Marnie Surfaceblow: What Helped Make Marnie, Marnie

Long-time POWER readers may remember Marmaduke Surfaceblow, a fictional character whose engineering escapades were brilliantly portrayed in hundreds of stories published within POWER magazine’s pages over more than 30 years beginning in 1948. Today, the fictional series continues through Marmy’s granddaughter, Marnie, who is an engineering wiz in her own right.

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Negativity can push you off your course in life. This is when Marnie first pushed back.

“Any signal, Maya?” asked Marnie Surfaceblow, vice president of Surfaceblow & Associates International, as she sat against the shady side of their dead rental car in the middle of a desert truly worthy of the name. Maya Sharma, her lead field engineer, stood on the trunk of the car with mobile phone held high.

Shaking her head, Maya climbed down to share the shade and a water bottle with Marnie. “Not even one signal bar. However, by walking to those hills along our route, we can likely summon help,” she said.

Squinting through a heat mirage, Marnie frowned and responded, “That’s two miles’ walk without shade. The temperature is 115F, and we have three gallons of coffee and one gallon of water between us.”

“Kindly keep your coffee, ma’am,” Maya replied. “As you often say, it has sufficient milk and sugar to make pancakes with, and you need the nutrition. I, however, am far younger and greatly more physically fit than yourself.”

“I see …” Marnie said, green eyes glaring just a bit. “Do you have a plan?”

“We remain in this shade until the sun descends below those hills approximately two hours hence. Walking at three kilometers per hour with brief rests every 15 minutes, we should reach the crest in 90 minutes. Should we have cellular signal, we summon help and wait in the shade,” Maya responded.

Nodding, Marnie asked, “And if we find no signal, oh Devi of the Desert?”

“My GPS says it is a 10-kilometer walk to the last sign of inhabitation at the motorway junction, where I know there was also a signal. Your Louboutins may be luxurious, but they would not last half that distance. So, we would return here and utilize washer fluid, coolant, and items from our luggage to make an evaporative cooling tent. We set the spare tire ablaze 100 meters from the vehicle while daylight remains, making a smoke signal visible at least 30 kilometers away. We then attempt using our skills and tools to circumvent the engine computer and escape. Should midnight arrive without rescue, I shall take half our remaining liquid and retrace our path at a five kilometer per hour pace …”

“Back to that one junction, where I noticed you updating your resume on LinkedIn,” Marnie interjected, watching Maya’s reaction with narrowed eyes.

“Ma’am!” Maya exclaimed, put on the spot by Marnie’s sharp observation. “It is part of putting our company’s best foot forward, as you say. And while I have received scores of offers, most offering superior pay and benefits, I have no intention of leaving your employment, because, well, you make engineering both fascinating and fun.” Pausing for a moment, Maya turned and gave Marnie a smile, which was returned. “By the way, ma’am, you are so very unique in the engineering world. Were you always such a, well, character? Or what influenced you?”

“A character,” Marnie repeated flatly. “So be it; I wear my uniqueness with pride. And since I have a couple of hours to kill, let me share the story I’ve never told anyone, of when everything changed for me.”

A Disrespectful Boss

“Miss Surfaceblow! Everyone’s waiting on you! What is your problem?” Iain Wright, lead field engineer of Surfaceblow & Associates International, bellowed with a fury that reminded Marnie of Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from the film “Full Metal Jacket.” She quit her impromptu plumbing repairs and exited the ladies’ room.

Facing her scowling boss, Marnie sheepishly said, “I’m sorry, it’s just, their toilet has a cracked tank, the floor drain is clogged, and there’s a large pool of water …”

Iain yelled, “ARE you a bathroom attendant OR an engineer? Should I call your grandpa and tell him he wasted his money on your so-called engineering Master’s degree?” With a look of disgust, he stomped off toward the plant conference room, with Marnie jogging to catch up.

It turned out everyone was late for the meeting, something her boss didn’t comment on. As the plant staff filed in and exchanged greetings, Marnie overheard muttered maledictions from Iain about having a “slacker” tagging along on the trip. Dale Dietrich, manager of the Andrew Henry Power Plant, greeted Marnie warmly, and said, “It’s no big deal, Iain. And while I admit being disappointed the legendary Marmaduke couldn’t make it here again, I’m sure his granddaughter inherited some of his genius.”

Only eight plant staff were in the meeting, representing the entire site workforce. Dale was about to start the meeting, when Marnie cleared her throat nervously. “Excuse me sir, I like starting meetings with a safety moment,” she said. “I want to emphasize the potential dangers of water leaks in the plant and engineering offices, which can lead to slips and falls, and even …”

“I’m sorry gents,” Iain interrupted. “As you can see, the little missy is still wet behind the ears and trying to impress everyone.” Pausing to glare at Marnie, he continued, “We’re here to install a pair of continuous emissions monitoring systems—CEMS—and do some steam line pressure testing for your new gas boilers, not mop your floors or do your dishes. Mr. Surfaceblow tells me you had a fine old coal boiler, until you wore all the tubes too thin—even the drum was about to go. We kept your plant among the living by repowering your steam turbine with two natural gas package boilers. Too bad you had to give up on good, old faithful coal.”

Without thinking, Marnie added, “But we know your parent company lost a major gas customer, and the pipeline constraints make it much more economically viable to …”

“That’s quite enough,” Iain again interrupted. “You know what, if you’re distracted by trivia, why don’t you go make fresh coffee for the real engineers?”

1. A young Marnie, having been dismissed by Iain to make coffee, struggled to hear the plans being developed in the conference room. Source: POWER

Marnie struggled to meet the command for coffee, hands shaking as she strained vainly to overhear the conference room discussion (Figure 1). Returning just as the meeting ended, her reward was a snort of contempt from Iain. “You’d better work faster than that installing those CEMS, little missy! Don’t embarrass me and your grandpa on this project! Now move your rear and grab our gear!” She reached for the last coffee mug, but Iain snatched it away, downed it in one gulp, and smiled chillingly at her. “Make sure you do the dishes too.”

A Creepy Operator and Dreary Setting

The CEMS programmable logic controllers (PLCs) were to be installed in the dusty circuitry room adjacent to the control room. Serving double duty as general storage, Marnie and her island of PLC hardware and manuals were surrounded by a sea of ancient leaking chemical drums, broken tools, and stacks of damp yellow papers. Her normally straightforward task was complicated by Iain insisting that the new CEMS re-use the old stack monitor wiring. “But sir,” she said in despair, “there’s 52 randomly colored unlabeled wires, some missing insulation or even conductors!”

Iain snorted with disdain, “Well, ring the bell, little missy! The school of hard knocks is now in session. Deal with it. I need to do some real work inspecting the turbine.”

After a brief trip to the plant library to borrow an electrical code book, Marnie’s attention was drawn by day operator, Randall Williams, using a rubber mallet to hammer on a control room cabinet. With some trepidation, Marnie said, “Hello. Is there, um, I mean, can I help?”

Randall, a middle-aged Lothario, who believed his circa-1976 mustache was the key to every woman’s heart, paused and grinned at her. “Hey, little lady, just fixing a loose wire. The last couple weeks the lighting’s been on the fritz, but usually giving the board a love tap or three makes it see things my way. Just like maybe you might see your way to dinner tonight? I know a cozy bar and grill that could put some meat on your bones. Not that there’s anything missing from what I can see,” he said.

Disgustingly disappointed, Marnie deflected the come-on by fibbing, “Oh! That’s really sweet of you, but Iain said he was taking me out. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Sure thing,” Randall said, leaning in too close for comfort. “It’s a date.”

Returning to the relative safety of the circuitry room, Marnie realized that despair never truly had a bottom. “Down and down, there is no up …” she sang softly to herself from a song she knew.

Cutting Corners

The 4 p.m. shift change arrived far too soon. Iain shook his head in disgust as Marnie frantically tried isolating several crossed wires. Prefaced by profanity, Iain bellowed, “Miss Surfaceblow! I know you aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but you can’t even hook up ONE CEMS in a day?!”

Pushed almost to her breaking point, Marnie snapped, “I told you re-using the old harness was a bad idea! What’s more, it might violate the electrical code. I saw our contract budgeted for new wiring harnesses, and you didn’t …”

Turning red with rage, Iain punched the door, making Marnie jump. “You little … what business do you have snooping into MY business!? I’d kick your butt back home right now, except I need you to fix YOUR mess first!” Iain gestured at the PLCs and wiring, adding, “In fact, you’re staying here until the job is done, even if it takes you all night!”

As Marnie struggled to even speak, Iain stalked around the room, shaking his head, then shouted, “New wiring harnesses are expensive, and running it could add a week to the schedule—a year, if you did it. Never mind the parts cost, the labor cost is outrageous! You may be used to your ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ lifestyle, little missy, but money means something to us in the real world—and to our customers!”

Marnie stood silently, fighting back tears as Iain walked to the control room, where he met the plant staff as everyone headed out to a combination steakhouse and strip club. In the silence that followed, she recalled her years living in her tiny student apartment—countless hours working overtime while carrying a full load of coursework, wearing thrift store and hand-me-down clothes, and living off tomato soup and ramen noodles. “My ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ lifestyle?” she muttered.

It was then she decided, “I’m resigning as soon as possible, but not until I make this equipment work and finish this job with honor.”

A Stoic Partner

Hours later Marnie started feeling sick, which wasn’t helped by a growing fear she had damaged electrical equipment. The fluorescent lights flickered randomly in the control room, and twice a circuit breaker tripped on the boiler master controller. At about 9 p.m. a backup diesel generator alarmingly started for no reason, which the plant staff complacently chalked up to “one of those things.”

Around midnight Billy Dawnhorse, the lead overnight operator, checked in on Marnie, and discovering she’d missed both lunch and dinner, he insisted she share his dinner in the control room. Unlike most of the plant staff, Billy treated her respectfully, and while she wolfed down her half of his meal, she listened as Billy, an old-timer with nearly 40 years’ plant experience. He talked about his life growing up and raising a family on the nearby Shoshone reservation. After asking several questions about the PLC installation work she was attempting, Billy made her entire day by showing her his hand-sketched color wiring diagram, which included the stack monitor wiring. Billy then added icing to the electronic cake by helping Marnie install the first PLC, and by 2 a.m. both PLCs were fully operational and going through their self-diagnostics.

While thanking Billy with a sudden warm hug, she spilled out the entire story of the verbal abuse from Iain, followed by the story of her lackluster life. Then came feelings of fear, doubt, and pain. Billy, who had listened silently but attentive, handed Marnie his clean blue handkerchief.

Looking Marnie in the eyes, Billy calmly said, “Tears mean that you care—about the challenges you face, your work, even the honor of your family name. Take pride that you completed your job with dignity.”

Marnie’s smile beamed as she composed herself. “I only got it working thanks to you and your wiring diagram. And it’s beautiful; it looks like the pattern in a finely woven shawl,” she said.

“I drew it to celebrate after I spent almost a year solving the puzzle of the wiring,” Billy said. “The warp and weft of the lines are symbolic of my evolution into a whole person during that time, the hardships I faced, and my feeling of victory upon completion.” Pausing and frowning with concern after noticing an odd look on Marnie’s face, Billy asked, “Ma’am, are you feeling sick?”

“I … don’t know,” replied Marnie, as she realized she was slightly dizzy and saw her vision flicker. She’d always been sensitive to industrial gases, but she didn’t smell the ethyl mercaptan in natural gas—nor did Billy, when asked, although he did feel a little queasy himself.

Excusing herself, Marnie walked upstairs to the ladies’ room, only barely conscious of the half inch of water covering the floor from the leaky toilet tank. Sitting in a chair near the bathroom supply cabinet, she held her head in her hands, gazing down into the pool of still water around her feet. After sitting for several minutes, she felt her head lighten, although her mood grew heavy.

She whispered to her reflection in the water, “I wanted to make a difference, escape the shadow of my family name, make the world better for all, and crush bullies like Iain. I can’t just be placid, blending in with the wallpaper, barely even noticed except as an annoyance—like this leaky toilet. I need to re-engineer … myself.”

Without warning an epiphany came, so powerful that its frisson raised goosebumps on Marnie’s arms. Stunned, she addressed her reflection, “Constant water leak. Clogged floor drain. Constant water level. Where is the water going?”

“Great Caesar’s ghost!” she yelled, running as quickly as she safely could downstairs to the maintenance building.

Take No Prisoners

Marnie exploded into the control room juggling five explosive gas detectors, two of them already moaning a deadly duet. Facing Billy and three operators she hadn’t met, she yelled, “Everyone get out of here now! Don’t turn on or off any switches! You, yes, you, put out that cigarette NOW! I can’t even begin to tell you how stupid you are. Billy—how can we safely ventilate this area?”

Billy thought for a moment, then sprinted away to start the emergency ventilation fans. The three other operators simply smirked, staring at her in amazement. The youngest one, with his cigarette still hanging from his mouth, smirked, “Abandon our post? Says who, missy?”

Just then the other three explosive gas detectors turned the duet into a five-part harmony of doom. Still not realizing the import, the operators froze with indecision. Grabbing a broom and snapping the head cleanly off with her foot, Marnie held the broomstick like a katana. “Says these strident sirens of sudden DEATH, this broomstick I will not hesitate to use on your behinds, and most importantly, ME, MARNIE TISIPHONE SURFACEBLOW!”

Her message was received, and the three bolted for the door, with Marnie chasing them the whole way.

A Dangerous Drip

The plant staff, Dale the manager, and Iain arrived on the scene an hour later, all of them stinking of alcohol and cheap perfume, as the local fire department was wrapping up their paperwork. Marnie leaned casually against the fire captain’s truck, as Iain rushed up and started yelling, “You little brat! Are you happy now? You almost destroyed …”

“Pipe down, mister!” yelled the fire captain, who then spent the next 10 minutes summarizing all the events, emphasizing Marnie’s positive action. Marnie listened, filing her nails with seeming disinterest.

Finishing his explication, the fire captain said, “Turns out your toilet leak was shorting out electrical systems for nearly two weeks, and none of you even tried fixing it. I’m citing you for that, and for improper chemical storage. Not only was that leak shorting out your plant controls, water spilled into a rusty barrel of calcium carbide, reacting with it and releasing acetylene gas. Doggonit Dale, acetylene’s explosive range is from 3% to 82% in air! Everyone onsite owes their lives to Miss Surfaceblow here. She noticed the acetylene, used her head, and got everyone safely evacuated.”

“Why on earth was there so much calcium carbide onsite?” wondered Dale out loud. Marnie, trimming a troublesome cuticle, responded, “Carbide used to power all types of lighting, from rock mine lights to car headlights. As old as your plant is, who knows what chemical catastrophes await discovery?”

Iain, trying to regain the upper hand, laid into Marnie again. “OK little missy, you got lucky this time, but …”

“You heard the captain, pipe down. And my name’s not ‘little missy’ or any permutation thereof—it’s minority voting shareholder Ms. Marnie Surfaceblow of Surfaceblow & Associates International. Grandfather Marmaduke reminded me of that when I gave him a full report just half an hour ago,” Marnie interjected. Looking up from her nails, her green eyes positively glowed with cold strength. As she took two steps to face down Iain, he involuntarily stepped back from her new presence.

Iain tried to speak, but was cut off by Marnie, as she hissed, “Give me the rental car keys, NOW. See, I told my grandfather every single way you behaved disrespectfully toward his granddaughter, and one of the plant operators—who used to work with grandfather back in the day—confirmed everything I said. Your butt is going on a flight back to headquarters today, and I’m staying here to perform a comprehensive plant safety assessment. I’m also supposed to tell you that if you say anything other than ‘Yes ma’am,’ you’re fired.”

Iain, now white as a ghost, fished for the rental car keys, meekly handed them to Marnie, and softly said, “Sorry, ma’am.”

As Iain trudged off to call a cab, Marnie jumped on the hood of the fire captain’s truck and addressed the milling crowd of plant management and staff waiting for the all-clear to enter the plant. “People! Together we are going to bring this plant back online with your new boilers and a new safety culture as well! But first, someone get me a gallon of coffee. NOW!”

Back to the Future

By sheer coincidence, Marnie finished her story just as a state trooper arrived, attracted by smoke from the spare tire Maya had ignited only half an hour earlier. “That is an incredible story, ma’am. So, that’s why you have that unusual artwork behind your desk?” Maya asked.

“Billy’s magnum opus, which he gave me when he retired,” Marnie confirmed. “His wiring diagram, kindness, and wisdom started my journey towards me. And now, let’s see if this state trooper can help us continue our journey to a hotel with air conditioning, showers, and coffee.”

—Una Nowling, PE is an adjunct professor of mechanical engineering at the University of Missouri-Kansas City.