I am in a New York City hotel elevator that is heading down from the 19th floor to the first floor. My attention is not trained on the people coming into and going out of the elevator but instead on a small notice taped to the wall about head high. On it are the words, “A copy of the elevator inspection permit is located at the front desk.”
The elevator is not fast. I sense a too-carefree attitude that leads me to believe the elevator has not reached out to gravity to help it get down faster, or that we are taking the scenic route. Or maybe there has been an accident on the Cross Bronx Expressway that has forced it to take a detour.
Eventually there is a soft landing and I get out at the ground floor. As I make my way through the lobby, I pass the front desk and consider requesting to see the elevator inspection permit. It’s not that I doubt it’s there somewhere behind the desk. It’s more that I doubt the clerks know where it is or have ever been asked to produce it.
But there is a line of people waiting to check in or out, and I don’t have time to wait. Nor do I want to slow down a line that might gather behind me. They would not be pleased if they overheard that they are not getting checked into or out of their room because I wanted to test a theory involving an elevator inspection permit.
Though it is comforting to know that the elevators I ride have passed inspection, I wonder why I do not see inspection notices for other modes of transportation I travel on, especially the commercial jetliner that can go up to 40,000 feet and back down, with the help of gravity.
Maybe it’s because buses and trains and planes do not have a front desk at which to place an inspection permit for inspection?
What do elevator inspectors inspect about elevators, I wonder. That’s what I now want to inspect. Here is what I think it looks like:
- Did the elevator go up and down? Yes!
- Did the elevator go to the correct floor? Yes!
- Did the doors open and close? Yes!
- Was the elevator carefree or serious about going up and down? Carefree. 🙁
- Inspection permit report: three out of four stars.
Because the job of an elevator inspector sounds important and not too tiring, I might take it up as a side job when I retire. On the job application, under qualifications, I will point out that every morning, I inspect my face and hair in a mirror. I inspect the milk in my refrigerator for spoilage and the sky for bad weather. I routinely inspect my dogs for ticks and, during hunting season, the local marshes for ducks.
But more important than all these — even the inspection of elevators — I perform routine inspections of myself.
I inspect what really matters in life and what does not. I inspect the relationships I have made and those I have let go — like severing my relationship with a nightly bowl of ice cream.
In a few days I may need to reinspect that decision.
And on my birthday, I inspect all I did the year before and all I hope to do in the year ahead.
For your benefit, I even inspected the final draft of this essay and made a number of corrections and additions so your ride through it would be less bumpy.
FYI, a copy of this essay’s inspection permit is located at a front desk near you.
