next Saturday, Sheldon. Six o'clock. It'll be live on WGN." Whatever it is. "OK." I hurried home to tell my parents and brother Richard the news, and they were all excited.One more thing to let them know, too, is, "I'm using a different name." "What's the meaning?" "Well, the name Shechter is not suitable for the entertainment industry. From now on, I will change my name to Sidney Sheldon." They looked at each other, then shrugged, "It doesn't matter." I had trouble sleeping the next few nights.I know that I have finally waited for a new beginning.I would win games and Paul Ash would sign me and take me all over the country.Sidney Shelton was traveling the country with him. The anxiously awaited Saturday finally came. I came to the Chicago theater again, and I was taken into a small studio with several young people who came to compete: a comedian, A singer, a pianist and an accordionist. The director said to me, "Sheldon—" I feel a slight shudder.It was the first time someone called my new name, "Here, sir?" "When I point to you, you walk up to the mic and start performing. You say, 'Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the Paul Ashe Amateur Competition. This is Sid the Announcer Nee Sheldon. We're going to put on a great show, don't walk away!' Got it?" "Yes sir." Fifteen minutes later, the director looked up at the clock on the wall and raised his arms. "Everyone be quiet." He started the countdown, then pointed at me with his finger, and I was about to enter the entertainment industry.I've never been so peaceful in my life because I know this is the beginning of an amazing career.I'm starting this new career with my new stage name. Calmly, I walked up to the microphone, took a deep breath, and said in my sweetest voice, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Paul Ash Amateur Contest. I'm the Announcer— Sidney Shechter."
The job at Mandel Brothers was tedious and easy, but I wasn't looking for easy.I want a challenge, a job that gives me opportunities to grow.I knew that if I did a good job here, I would have a chance to move up.One day I will be the head of my department.Mandel Bros. has stores all over the country, and in time I'll be a regional manager and maybe president. One Monday morning, my boss, Mr. Young, came up to me and said, "Sheldon, I have some bad news for you." I stared at him, "What news?" "I have to fire you." I tried to keep my tone as calm as possible, "Did I do something wrong?" "You did nothing wrong. All departments have been notified of layoffs from above. You were the last to join the company, so you have to be the first to leave." I feel like someone has ripped my heart out and is still squeezing hard.I need this job so badly.He didn't know that what he fired was not a mere employee of the men's clothing department, but the future president of the entire company. I knew very well that I had to find another job as soon as possible.Our debts piled up, the fruit and vegetable store bills were not paid, the landlord was pushing rent all day long, the water and electricity at home were cut off several times, and they would be cut off again soon. It occurred to me that there was one person who might be able to help. My father had an old friend, Charlie Vann, who was now a director of a large manufacturing company.I asked Otto if it would be right for me to ask Charlie to help him find a job. Otto thought for a moment, then looked at me and said, "I'll tell him." The next morning, I walked through the imposing doors of the Stewart Warner factory.The factory, the world's largest maker of gearshifts, was a five-story building on Defossie Avenue that took up an entire city block.The guards led me through the factory area, which was full of huge and mysterious machines like prehistoric monsters, and the roar was deafening. A stocky man was waiting for me there.His name was Otto Karp, and he spoke with a thick German accent. "So you're going to come here to work," he said. "Yes, sir." He seemed a little disappointed, "Come with me." We walk through the huge factory building.All machines are running at full speed.As we walked up to a machine, Karp said, "This machine makes the speedometer's drive gear and driven gear, which drives the speedometer's flexible shaft, understand?" I had no idea what he was saying, "Understood." He led me to the next machine again, "Look, the spherical transmission gear coming out of here is to be pressed into the driven shaft of the transmission. The long one is the driven gear, and it needs to be inserted at a suitable angle. Mated with the drive gear." I stared at him and wondered: Is he speaking Chinese or Swahili? We went to the machine on the side again, "The drive gear of the front wheel hub is produced here. The driven gear is installed on the brake support plate to correspond to the drive gear. Understand?" I nodded. He led me forward again, "This machine is to replace old wheels. There is a long-standing standard for transmission, which is front-wheel drive. One of the benefits of it is that the wheel-axle ratio can be changed at will, that is, the rear axle. Changing the ratio of the speedometer will not affect the accuracy of the speedometer, understand?" I understood, he was speaking in Swahili. "clear." "Now I'll take you to see your department." He took me to the short unit where I was going.The machines he had shown me just now were huge, capable of turning out half a million or more gears at a time, for the big orders of the car factories.In the short order department, there are three relatively small machines. Otto Karp explained to me: "If someone wants five or ten gears, it's not worth running a big machine for such a small order. However, the machine here is for one or two gears. Small orders come in When it is time, you deal with it and immediately meet the customer’s request.” "How about a process?" “First, someone hands you an order for maybe one, maybe a dozen drive or driven gears. Then, you give the order to the operator, and when the gear is done, you send the gear to the unwind shop for reinforcement. .Then it is sent to the quality inspection department, and finally to the packaging workshop.” It sounds really easy. I heard that my predecessor did not place more than six orders a day for the short order workshop.He withheld other orders, so that the workers had to sit around doing nothing for half a day.I think it's a waste.In less than a month, I increased production by fifty percent.At Christmas, my hard work paid off.Otto Karp handed me a check for fourteen dollars. "Here you are, and you deserve it. Your salary went up by a dollar."
Otto was still on the move, Natalie was working six days a week at a clothing store, and Richard was starting secondary school.I spent day after day among the surreal machines in the dreary building of the Stewart Warner factory, my mind growing numb.The evening hours are equally bad: take the light rail to the Grand Loop, walk to the hotel where I work, and then spend the next few hours doing two things repeatedly: taking the guest's coat and returning the guest's coat.My life was back in a cloying gray with no way out in sight. Late one night, on my way home by light rail, an ad in the Chicago Tribune caught my eye: Paul Ash was the leader of a band known throughout America, and was playing at the Chicago theater.This ad got me right away.What this amateur competition is all about I don't know, but one thing is clear: I would love to enter. Before going to work at the pharmacy on Saturday, I went to the Chicago theater and asked to see Paul Ash.His agent came out of the office, "Is there anything I can do for you?" "I want to enter the amateur competition," I said. He took a piece of paper and looked at it, "We still need an announcer, can you?" "Yes, sir." "Very well. What's your name?" What is my name?The name Shechter is not suitable for the entertainment industry, and it is always misspelled and mispronounced.I need a name that people will remember.Alternative names raced through my mind: Gable, Cooper, Grant, Stewart, Powell... The man stared at me, "Don't you know what your name is?" "Of course I know." I said hastily. "My name is Sidney Shea-Selton, Sidney Sheldon." He wrote the name down. "Okay then. Come here next Saturday, Sheldon. Six o'clock. It'll be live on WGN." Whatever it is. "OK." I hurried home to tell my parents and brother Richard the news, and they were all excited.One more thing to let them know, too, is, "I'm using a different name." "What's the meaning?" "Well, the name Shechter is not suitable for the entertainment industry. From now on, I will change my name to Sidney Sheldon." They looked at each other, then shrugged, "It doesn't matter." I had trouble sleeping the next few nights.I know that I have finally waited for a new beginning.I would win games and Paul Ash would sign me and take me all over the country.Sidney Shelton was traveling the country with him. The anxiously awaited Saturday finally came. I came to the Chicago theater again, and I was taken into a small studio with several young people who came to compete: a comedian, A singer, a pianist and an accordionist. The director said to me, "Sheldon—" I feel a slight shudder.It was the first time someone called my new name, "Here, sir?" "When I point to you, you walk up to the mic and start performing. You say, 'Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the Paul Ashe Amateur Competition. This is Sid the Announcer Nee Sheldon. We're going to put on a great show, don't walk away!' Got it?" "Yes sir." Fifteen minutes later, the director looked up at the clock on the wall and raised his arms. "Everyone be quiet." He started the countdown, then pointed at me with his finger, and I was about to enter the entertainment industry.I've never been so peaceful in my life because I know this is the beginning of an amazing career.I'm starting this new career with my new stage name. Calmly, I walked up to the microphone, took a deep breath, and said in my sweetest voice, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Paul Ash Amateur Contest. I'm the Announcer— Sidney Shechter."