Thursday, August 18, 2011
Sandbagging, Revered American Tradition
Remembering my Dad's union, ITU, mostly linotypers,
Newspaper management dispatches a fresh Yale grad
to what they know will be a wild, raucous meeting,
& membership responds with shouts & screams, plus
an accomplished double-talker who commences
his questions clearly enough, but then mish-
mashes hilariously & at agonizing length.
“What? Excuse me?” sputters callow interpreter of
Plutocracy, furiously digging into his attache case.
Oh well, he’ll get chances to learn, including
this occasion, but, I suspect, remain a fool,
a prosperous one due to class, of course.
Labels: management, sandbaagging, Union
