The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

Not on time, though.

Yes, kiddies, we're in the middle of a strike. The first strike in 25 years! In a typical punk ass move, my lovely job sent an unheated school bus to pick us (all four of us) up in the boroughs. Since so many execs live in NJ and CT, why should they worry about us in Brooklyn, the Bronx, Staten Island and Queens? New York City is a one-borough place, Manhattan. Those other four boroughs are just cheap uneducated immigrant hacks who don't deserve to breathe the same air. $30,000 is enough salary for us and every new union member. Fuck us all if we can't pay our rent, right? EVIL, I TELL YOU. No cost-of-living, no tax calculation, no pension addition, no real 401K math, no matching funds. If you ain't rich, here's a violin. Go play the sad song somewhere else.

So, I had to walk 1.5 miles in 23 degree frigidity at 7:20 this morning to wait for 45 minutes for a driver who didn't know what the hell he was doing. You can't spell cheap without "AP"! And of course, we're supposed to be here no matter what. Gotta remind the working masses who makes money and who doesn't. No map, no CB radio, not even a cell phone. But he was a Johnny Goomba guy--at least his hair looked good. Other companies get chartered Academy or True Line Greyhound-type buses with bathrooms and working heat. We got a shitty broken-down yellow school bus that special ed kids would protest. But I'm supposed to be grateful. That's like saying, "Well, I might have gotten shot twice, but at least the gunman didn't punch or stab me." PUUUHHHHHHLEASE!!!

After last week's "test" at MTA's headquarters, I can see--and I do support--the reasons why they decided to strike. Incompetence, miscommunication, profligate spending, and sheer mismanagement adds up to a bloated sense of power. Abuse of power, really. Toussaint? C'est vouloir, le pouloir--where there's a will, there's a way. I told people he wasn't fooling around--you just don't mess with an angry union boss who happens to be from Brooklyn. Both my parents were union: Mom for 1199, Dad from Graphics Local 2.

Could this be the last great union taking a stand? I think so. Everything, oh everything, is corporate these days. Money at the top, slim pickins for every one else. Throw in a few vacation days and some healthcare, and that's the American way. Not the American Dream, but the American Way. Europe is laughing at us.

It's time for me to go back to reading Ray Bradbury and maybe Aldus Huxley. There are bigger things at stake than me having to listen to yuppies bitch while I still have no money. When you're stinking rich and privileged? It's gauche to speak of dollar signs. Me? I have nothing. A loaded gun wouldn't get me $40,000 at this point. My pride has been broken, but not my spirit. Bonne Natale, Toussaint!

Personally, I'm loving every minute of it.