A View From The Production Floor

As I write this, I am sitting between two whirring machines (literally), gradually processing different parts of our Goodtime necks before they move on to be detailed and fretted. For anyone who knows me, you will know that this is not my normal day. So why am I here?

As COO of Deering Banjo Company, my job largely centers around my desk, spreadsheets, planning forecasts, sales reports, and all the fun things you imagine a COO might do. One of the things I love about Deering is that our production floor, where all the magic really happens, is just on the other side of my office. And while I take every opportunity I can to get out there, a lot of the time, it is not always possible. 

Recently, one of our guys unfortunately suffered an injury at home one evening. When it became apparent that he was going to need more time to recover, and with nobody to fill the spot at that moment in time,  my gut instinct was to say, "How can I help...what can you train me on that I can do?"

Turns out, quite a lot. Before I knew it, I had been trained enough to handle some key parts of the Goodtime necks and minimize disruption to our flow. After all, you are probably waiting for your Goodtime banjo as you read this, and who are we to cause any delay?

Needless to say, it has been fascinating and eye-opening. 

Making musical instruments, particularly banjos, is an intriguing thing, and it's not until you are somewhat immersed in the actual process that you remember what we are doing and why. Production, by its very nature, is full of challenges. It is a complex sum of parts, coming together at just the right time to create something truly special that will be cherished. Supply issues, staffing, machine maintenance, can all slow you down, normally without warning. But being out here is exciting. Parts being moved, conversations being had, problems overcome, training happening... it's a hive of activity that you don't get to appreciate unless you spend some time out here. 

The smell of wood being cut, the constant hum of machines processing, the steam rising from the steam bending box to make rims before they are glued up. The flash of the welding area where we make all our tension hoops and tailpieces. 

But here is where it gets interesting: every single one of these parts is being processed by people, and it's these people that really bring it all to life. 

I have had the pleasure of hiring just about every single person on our floor. Each one of them is a tremendous human being. Each one of them has a story, a passion, and commitments. Some have kids, some are single, some moved from a different state, others are born and bred San Diegans. Some have only been here a couple of months, while others recently celebrated a milestone anniversary. And away from work, everyone is dealing with things, some good, maybe some not so good. 

As much as it has been a necessity, filling in this area has been more of a blessing in disguise. 

And after the dust settles, it is that collective of parts, each one of them touched by human hands, that find themselves carefully assembled, placed inside their box, and shipped to one lucky banjo player to enjoy for years to come. 

And this is what keeps it all going. This is the reason we do what we do.  I will be honest, I kinda like it out here. And while I am sure I will soon be lured back into the office to carry on my normal duties. I shall miss my newfound spot on the production floor. Who knows, maybe they will have me back again one day. 

Special thanks to the crew for taking it easy on a new guy these past two weeks, and even more so to our amazing customers. We appreciate you always.