WEDNESDAY, MAY 11, 2005
Way back in September 1983, I started my first real job, working at Oranim, a big bread factory in Israel that made something like 100,000 loaves of bread every night in six giant ovens the size of aircraft carriers.
The first time I walked into the bakery I couldn't believe what a mess it was. The sides of the ovens were yellowing, machines were rusting, there was grease everywhere.
"Is it always this messy?" I asked.
"What? What are you talking about?" the manager said. "We just finished cleaning. This is the cleanest it's been in weeks."
It took me a couple of months of cleaning the bakery every morning before I realized what they meant. In the bakery, clean meant no ...