Alumni Christmas party

(Photo by BobbaLew.)

Yesterday (Wednesday, December 15, 2010), the Alumni of Local 282 of the dreaded nationwide Amalgamated Transit Union (“What’s ‘ah-two?’”), held its annual Christmas party.
The so-called “Alumni” are the union retirees of Regional Transit Service in Rochester, NY.
For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service (RTS), a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs.
The Alumni was a reaction to the fact Transit management retirees ran roughshod over union retirees — a continuation of the bad vibes at Transit, management versus union.
Transit had a club for long-time employees, and I was in it. It was called the “15/25-year Club;” I guess at first the “25-year Club.” But they lowered the employment requirement, and renamed it “15/25-year Club.” The employment requirement was lowered even more; I joined at 10 years.
My employ there ended in 1993 with my stroke; and the “Alumni” didn’t exist then. The Alumni is a special club — you have to join. (I guess it’s an ATU functionary.)
It isn’t just a social club.
It has bylaws, officers, and an Executive Board.
In many ways it’s just like our union-local, except it entertains issues of interest to retirees; like Medicare, healthcare, and diabetes and Alzheimer’s.
The party was held at Nick’s Sea Breeze Inn, in Sea Breeze, north of Rochester. “Sea Breeze” because it’s right on Lake Ontario; visible as you drive in.
Nick’s is right across from Sea Breeze Amusement Park, an old trolley-park that still exists. —It even has a wooden roller-coaster.
My wife got it pretty good; Nick’s was nothing special.
Despite photographs of various famous patrons it has served: Luciano Pavarotti, Frank Sinatra, Marilyn Monroe, and Tony Bennett.
But better than the cockroach-infested restaurant where we usually hold our Alumni meetings.
That restaurant is falling apart; there’s a thin patina of dusty goo on everything.
Its rest-rooms are frightening.
“I’m not settin’ foot in that place!” a compatriot shouts. “If I have to go to the bathroom, I’m goin’ out in the street.”
The rest-room is lit by a low-wattage bare bulb, has a broken lock, and the toilet-seat comes off in my hand when I lift it.
(“You touched that toilet-seat? You better wash your hands, boy!”
Sure, in a sink used as a urinal?)
The rest-room wreaks of urine.
I suppose they don’t charge much for the Alumni to hold its meetings in their conference-room — which also has a bar.
Other unions assemble there too, I guess.
I see Teamsters stickers on the walls.
Nick’s, by comparison, is a palace.
We were greeted by the usual noisy bellering. Bus-drivers became that way.
I was required to sign in; vestiges of our union local.
I was then refunded my reservation deposits; $5 each.
We were offered door-prize tickets; $1 each.
PASS; I never buy drawing tickets.
The Sergeant-At-Arms was going around hawking 50-50 raffle tickets.
A hostess tried to get us all to shaddup, so she could announce how things worked.
It was a buffet; tables called.
My wife and I sat with fellow ne’er-do-well Gary Colvin (“COAL-vin”), also a retired bus-driver.
He had his wife with him; also a retired Transit employee, but not union. —But a really nice person; even was when I worked at Transit.
We were also sitting with Hank Moran (“more-ANNE”) and his wife.
Our table seated six.
Perhaps the funniest moment was when retired bus-driver Major Anderson announced the door-prize winner: “I can’t even read the ticket.”
Failing eyesight; the bugaboo of getting old.
He held it away, but someone helped him.
I had my camera along to take a picture (above).
It’s digital, so it stores its image-files on an internal memory-chip.

Photo by BobbaLew.

It still had the photograph (at left) of the GG1 (“Jee-Jee-ONE;” I only say that because a friend was mispronouncing it “Jee-Jee-Eye”) model I recently purchased at a model-train show.
Colvin and I had gone to it. Colvin is a model-train buff.
“I can’t believe you bought that thing,” Colvin kept saying. “Ya said it was the wrong color.”
“Well 35 smackaroos for a model of the greatest railroad-locomotive of all time ain’t bad even if it is the wrong color,” I said.
Plus it looks fantastic.
It actually looks like a real GG1.
I saw another today (Thursday, December 16, 2010) that was obviously shortened to negotiate the tight curvature of model-train track, but it looks too short.
It ain’t right.
The one I got looks right.
“I saw a brunswick-green one down there in N-gauge. You said it was too small.
(By then, Colvin had gone upstairs to the concession-stand.)
“It wasn’t green, Gary,” I said. “It was red.”
Thus began a so-called “spirited discussion” as to the color of this model locomotive.
“Green.”
“Red.”
“Green.”
“Red.”
“It was green, I’m tellin’ ya!”
“What you been smoking, boy? I only saw two and they were both red. I never seen any green the whole afternoon. —If I’d seen one, I’da been interested.
Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyahhhh!”
Recently retired Local 282 president Joe Carey was there, giving out presents he had bought, tiny LED flashlights.
Wrapped they looked like $10 rolls of quarters; but they weren’t that heavy.
They had batteries, but didn’t work unless a plastic safety-disc was removed.
The kid (me) figured this out, and got my flashlight working first.
The others were prompted by Joe and me.
A photograph of Nick Massa, proprietor of Nick’s Sea Breeze Inn, was in the lobby.
A caption had been applied, Nick saying “I’ll make you a dinner you can’t-uh refuse-uh.”
Nick was doing his best Godfather imitation.
Well, I guess it passes as an Italian restaurant.
Bottles of Italian virgin olive-oil are all over; “Continadella,” whatever.
Before we left, Colvin made a comment about working at Transit, probably dredged up in deepest rumination.
“For someone with no education, it was a good job,” he said.
“For someone with an education, yet a despicable ne’er-do-well, it was also a good job,” I added.
All thanks to the union — dread!
We were first to leave, although others began leaving as we left.
Across the street was an RTS bus idling in the Sea Breeze loop next to the amusement park; probably the end of the trolley-line years ago.
I drove the line to Sea Breeze; it was a nice ride.
The clientele could be difficult, although no more than anywhere else.
I did the first bus outta Sea Breeze Saturday mornings shortly after I started. It was a pleasant ride.
Mostly because it was a long; a yo-yo that took hours per trip.
Sea Breeze to downtown and then all the way out to Latta Road in Greece.
Probably about two hours or more per trip.
The amusement-park was closed for Winter.

• “Dread” because all my siblings are flagrantly anti-union.
• “What’s ‘ah-two?’” is something my mother asked seeing my ATU (Amalgamated Transit Union) button.
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993.
• My wife of 43 years is “Linda.”
• “Brunswick-green” is a standard Pennsy locomotive color. (“Pennsy” is the Pennsylvania Railroad, no longer in existence. It merged with New York Central Railroad in 1968 as Penn-Central, and that tanked in about eight years. “Pennsy” was once the largest railroad in the world.) —Most of the GG1s I saw were brunswick-green.
• “N-gauge” is 9 mm (0.354 inches) between the rails. HO-gauge is 16.5 mm (0.650 inches) between the rails; almost double N-gauge. My GG1 model is HO gauge.
• I called bus-trips “yo-yos,” since they operated like yo-yos, back-and-forth (or up-and-down) over the same line.
• “Greece” (“grease”) is a large suburb west of Rochester. “Latta Road” (“LAH-duh;” as in “ladder”) is an east-west two-lane in the northwest corner of Greece.