Baboon Pirates

Scribbles and Scrawls from an unrepentant swashbuckling primate.

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Location: Texas, United States

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

The Sharks Are Circling

Just Look For The Union Label...

The SEIU and the AFSCME (no links, Google 'em up) are both actively courting various employees of The Man. We've got the AFSCME folks here tomorrow, camping out in the breakroom for two hours in an attempt to indoctrinate workers into joining hands, singing the union fight song, and marching on Minas Bagby to wrest control of their destiny from The Man and the Nazgül Council.

The SEIU is fresh from its victory in organizing the downtown janitors, who will now probably go from $6 an hour wages to $5.50 an hour wages (Union dues, ya know...) and a fresh, shiny promise for future gains. The SEIU is also being questioned for some highly irregular campaigning on the part of one of the newly elected Nazgül, but it's one of those things that will likely never be proven.

Both are claiming the right to represent The Man's downtrodden serfs, and the stakes are a slice of rougly 13,000 eligible worker's paychecks. I expect the scene to get ugly before it's all over. Moreover, I highly doubt either crew is going to tell the downtrodden serfs that The Man is under no legal obligation to participate in collective bargaining. This IS Texas, after all!

I made a tactical error by speaking my piece regarding blood-sucking snakeoil salesmen union representation at the end of the department's staff meeting today. Not only am I now (in the eyes of 80% of the staff) the office pariah that wants to keep these poor overworked (bwahahaha!) workers from earning what they so rightfully deserve, I'm probably also a capitalist running dog spy for The Man.

How's this for weird? Not 10 minutes after the staff meeting, I get a phone call in my office from... the AFSCME! They wanted to know if I'm gonna be at tomorrow's meeting. I checked around... I'm the only one who got the call. Guess I've already been marked as a troublemaker by their plant inside this department.

Fortunately, we've got a brand new baseball field, football field and basketball arena here in town, so it's unlikely I'll end up buried under either home plate, the 50 yd line, or the free throw line.

All the same, if they pull a reverse Silkwood on me, someone tell my Mom I don't want any of her New-Agey earpudding muzak played at the memorial service.