Monday Morning Wibblings (Bad-Tempered Edition)
So the story on the bitchy 911 operator is apparently that they are in contract negotiations and are about to strike.
Yeah.
My dad's been in the IBEW (which I think stands for International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers) since he was first hired at FPL 38 years ago, and he's been through riots and strikes and even scabbed a bit in New Mexico when Florida was still on strike. I have studied Labor Unions and their creations and growing pains through my interest in Theodore Roosevelt and American History. I am a huge fan of unions. I believe them to be empowering for the most part, and when they don't work out they are still the lesser of two evils. I don't like that they've become the poster child for corruption and such, but a lazy or immoral person could find a twisted use for anything if they put their mind to it. Never underestimate the resourcefulness and ingenuity of a stupid person.
But if you're going to strike in a job like 911 emergency operator, then you STRIKE, you don't go in and do it half-assed. I understand wanting to get paid what you're worth for doing a job that is that hard and no one else wants to do because of the immense strain, but do it or don't. There are few things worse than being in the midst of an emergency, calling 911 because you need HELP, and getting an embittered asshole on the line.
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Nathan's boss was in a horrible motorcycle accident around Miami. On weekends, she and her husband would bike down to the Keys for some biker meetups, shows and such. But there was some kind of accident Sunday night, on their way back. She's in ICU, and her husband is dead. He called to tell me, but didn't know any other details than that.
I've never met her, and all I know about her is that she obsessively checks over Nathan's work and has over the top Carmela Soprano fingernails. And is into fitness.
I hope she makes a full recovery. And I hope. . . well, I hope she doesn't lose hope. Were I in her position I would probably do so, as my husband was gone and something that reminded me of him and was previously a symbol of happiness and freedom becomes a painful reminder of sudden and brutal change.
Which reminds me, I need to call my aunt and say hi.
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Sorry today's such a downer, but between the assheads gabbling about football on the radio (no offense to football fans, but my god, the radio DJs get EVEN STUPIDER when discussing football), my coworkers having an incredibly loud conversation of the merits of cookies over candy (seriously) and Grandpa Simpson's phone going off already, I'm not in a fabulous mood.
I'm thinking of finding a good Chinese buffet for lunch. I don't know any in the area but that shan't stop me from finding one.
Yeah.
My dad's been in the IBEW (which I think stands for International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers) since he was first hired at FPL 38 years ago, and he's been through riots and strikes and even scabbed a bit in New Mexico when Florida was still on strike. I have studied Labor Unions and their creations and growing pains through my interest in Theodore Roosevelt and American History. I am a huge fan of unions. I believe them to be empowering for the most part, and when they don't work out they are still the lesser of two evils. I don't like that they've become the poster child for corruption and such, but a lazy or immoral person could find a twisted use for anything if they put their mind to it. Never underestimate the resourcefulness and ingenuity of a stupid person.
But if you're going to strike in a job like 911 emergency operator, then you STRIKE, you don't go in and do it half-assed. I understand wanting to get paid what you're worth for doing a job that is that hard and no one else wants to do because of the immense strain, but do it or don't. There are few things worse than being in the midst of an emergency, calling 911 because you need HELP, and getting an embittered asshole on the line.
**************
Nathan's boss was in a horrible motorcycle accident around Miami. On weekends, she and her husband would bike down to the Keys for some biker meetups, shows and such. But there was some kind of accident Sunday night, on their way back. She's in ICU, and her husband is dead. He called to tell me, but didn't know any other details than that.
I've never met her, and all I know about her is that she obsessively checks over Nathan's work and has over the top Carmela Soprano fingernails. And is into fitness.
I hope she makes a full recovery. And I hope. . . well, I hope she doesn't lose hope. Were I in her position I would probably do so, as my husband was gone and something that reminded me of him and was previously a symbol of happiness and freedom becomes a painful reminder of sudden and brutal change.
Which reminds me, I need to call my aunt and say hi.
**************
Sorry today's such a downer, but between the assheads gabbling about football on the radio (no offense to football fans, but my god, the radio DJs get EVEN STUPIDER when discussing football), my coworkers having an incredibly loud conversation of the merits of cookies over candy (seriously) and Grandpa Simpson's phone going off already, I'm not in a fabulous mood.
I'm thinking of finding a good Chinese buffet for lunch. I don't know any in the area but that shan't stop me from finding one.