This is a private issue from a private company. For what the UAW parts hangers get; they should be lucky that the devils of Dearborn don't require that they drive Ford and wear pink underware with the blue oval on the rear. It is not a matter of public policy. It is not a matter of fairness. It is the private dealings and policy of a private company.
My employer requires me to wear a 'George Jetson' jacket. It looks goofey and it now has huge holes, grease spots, and it is threadbare. I have to keep it zipped up in hot weather, always. Managers must wear a tie when company comes. I do not need to wear a tie because I am a time clock puncher. I park my car in an assigned lot. I eat in the proper cafeteria. Inserting a stick of gum in my mouth, in the wrong place, can get me put out the door. I am paid to put up with the s**t of management. I make less than half of a UAW employee that is barely able to read the line ticket on the car.
I worked in a glass house and it was required we drink from glass. Plastic, paper, aluminum, or anything, but glass, got us put out the door. I worked in hell and they paid me like I was a god. I would have walked barefoot through hell or the hot end for what I was paid.
If my employer asks me for something that I feel is over the line; I will find a new job. I am like any other whore. The more you f*** me, the more you pay me. The guys in my shop know that I would, and probably have, spit in the devil's eye. I have chewed out my current plant manager with flourishes and panache'. He walked out of the machine shop and his face was whiter than his silk shirt. If he wanted me gone tomorrow; he would walk in and say 'get out'. I would pick up my hat and that fool would find out just what my job entails. I left my last job when the corporate head fired me on a jobsite. I put down my security pass and headed for the gate. I shook his hand and laughed like I was a lottery winner. I was told I was a goner the night before. I could not be fired until I finished the air handler installation, on the roof. Two years later I was offered that same job back. I was beat out of six weeks pay and they offered me double that, and more, to come back. I laughed and had the headhunter pay the food and bar tab. I have free will. I am not a slave. I am a whore. I look in the mirror and tell the truth. I put steel to the throat of my master every day.
End of rant...You may now continue with your regular programming. Hit the start button. Make some chips.
Charlie Biler
www.molineparts.com