I could tell stories!
Yesterday (Wednesday, January 18, 2012) the dreaded 282 Alumni held one of its regular quarterly meetings.
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 — “Transit”), a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs.
While a bus-driver there I belonged to the Rochester Division of the Amalgamated Transit Union (ATU), Local 282. (ATU is nationwide.)
The Alumni was a reaction to the fact Transit upper-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 (disability retirement); and the “Alumni” didn’t exist then.
The Alumni is a special club — you have to join.
It’s an Amalgamated Transit Union 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.
“Dreaded” because all my siblings are flagrantly anti-union, like the proper way for hourlies to parry the massive management juggernaut is one employee at a time; in which case that single employee gets trampled because he’s not presenting a united front with power equal to management.
Like the proletariate’s attempt to exact a living wage from bloated management fat-cats is what’s wrong with this country.
My younger brother from northern Delaware, perhaps a fat-cat, but only because of his high salary, recently declared the “occupy Wall-Street” crowd a bunch of freeloaders.
Little did he know my wife would blast him from his high-horse with all the evils and stupidity of corporate America.
“Don’t you get Rush Limbaugh up here?” he asked me.
“What, pray tell, would I wanna listen to that blowhard for?” I commented.
Not many were in attendance at this meeting, perhaps 10-15.
We usually rate about 30.
Joe Carey (“kar-eee;” as in “arrow”), the recently retired president of Local 282, and de facto leader of the Alumni, apologized.
Apparently people had asked him if there was a meeting, and he told them he wasn’t sure.
Which explains the low turnout.
There also was no speaker.
Previous meetings had a speaker; our Vision-Care, our Dental-plan (both with reduced negotiated rates), or BJ’s Wholesale Club. (What am I gonna do with 100 pounds of bulk rice?)
Last time we had a podiatrist. His best comment was high-heels were keeping him in business.
We also had a diabetes specialist once. Most of our Transit retirees are diabetic, yet I’m not.
It’s no wonder, with all the sugar they dump into their coffee. —I drink it black, and decaf only.
So it was more a social meeting.
People were complaining about the Alumni newsletter, that it looks so bad compared to my old union newsletter, also an unpaid volunteer effort.
The Alumni newsletter is generated by an aging computer-savvy retired bus-driver.
Like all of us, he’s getting older. A newsletter is an incredible time-gobbler; I know from experience doing my union newsletter.
That retiree is falling apart, and I’m sure he wants someone else to do it.
He asked me once if I could help, but I told him I was up-against-the-wall already.
I’ve told him since I could edit stuff, check spelling, grammar, syntax, etc.
I haven’t heard from him since.
He also related his greatest difficulty was getting promised copy on time — a problem I knew all too well. The whole idea of a union newsletter was articles from union officialdom, which I never received during the entire year I did it.
People suggested I could make the newsletter look better, but all I can suggest is -a) two columns per page (instead of one), and -b) don’t distort the pictures by stretching them.
Which isn’t paginating the entire newsletter, which I don’t want to do.
“It doesn’t look that bad,” I said.
Around-and-around we we went, over pancakes for me, and gigundo omelets for some of the others.
A management person was there, Gary Coleman (“Coal-min”), husband of a recent bus-driver retiree.
Apparently Gary had been told to not show at Alumni meetings.
Well, why not?
Gary was lower-level management and once a bus-driver.
He’s one of us.
He knows the insanity we all faced; he’s not one of the high-and-mighty that refused to ride with the riffraff. (That was their term for our passengers.)
His wife Mary is a recently-retired bus-driver.
She was glad to get out!
Things seem to have got worse since we were there, although I was gone before most of the others.
We seemed to get madness from all quarters; passengers, upper management, etc.
I could tell stories!
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I pretty much recovered. It ended my career driving bus.
• RE: “De facto leader of the Alumni.....” —Joe Carey is not the president of the Alumni, but more-or-less leads our meetings.
• I once did a newsletter for our union; it lasted a year, and ended with my stroke.
• “Pagination” is the complete generation of a page; layout of story-text, ads, and pictures (“art”).
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 — “Transit”), a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs.
While a bus-driver there I belonged to the Rochester Division of the Amalgamated Transit Union (ATU), Local 282. (ATU is nationwide.)
The Alumni was a reaction to the fact Transit upper-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 (disability retirement); and the “Alumni” didn’t exist then.
The Alumni is a special club — you have to join.
It’s an Amalgamated Transit Union 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.
“Dreaded” because all my siblings are flagrantly anti-union, like the proper way for hourlies to parry the massive management juggernaut is one employee at a time; in which case that single employee gets trampled because he’s not presenting a united front with power equal to management.
Like the proletariate’s attempt to exact a living wage from bloated management fat-cats is what’s wrong with this country.
My younger brother from northern Delaware, perhaps a fat-cat, but only because of his high salary, recently declared the “occupy Wall-Street” crowd a bunch of freeloaders.
Little did he know my wife would blast him from his high-horse with all the evils and stupidity of corporate America.
“Don’t you get Rush Limbaugh up here?” he asked me.
“What, pray tell, would I wanna listen to that blowhard for?” I commented.
Not many were in attendance at this meeting, perhaps 10-15.
We usually rate about 30.
Joe Carey (“kar-eee;” as in “arrow”), the recently retired president of Local 282, and de facto leader of the Alumni, apologized.
Apparently people had asked him if there was a meeting, and he told them he wasn’t sure.
Which explains the low turnout.
There also was no speaker.
Previous meetings had a speaker; our Vision-Care, our Dental-plan (both with reduced negotiated rates), or BJ’s Wholesale Club. (What am I gonna do with 100 pounds of bulk rice?)
Last time we had a podiatrist. His best comment was high-heels were keeping him in business.
We also had a diabetes specialist once. Most of our Transit retirees are diabetic, yet I’m not.
It’s no wonder, with all the sugar they dump into their coffee. —I drink it black, and decaf only.
So it was more a social meeting.
People were complaining about the Alumni newsletter, that it looks so bad compared to my old union newsletter, also an unpaid volunteer effort.
The Alumni newsletter is generated by an aging computer-savvy retired bus-driver.
Like all of us, he’s getting older. A newsletter is an incredible time-gobbler; I know from experience doing my union newsletter.
That retiree is falling apart, and I’m sure he wants someone else to do it.
He asked me once if I could help, but I told him I was up-against-the-wall already.
I’ve told him since I could edit stuff, check spelling, grammar, syntax, etc.
I haven’t heard from him since.
He also related his greatest difficulty was getting promised copy on time — a problem I knew all too well. The whole idea of a union newsletter was articles from union officialdom, which I never received during the entire year I did it.
People suggested I could make the newsletter look better, but all I can suggest is -a) two columns per page (instead of one), and -b) don’t distort the pictures by stretching them.
Which isn’t paginating the entire newsletter, which I don’t want to do.
“It doesn’t look that bad,” I said.
Around-and-around we we went, over pancakes for me, and gigundo omelets for some of the others.
A management person was there, Gary Coleman (“Coal-min”), husband of a recent bus-driver retiree.
Apparently Gary had been told to not show at Alumni meetings.
Well, why not?
Gary was lower-level management and once a bus-driver.
He’s one of us.
He knows the insanity we all faced; he’s not one of the high-and-mighty that refused to ride with the riffraff. (That was their term for our passengers.)
His wife Mary is a recently-retired bus-driver.
She was glad to get out!
Things seem to have got worse since we were there, although I was gone before most of the others.
We seemed to get madness from all quarters; passengers, upper management, etc.
I could tell stories!
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I pretty much recovered. It ended my career driving bus.
• RE: “De facto leader of the Alumni.....” —Joe Carey is not the president of the Alumni, but more-or-less leads our meetings.
• I once did a newsletter for our union; it lasted a year, and ended with my stroke.
• “Pagination” is the complete generation of a page; layout of story-text, ads, and pictures (“art”).
Labels: 282 Alumni
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