Monday, October 31, 2005
Living Wage, Tips & The Man
I have a strong belief that anyone who works hard doing a necessary job deserves a living wage. Yes, I know it sounds like a radical commie notion in this world where entitlements only apply to airlines, churches, agribusiness, oil companies, and defense contractors. However, I have a different take on this issue than utopian socialists. I do not trust any government to ensure that hardworking people are treated fairly and with dignity.
Therefore I propose taking a three pronged approach to the problem.
First as consumers we have to suck it up and stop buying shit made by slave labor and sold by union-busting land-stealing chains, and we have to start buying from local, responsible businesses. You’ll get better service, a better product, and if it’s too expensive, well, maybe you don’t need it. Also, tip. If some one delivers something to your home, tip. So what if she didn’t make the food or box up your order. She is the one dealing with rain, snow, heat, potholes, stairs, dogs, possible robbery, and if someone back at the shop screwed up an order she gets an earful. If you expect the boss to be paying her a living wage, the price increase will be much more than a tip. If there is a jar on the counter, tip. So what if the barista doesn’t actually bring your order to you? He stands behind the counter all day long dealing with idiot customers and getting blamed for the high price of a damn cup of coffee. Just use the money you’d otherwise spend on a muffin and tip the poor bastard. Stop buying everything new. Even if it’s not made in China or Mexico, only a tiny amount of the money goes to the workers. There’s plenty of perfectly good used stuff, and more of the money (especially if sold under the table) goes to the previous owner and/or local retailer. Also, if you keep major items longer, you can have repairs done by local people who will keep the money in your community. Stop using plastic. It puts both the consumer and the producer in a position of servitude. Sure, you know you’re in debt, but it also puts a strain on the store who has to pay to use the POS machine and also has to wait for the credit card company to send the check. Save money. A dollar spent even with a good business will only return a few pennies to the workers, but a dollar invested in a business that treats its people well will return many times over. Give money to charities that actually help people move up in the world, this reduces the supply of desperate people on the bottom and creates more demand.
Second, as an employee, quit your bitchin. If putting in an honest day’s work is not getting you an honest day’s pay and decent conditions, do something about it. If you are a good worker and your boss has any sense, tell him or her. They don’t want to lose you. If this is not possible due to lack of the above variables, or if you are working for a heartless corporation, you still have several remaining options. Obviously form a Union or find something else and quit. If you can’t because you are financially trapped in a dead end job or a tight market in a “right to work” state, then bide your time, educate yourself and change careers, possibly move. Take advantage of the few government protections you do have. Don’t hesitate to turn in a shitty boss for health, labor, safety, tax or environmental violations. Sure, it’s just a slap on the wrist, but it’s still fun. If all of this fails then (and I say this only as an artistic expression not as actual advice) fuck some shit up man! Take your revenge on the bastards, steal, sabotage, pad your time card, punch in your coworkers when they miss work, just don’t get caught, because The Machine can do a lot worse to you than you will have done to him.
And finally, with apologies to Jello Biafra, don’t hate the economy, BECOME the economy. If you don’t like the way business is run, start your own business and do it right. Serve the customers well and treat your employees right. Yes, it’s hard work with long hours. Yes, the Man will try to screw you over at every turn with regulations and taxes. Yes, the large corporations may crush you with their advantages of subsidies, tax breaks, and eminent domain. You have not only to find yourself a niche but be smart, adaptive, and resourceful to keep ahead of them. A woman I know had a boring fund raising job in a dank windowless basement office. She toiled nights and weekends writing, editing, and rewriting her first novel. It was hard work with no guarantee of payment, but she eventually was able to quit the university and take her skills and contacts to build a freelance writing career at home with flexible hours and so many prospective clients that she has to turn them away. And you don't need to be especially artistically or technically gifted. I know a woman who had no formal education or experience beyond high school, when her husband lost his good paying job at a bank. All she had done for decades was run a household, so she started a cleaning business. It isn’t glamorous, but it is honest sustainable work and she can pick her clients.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. The government ain’t gonna help. You can write your representatives and vote for all the good it will do. Nobody thus far has been able to legislate a fair economy any more than they’ve been able to legislate morality or terrorists or hurricanes. I’m not saying it ABSOLUTELY can’t be done. But don’t hold your breath.
Update - 3:34
Oops, I almost forgot, TLMIMHICP: "Redemption Song"
I'm just imagining Joe, Bob and Johnny all sitting around jamming together. That'd be sweet.
Therefore I propose taking a three pronged approach to the problem.
First as consumers we have to suck it up and stop buying shit made by slave labor and sold by union-busting land-stealing chains, and we have to start buying from local, responsible businesses. You’ll get better service, a better product, and if it’s too expensive, well, maybe you don’t need it. Also, tip. If some one delivers something to your home, tip. So what if she didn’t make the food or box up your order. She is the one dealing with rain, snow, heat, potholes, stairs, dogs, possible robbery, and if someone back at the shop screwed up an order she gets an earful. If you expect the boss to be paying her a living wage, the price increase will be much more than a tip. If there is a jar on the counter, tip. So what if the barista doesn’t actually bring your order to you? He stands behind the counter all day long dealing with idiot customers and getting blamed for the high price of a damn cup of coffee. Just use the money you’d otherwise spend on a muffin and tip the poor bastard. Stop buying everything new. Even if it’s not made in China or Mexico, only a tiny amount of the money goes to the workers. There’s plenty of perfectly good used stuff, and more of the money (especially if sold under the table) goes to the previous owner and/or local retailer. Also, if you keep major items longer, you can have repairs done by local people who will keep the money in your community. Stop using plastic. It puts both the consumer and the producer in a position of servitude. Sure, you know you’re in debt, but it also puts a strain on the store who has to pay to use the POS machine and also has to wait for the credit card company to send the check. Save money. A dollar spent even with a good business will only return a few pennies to the workers, but a dollar invested in a business that treats its people well will return many times over. Give money to charities that actually help people move up in the world, this reduces the supply of desperate people on the bottom and creates more demand.
Second, as an employee, quit your bitchin. If putting in an honest day’s work is not getting you an honest day’s pay and decent conditions, do something about it. If you are a good worker and your boss has any sense, tell him or her. They don’t want to lose you. If this is not possible due to lack of the above variables, or if you are working for a heartless corporation, you still have several remaining options. Obviously form a Union or find something else and quit. If you can’t because you are financially trapped in a dead end job or a tight market in a “right to work” state, then bide your time, educate yourself and change careers, possibly move. Take advantage of the few government protections you do have. Don’t hesitate to turn in a shitty boss for health, labor, safety, tax or environmental violations. Sure, it’s just a slap on the wrist, but it’s still fun. If all of this fails then (and I say this only as an artistic expression not as actual advice) fuck some shit up man! Take your revenge on the bastards, steal, sabotage, pad your time card, punch in your coworkers when they miss work, just don’t get caught, because The Machine can do a lot worse to you than you will have done to him.
And finally, with apologies to Jello Biafra, don’t hate the economy, BECOME the economy. If you don’t like the way business is run, start your own business and do it right. Serve the customers well and treat your employees right. Yes, it’s hard work with long hours. Yes, the Man will try to screw you over at every turn with regulations and taxes. Yes, the large corporations may crush you with their advantages of subsidies, tax breaks, and eminent domain. You have not only to find yourself a niche but be smart, adaptive, and resourceful to keep ahead of them. A woman I know had a boring fund raising job in a dank windowless basement office. She toiled nights and weekends writing, editing, and rewriting her first novel. It was hard work with no guarantee of payment, but she eventually was able to quit the university and take her skills and contacts to build a freelance writing career at home with flexible hours and so many prospective clients that she has to turn them away. And you don't need to be especially artistically or technically gifted. I know a woman who had no formal education or experience beyond high school, when her husband lost his good paying job at a bank. All she had done for decades was run a household, so she started a cleaning business. It isn’t glamorous, but it is honest sustainable work and she can pick her clients.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. The government ain’t gonna help. You can write your representatives and vote for all the good it will do. Nobody thus far has been able to legislate a fair economy any more than they’ve been able to legislate morality or terrorists or hurricanes. I’m not saying it ABSOLUTELY can’t be done. But don’t hold your breath.
Update - 3:34
Oops, I almost forgot, TLMIMHICP: "Redemption Song"
I'm just imagining Joe, Bob and Johnny all sitting around jamming together. That'd be sweet.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Apple Store, Bellvue, Washington
I'm posting form the Apple Store in "Downtown" Bellvue, WA. I must have intentionally run over some poor orphan sweatshop workers in a BMW and subsequently died because that's the only explanation I can imagine for finding myself in this yuppie hell. So far I've seen several starbucks in the two block walk from the theater where we're helping with the grand opening. On my way into the building I saw a rent-a-pig chasing off some skaters. Jettas appear to be entry level cars here. While I've experinced the inner death of being in malls like MOA and RPS, nothing compares to this. This place is especially unique to my experince in that I'm used to seeing big hair and bigger people squeezed into lowriders whenever I enter the confines of an enclosed multiple tenant market environment. Here they've been replaced by streaky straight hair and men in hipster glasses who look like Ken dolls, and I suspect would still if pantsed. What makes this experince doubly entertaining in a sick sense is that last night I swept floors picked up trash and refilled paper towel dispensers at the theater. Total janitorial flashback. I'm ready to raise a red and black flag and start smashing shit up. I can't help thinking that the WTO protestors should have focused their destructive energies a couple miles east.
Now I'm off to the Lego store and then maybe to fill some beer bottles with petrol and stuff rags in them.
TLMIMHICP: "Lordy Lordy" - The Distillers. Fuck yea!
As covered by the German band, Mudpilots
Now I'm off to the Lego store and then maybe to fill some beer bottles with petrol and stuff rags in them.
TLMIMHICP: "Lordy Lordy" - The Distillers. Fuck yea!
As covered by the German band, Mudpilots
Friday, October 28, 2005
Friday morning coming down
Every few weeks I get to take a Friday off. This is one of those lucky days, and since I'm not driving over Snoqualmie Pass in a packed Subaru as I had hoped to be, I'm doing a little overdue housekeeping. Actually I'm just sitting in front of the fire throwing cheerios to the boy.
I've added my email. Rather it's the email addy I use for online registrations and porn updates, but I do check it every week or so. I've also added a couple more links.
TLMIMHICP: "Closing Time" by Leonard Cohen. Then just as the women are about to tear their blouses off, the little SOB fades in to the song of the same name by Semisonic. Fucker.
Update: 12:10 PM
Looks like we get to go to the Emerald City after all.
I've added my email. Rather it's the email addy I use for online registrations and porn updates, but I do check it every week or so. I've also added a couple more links.
TLMIMHICP: "Closing Time" by Leonard Cohen. Then just as the women are about to tear their blouses off, the little SOB fades in to the song of the same name by Semisonic. Fucker.
Update: 12:10 PM
Looks like we get to go to the Emerald City after all.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Milking School
Two job sites today, two more this afternoon and a board meeting, and my trip to the Sound tomorrow has been canceled. Yeah my life is so bad. On my way back from meeting #2 I saw a haggard old woman wearing what appeared to be her nicest clothes standing out side a bridal shop crying.
TLMIMHICP: "Toolmaster of Brainerd" - Trip Shakespeare
BTW, the title of this post refers to the song, not my work or the old lady.
TLMIMHICP: "Toolmaster of Brainerd" - Trip Shakespeare
BTW, the title of this post refers to the song, not my work or the old lady.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Ja, how bout dem guys wearin da girls' close. Dat's sumptin else. Ya tink dey got real boobs?
I got a hit on a previous post from someone looking for "transvestite boobs". But that's not the funny part: The ISP is in Blue Earth.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Blue Collar Guy in a White Collar World
Once again I found myself staring out my window. Trying to figure out how to install a roof access door without violating code. A blanket of low clouds, or high fog, hung just over the roof tops. The trees on the corner of Sprague were nearly bare, and I could see the intense flicker of a welder’s arc from the gutted building on Riverside.
I thought about all the shit jobs I’ve had. I’ve held a lot of dirty jobs like dishwashing and tech support, but I’m talking about, literally, jobs that involved regular contact with fecal matter. Starting with growing up on the farm, where we had to clean the barn, chicken coop, and rabbit cages on a regular basis. I also cleaned out the stanchions at a neighbor’s dairy farm. I’ve scrubbed toilets in a college cafeteria, dug ditches to repair broken effluence lines, and cleaned out grain elevators one spring after a flood took out a treatment plant upstream. My worst job ever was probably de-beaking chickens under conditions you’d expect only to see on a Dateline exposé on bird flu in Cambodia. It’s a wonder I haven’t died of hepatitis, E. coli or salmonella. Maybe they all canceled each other out.
Anyway this brings me around to my point: Once again, I have to thank the little bastard of a DJ in the otherwise currently dormant right hemisphere of my brain for his music choice today. This is one of several songs that brought me into the warm smelly embrace of punk rock from the working man’s radio wasteland of classic rock and Nashville pop. Although these days, instead being of my personal anthem, it makes me think of two of my friends:
Good Guys (Don’t Wear White) – Minor Threat
I’m a poor boy born in a rut
Some say my manners ain't the best
Some of my friends they've been in a whole lot of trouble
Some say I’m no better than the rest
But tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white
Everyday I work hard
At night I spend a restless time
But those rich kids and all their lazy money
Can't hold a candle to mine
But tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white
Good guys bad guys which is which?
The white collar worker or digger in the ditch
Man who's to say who's the better man
Of those two I do the best I can
You thought I had a dirty mind
All the messed up chicks all the changing times
White filth and easy living
You can't come close to the love that I’ve given
But tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white
I thought about all the shit jobs I’ve had. I’ve held a lot of dirty jobs like dishwashing and tech support, but I’m talking about, literally, jobs that involved regular contact with fecal matter. Starting with growing up on the farm, where we had to clean the barn, chicken coop, and rabbit cages on a regular basis. I also cleaned out the stanchions at a neighbor’s dairy farm. I’ve scrubbed toilets in a college cafeteria, dug ditches to repair broken effluence lines, and cleaned out grain elevators one spring after a flood took out a treatment plant upstream. My worst job ever was probably de-beaking chickens under conditions you’d expect only to see on a Dateline exposé on bird flu in Cambodia. It’s a wonder I haven’t died of hepatitis, E. coli or salmonella. Maybe they all canceled each other out.
Anyway this brings me around to my point: Once again, I have to thank the little bastard of a DJ in the otherwise currently dormant right hemisphere of my brain for his music choice today. This is one of several songs that brought me into the warm smelly embrace of punk rock from the working man’s radio wasteland of classic rock and Nashville pop. Although these days, instead being of my personal anthem, it makes me think of two of my friends:
Good Guys (Don’t Wear White) – Minor Threat
I’m a poor boy born in a rut
Some say my manners ain't the best
Some of my friends they've been in a whole lot of trouble
Some say I’m no better than the rest
But tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white
Everyday I work hard
At night I spend a restless time
But those rich kids and all their lazy money
Can't hold a candle to mine
But tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white
Good guys bad guys which is which?
The white collar worker or digger in the ditch
Man who's to say who's the better man
Of those two I do the best I can
You thought I had a dirty mind
All the messed up chicks all the changing times
White filth and easy living
You can't come close to the love that I’ve given
But tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white
Friday, October 21, 2005
Get a Job
Here's a link for all you pinko-commmie bastards out there complaining that they can't find a good job because of the bush economy. Just kiss enough ass and raise enough money and you can have a good job too.
TLMIMHICP: "Land Down Under" Men At Work
TLMIMHICP: "Land Down Under" Men At Work
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Sweet Lamb of Liberty
I like this country too. The variety of scenery, climates and people is almost unmatched. It’s possible to make a decent living if you put a little thought and effort into it. And while the government generally pisses me off, I am able to avoid it as long as I don’t travel much, make much money, piss off the wrong people, or expect my vote to count. But I know that all things must come to an end sooner or later. I make no predictions as to when the end of this glorious empire will occur, but the bills are mounting and the people in power seem to be getting stupider. And so I’ve been looking at various alternative places to move to when the dollar collapses, the Federal troops come to quarantine me because a chicken coughed, and Jenna Bush runs for President. Here are some of the places I’ve considered with the pros and cons. Feel free to add your suggestions.
TLMIMHICP: "Cadence to Arms" Dropkick Murphys
(Nerds enjoy)
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Zoning
I'm staring out my office window down on the rain soaked streets.
TLMIMHICP: Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangster - Geto Boys
TLMIMHICP: Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangster - Geto Boys
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Bourgeois Drudgery
I think I said that I wouldn't bitch about work, but I'm a lying sack of shit: I'm working on a proposal for football fields. Five of the damn things. I fucking hate football. Most other sports I can stand. A few I can actually watch with a modicum of interest. But not football. Yet, for the fourth time in my life, I'm dealing with some aspect of the contemptible
TLMIMHICP: “Spirit in the Sky” Norman Greenbaum
TLMIMHICP: “Spirit in the Sky” Norman Greenbaum
Monday, October 17, 2005
New Feature
Inspired by a previous post, I have decided to try to give regular updates on what music the little man in my head is currently playing. Not because I think you care, but because I hate you all and want you to be as miserable as I am so here goes:
TLMIMHICP: Stereolab "Lo Boob Oscillator"
Take that you bastards! Try and get that fucking song out of your skull.
TLMIMHICP: Stereolab "Lo Boob Oscillator"
Take that you bastards! Try and get that fucking song out of your skull.
Free Gubmit Money for Everyone!
Minnesota, Idaho, Montana, and North Dakota among others have been have each been declared to be in a State of Emergency following hurricane Katrina. Damn, It must be by the grace of Jesus that the storm surge didn't do much damage to my house.
This absurdity reminds me of our visit to New Orleans a couple years ago. It was February, about 60 degrees, everyone was wearing jackets and gloves, I was wearing shorts and a guayabera. We took a shortcut down an quiet street to St Charles. A middle aged black man coming the other direction looked us up and down and asked "Y'all from Montana?" My response was "Close, within 50 miles."
On a side note, is it just me or has anyone else noticed the irony that the Bible Belt keeps getting pummeled by these storms? You'd think that they, of all people, would heed the advice of Matthew 7: "25. Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: 26. And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand: 27. And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it."
This absurdity reminds me of our visit to New Orleans a couple years ago. It was February, about 60 degrees, everyone was wearing jackets and gloves, I was wearing shorts and a guayabera. We took a shortcut down an quiet street to St Charles. A middle aged black man coming the other direction looked us up and down and asked "Y'all from Montana?" My response was "Close, within 50 miles."
On a side note, is it just me or has anyone else noticed the irony that the Bible Belt keeps getting pummeled by these storms? You'd think that they, of all people, would heed the advice of Matthew 7: "25. Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: 26. And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand: 27. And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it."
Thursday, October 13, 2005
I'll show you mine if you show me yours
I just ran across a coworker's blog. It was kind of like walking in on him in the bathroom. I thought about telling him about my blog, but, well, you can see where this analogy is going.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Anarcho-Nihilist
I like to consider myself a radical anarchist. And I think I am, in theory at least, but when it comes to any sort of activism I can't even bother to attend a protest let alone fuck some shit up. I've resigned myself to the realization that the only thing that can bring the system down is its own increasing weight. When the shit hits the fan I want to be far enough from the major splatters.
I think this may be the reason I've chosen to live in such an out-of-the-way part of the continent. It sure as hell ain't because of the people here. I do appreciate the fact that I can bike and kayak and ski minutes from my front door, but it comes at the cost of having to put up with a whitebread anti-intellectual and artistically banal culture. I think it would be great to raise our kid somewhere people don't all look, talk and believe the same. I could really see us enjoying an urban lifestyle in the Bay Area, the Northeast or London. However, it is times like now I'm glad I'm not in a major center of the empire. My avoidance of major urban centers is not out of fear of some senseless attack by swarthy people, but out of loathing the systematically tightened grip of the security state.
There's nothing I can do about it except avoid it as much as possible. The machine will continue to consume everything it can grasp in its grubby paws, but the arteries of the beast are slowly clogging. And so I sit back and wait quietly for the inevitable imperial coronary. I may be wrong. For the sake of all of you out there protesting and voting and shit, I hope so. It would be nice if it made a difference. But if and when any of you urban activists feel the noose tightening, and the seams coming apart, don't hesitate to pack up the Volvo and head for the hills. We'll be waiting for you with a case of Kokanee on ice.
Bring Abbot.
I think this may be the reason I've chosen to live in such an out-of-the-way part of the continent. It sure as hell ain't because of the people here. I do appreciate the fact that I can bike and kayak and ski minutes from my front door, but it comes at the cost of having to put up with a whitebread anti-intellectual and artistically banal culture. I think it would be great to raise our kid somewhere people don't all look, talk and believe the same. I could really see us enjoying an urban lifestyle in the Bay Area, the Northeast or London. However, it is times like now I'm glad I'm not in a major center of the empire. My avoidance of major urban centers is not out of fear of some senseless attack by swarthy people, but out of loathing the systematically tightened grip of the security state.
There's nothing I can do about it except avoid it as much as possible. The machine will continue to consume everything it can grasp in its grubby paws, but the arteries of the beast are slowly clogging. And so I sit back and wait quietly for the inevitable imperial coronary. I may be wrong. For the sake of all of you out there protesting and voting and shit, I hope so. It would be nice if it made a difference. But if and when any of you urban activists feel the noose tightening, and the seams coming apart, don't hesitate to pack up the Volvo and head for the hills. We'll be waiting for you with a case of Kokanee on ice.
Bring Abbot.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
I don't need no stinkin iPod
I have to thank the little man in my head for the songs he's been playing lately: Iggy Pop's "Passenger" has been on steady rotation for the last couple days.Before that it was Bad Religion's "Drunk Sincerity."
This makes up for all the Neil Diamond and Chumbawumba he forces me to listen too.
Dammit! Now he's playing The Dead Milkmen's "There's a Little Man in My Head." Now I have to go put The Tall Dwarfs "Nothing's Gonna Happen" on repeat in iTunes to scrub my brain out. Even thinking about that song gets it stuck in my head.
