When she sang “Smooth Operator” I don’t think Sade had this Heavy Equipment Operator in mind, but I swear I must have stood stock-still dumb founded on the sidewalk staring eyes mesmerized by the excavator at work that day.

I took a book from the library on the Excavator. Hydraulics flex and stretch the Arm hinged at the elbow just like ours.  The Hull of the tank is the body’s frame. The Bucket opens and closes, the upper jaw with its sharp teeth, the lower jaw with its ice cream scoop.

Jaws opened wide and closed, took big bites, heaved and lifted heavy chunks then broke up the big chunks by dropping one on another with aplomb, “Boom!” crunching concrete into cookie crumbs. The snout poked and pushed, smashed and shoved like a dog through his dog dish supper, like a horse leaning its neck into the trough. The long-neck dinosaur’s teeth punched and stomped down its fist in a knuckle sandwich. The snout and shoved The Heavy Equipment Operator’s CAT 320F™ excavator was a horse pawing the ground with its hoof.

The cab where he sits can spin 360 degrees, left right, forward back, up down, swivels independent of the base and moves on round rotate roller tracks just like that army vehicle. A turret moves full circle 360 degrees. He could move one way, then t’other, the cab independent of both the track and the arm. The track is wide, thick; either of two endless belts with large grooves.**  The tracks won’t get punctured the way tires would. There’s a roller inside those tracks. At first the track reminded me of the army tank that soldiers pop up and tumble out of. The Brits invented the military warfare tank it resembles in 1918 as an alternative to bloody trench warfare.* Another author claims that William Otis Smith invented the “first mechanical excavator” in 1835.**

After he dug and shoved it around he leveled the rough ground, smoothing out the frosting on his cake. He would be excellent at pic-up-sticks or The Claw at a carnival.

I worried about the danger; wanted to protect the operator. After he’s dug he’s created insecure footing, uneven terrain. Can he spread the weight? Get stuck? Or tippy?  He could fall into the ditch, the trench hole he created. How does he know how deep to scoop? What’s stable vs. unstable ground? Tipsy? His cohort had a one-word reply. “Experience.” 

Does his wife know? Does she cringe and curdle with concern?

He’s a smooth operator, that driver.  I swear it.  His team mates drove so well-behaved, polite, even. The way he rotates his cabin, his precision and acumen, his agility and finesse star-struck me into silence. He used his joy stick with the delicacy of tweezers.  He can pluck my eyebrows anytime.

                   *&*&*&

*Source: Loveless, A.   Tank Warfare, Crabtree Publ., N.Y., 2009.

**Murray, Julie, Excavators, published by ABDO, Mpls., MN., 2019.

Webster’s Dictionary: Excavate: to make a hollow; dig into, scoop out material; unearth.

Elizabeth’s work is published in Antonym, Barzakh, Bluntly, Coffin Bell, Denver, Drunk Monkey, Enizigam, Haute Dish, Helen Lit, Horseshoes and Hand Grenades, In Parenthese, Indie Blue,  Meat for tea, Obra/Artifact, Denver Quarterly, Open Arts Forum, Oregon State’s “45th Parallel,” Poached Hare, Poets Choice, Underwood, Wingless Dreamer.