Everything is Connected to the White Lines on the Road
/Recently, I was on the highway and spotted the little blips of paint separating the lanes.
I’ve seen them plenty over the years, but this time I really took notice. As I thought about those dashed boundaries, I had an epiphany:
Everything in the world is connected to the white lines on the road.
Allow me to explain.
Start with the Paint
There are several types of paint that can be used based upon the regions and demands for longevity. However, we’re not worried about that. We’re only discussing paint in general—that stuff most of us finger-painted with or splashed over a bedroom wall.
You see, someone had to invent the stuff. That would take some time and ingenuity, of course, but let’s imagine the inventor came up with it in a bolt of inspiration. Poof! Done.
Then the paint-making process would need to be developed. Yipes. That would take more time and ingenuity, but let’s concede that point to speed this along. Poof! Done. We’re really cooking now!
Now, we need a factory to house the production process. Good Lord, I’m really cutting corners here, but—Poof! Done. Moving on.
However, before anyone could build the factory to house a production process to make some paint, an architect had to draw the plans for the building. We just can’t poof an architect into existence. That’s a person and an architect must go to college to learn how to draw those plans.
And before the architect attended college, she went to high school as well as junior high and elementary school. And before the architect could attend any of those schools she was probably born in a hospital.
Well, before the architect could be born in a hospital or attend those schools before college, someone else had to build those buildings. Which means MORE architects and MORE colleges and MORE schools and MORE hospitals. Good Lord! It’s a crazy cycle of buildings and architects.
But I’m forgetting all the stuff needed inside those building.
Let’s think about that simple desk our young architect used in elementary school.
Someone had to design it. Those things don’t just poof into existence.
Then they had to invent the desk-building process.
After that, they needed a factory for the process. Oh, Lord. We’re back to the architects again and we’re only talking about elementary school desks.
What about blackboards and chalk and erasers? And the paper, pencils, and books the kids used?
Somebody had to design those products, create processes to make them, then build factories which meant—you guessed it—MORE architects.
Well, if you don’t like architects, let’s talk about contractors. Contractors are involved in every step of this process. Every tool a contractor uses would need to have been designed, a process put into place to replicate them, a factory created to implement the process and—darn it! We’re back to the architects.
Okay, I’m kidding about the architects. Sometimes they’re the only ones that get paid in a deal, but they’re fine people.
But you see my point, right? Just to make some paint took an endless stream of people, materials, and education.
Wow. Crazy, right?
Uh. Wait. What do we put the paint in?
Here We Go Again
The process I explained above would replicate itself for the paint can.
But here’s something I hadn’t thought of before. Where do the materials come from? Paint cans are aluminum, right?
Aluminum comes from bauxite which needs to be mined. Then a chemical process is used to extract alumina from it.
So, the mining equipment would need to be designed. A process would need to be created to make the equipment. A factory would need to be built. Let’s not talk about architects anymore. Let’s skip to a city planner who needs to approve those factory plans, and those guys sit comfortably in a city department somewhere.
Another building to construct!
Oh, man! This is making my head hurt all for some paint.
Okay, let’s stop worrying about the goop that goes on the road and start thinking the road marking machine – the big vehicle that moves slowly down the highway painting the lines. Every piece on the engine, every nut and bolt, the tires—all items had to go through the above process. When I stop to think about how much work went into that simple white line, it’s enough to make my head explode.
Here’s a new thought—who came up with the idea of the dashed white line? In other words, who decided that a simple line would separate cars and keep us safe? Someone had to dream that up. Then someone else had to codify the darn thing into a municipality somewhere. Then a driver’s education teacher somewhere had to teach it to a roomful of pimply faced teenagers.
Designing white lines, codifying legislation, and teaching driver’s education took buildings, contractors, and—ahem—city planners. We’re not mentioning the building sketch artists anymore. They’ve already been paid and run off to Tahiti somewhere.
Yet the white lines are all worthless without a roadway full of cars which need to be designed, built and—well, you get the point.
What’s Missing?
We’ve talked about the buildings, the systems, and the processes needed to get there, but think of the people involved.
Let’s go back to that first architect. She’s returned from vacation and I’ve already said I’m sorry for picking on her chosen career. The fact is she didn’t appear out of thin air one day to draw the paint factory.
Assuming she’s thirty-years-old, that’s three decades of eating. A lot of people from a lot of places helped food reach her table.
I bet she likes papaya. That’s from Central America.
She’s probably eaten a date or two. Those come from the Middle East.
We know she likes pizza (because who doesn’t) and pizza comes from New York. Just kidding. It’s deep dish so it comes from Chicago. And yes, I know it’s originally from Italy.
What about the planes, trucks, warehouses, restaurants, and grocery stores that held that food before she got it?
So, thirty-years of support and food got our architect to the point where she’s ready to design a paint factory.
But didn’t come into existence on her own. She had parents who had parents and so on. Just so our architect could draw a building to house the production process for some highway paint to draw a little dashed line to keep cars apart.
Isn’t that crazy?
Nothing Happens Until Something is Sold
How could I forget the sales team? Here I am talking about architects, contractors, and city planners, but I didn’t even mention a salesperson anywhere.
Even if the government seized the land through eminent domain, someone needed to purchase the paint, the road-marking machines, and more. Taking a step further back, someone needed to purchase the construction supplies to build the factories that made the paint or constructed the road-marking machines. Making one more leap back, someone probably had to sell some land so a factory could be built.
And all those salespeople needed a place to grow up, food to eat, schools to attend, and desks to sit at.
Wait! Another thought. Salespeople wear clothes!
So do architects, contractors, and city planners.
Where do all those clothes come from? Argh! It never stops.
You see? I’m right.
Everything in the world is connected to that little white line on the road.
