Tales of the TeMo

You may be wondering, how did this rivalry between Brian and the TeMo evolve? Well it's a long and painful story, my friend. Pull up a chair and I'll tell you.

It all started many years ago, when the TeMo was first emerging into the world. It was a ferocious beast, hastily engineered and programmed to compete with the multichannel dominance of the Biomek FX. Tecan, being a Swiss company, normally builds finely crafted, exquisitely engineered robots. The TeMo was a little rough around the edges. Or should I say razor sharp? Be that as it may, I was among the first U.S. service engineers dispatched to Switzerland to train on them. Possibly even the very first.

The TeMo made its move early. While lifting the monstrously heavy beast out of its shipping crate, one of the four lifters slipped, and the TeMo teetered towards the hapless soul threatening to crush him under its mighty mass. Fortunately, the other three of us were able to restrain its ferocious assault until the man was able to regain his footing.

Later that day, as we disassembled the TeMo, one of my kind Swiss hosts calmly pointed out to me: "You're bleeding." And lo, it was so. Not just any cut. A deep, razor sharp gash across the entire palm of my hand. The TeMo innards were so sharp, it had sliced me open like a scalpel and I hadn't even felt it. Blood was streaming from the wound. Being a tough American, and not wanting to appear weak in front of the Swiss, I merely wrapped the cut in a paper towel and squeezed my palm until the blood stopped. Which took the rest of the day. The TeMo literally drew first blood in our epic years-long struggle.

A few months later, back in the U.S., I was called upon to install the first TeMo to be sold in the Midwest region. Up near Madison, WI. Although it did not manage to physically injure me, I struggled to make it work. It taunted me. The software then was a little primitive, and it didn't help that I didn't have the specialized tools required for the job. Eventually I got it working, but it required Herculean effort and every ounce of brain power and patience I could muster. And then a little bit more.

All was quiet between me and the TeMo for many years. I moved on, as did it. Its software improved, razor-sharp edges were dulled for safety, vast strides were made. Until that fateful day when I met the TeMo again. Not all of its claws had been removed, and it remembered me. Remembered the taste of blood. It still had powerful motors, blazing speed, and no regard for human life. It attacked me, and I was too slow to avoid its headlong rush. Too many years dealing with calm, docile robots had dulled my reflexes.

I am humble enough to admit I've never fully mastered the TeMo. I'm a little afraid of it. The electronics bewilder me, the command set eludes me, its speed and power intimidate me. I don't intuitively grasp how to teach it where it needs to go. I can muddle through, but it's not easy for me.

I can only hope, being a mostly peaceful man, that the TeMo and I can find a happy middle ground. Wary of each other, certainly. But no longer lusting for blood and/or seized bearings and cooked motors. I'll be keeping my eye on you, TeMo.