This was gonna be next week, but with the potential for winter storms later on this week, I'm posting it today. Storm Response … The Mythology We Hide Behind Storms have mythology. We tell the same stories every time … the hero crew, the iron stomachs, the men who don’t sleep, don’t complain, don’t stop. We turn exhaustion into honor and recklessness into resolve. We frame suffering as proof of commitment. That mythology doesn’t come from the field. It’s built above it. Storm culture loves the image of sacrifice … as long as someone else pays the cost. It glorifies endurance while quietly ignoring judgment. It praises toughness while punishing restraint. It rewards those who stay moving … not those who keep people alive. We call it grit. It’s not. It’s narrative control. The mythology says real linemen push through. Real leaders don’t slow things down. Real crews don’t need rest … they need heart. And anyone who questions the pace just doesn’t want it bad enough. So people learn the role. They hide fatigue. They bury doubt. They keep going long after their decision-making is compromised … because the story says stopping is failure. From the outside, it looks legendary. Social posts. Photos in the rain. Smiles through exhaustion. Leadership reposting bravery as if it were part of the plan. In the field, it’s something else entirely. Adrenaline covering cracks. Luck carrying weight it was never meant to hold. Close calls are reframed as proof that the system works. That mythology collapses the moment something goes wrong. Then we rewrite the story. We say it was unforeseeable. We say the storm was extreme. We say no one could have known. But the field always knows. The margin was gone. The people were spent. The pace was reckless. The mythology didn’t fail. It succeeded. It kept people quiet. It kept trucks rolling. It kept leadership insulated. Storm mythology doesn’t exist to honor workers. It exists to make their sacrifice feel inevitable.

I’ve spent the last year saying a lot of things out loud that this trade usually keeps quiet. Calling out gaps. Calling out theater. Calling out the difference between “we trained them” and “we prepared them.” Now I want to turn the floor over to the people who live in the arena. Not corporate checklists. Not polished slide decks. Not whatever topic happens to look good on a quarterly report. I want to hear from you. What areas of training do we need to be talking about that we’re not? Where are new hands getting shorted? Where are seasoned hands being expected to “just know” without anyone actually teaching it anymore? Is it job briefings that have turned into a box-check? Is it EPZ and approach distances getting watered down? Is it storm work realities versus what the policy says? Is it switching. Grounding. Rubber use. Crane safety. Leadership. Decision-making under pressure. Speaking up when something doesn’t feel right. Or the quiet skills that keep people alive long after the class ends? Be honest. Be specific. Be uncomfortable if you need to be. This page isn’t here to protect egos. It isn’t here to make anyone look good. And it damn sure isn’t here to repeat the same recycled content we’ve all sat through a hundred times. If we’re going to talk about training, let’s talk about what actually matters…What’s failing people in the field…What keeps showing up in close calls, near misses, and funerals. Drop it in the comments. One topic or ten. Technical. Cultural. Leadership. Personal. If it’s real, it belongs in the conversation. Better never rests…and silence has cost this trade enough already. ~Kevin

I'M TRULY GRATEFUL FOR ALL OF YOU !!!

THIS PLACE DIES IN SILENCE — JUST LIKE OUR TRADE Let’s be honest... Communities don’t fail because of trolls or disagreements. They fail because of silence. The same silence that’s killing this trade. The silence after near-misses. The silence when something feels off, but nobody wants to be “that guy.” The silence that protects bad leadership, weak systems, and dangerous habits, because speaking up feels harder than fitting in. That silence doesn’t keep us safe... It just keeps things comfortable—right up until someone gets hurt. This space exists to break that pattern. If you’re here and you’ve been quiet, this is your moment. Not later. Not when it’s perfectly worded. Now. Start a conversation. Introduce yourself. Ask the question you’ve been carrying. Say the thing you don’t hear anyone else saying. Why did you join this space? What are you seeing in the trade that doesn’t sit right with you? What are we pretending not to notice? You don’t need permission. You don’t need a title. You don’t need to agree with anyone here. But you do need a voice. This isn’t content to consume. It’s a room to step into. If all we do is scroll, this becomes the same silence we complain about in the field—and we already know where that leads. So speak up... Engage... Break the quiet... The Arena only exists if people are willing to stand in it. Your move. ~Kevin

First off — thank you. Every single one of you who stepped in here with me just took a leap most people talk about but never make. You showed up. You raised your hand. You said, “Yeah, I’m in. Let’s build something that actually matters.” We're a week into this thing. The First 250 are here; it's been incredible. This place? It’s a work in progress. Still rough around the edges. Still finding its footing. Just like everyone of us did when we first stepped into this trade, but that’s the beauty of it — we’re building it together, in real time, with real conversations and real truth. Several of the modules are filled, and I'm adding more content and programs as we grow. I can't say enough about how grateful I am for all of you. I don’t take it lightly. You could be anywhere else, listening to the same polished corporate noise we’ve all heard for years — but instead, you’re here helping build something raw, honest, and for the boots, not the optics. So settle in. Speak up. Contribute. Call bullshit when you see it. This is your community as much as mine. Welcome to Lineman Bull$hit Skool — where truth lives, we learn from each other, and we rise together. ~Kevin