Taking the Job Up Another Level.
As I think back on those long hard working years,
Now that I'm well and truly and deservedly retired,
I'm left knowing I'd go off with no shedding of tears,
To turn my back on the Boss is all I've ever desired.
In my varied career(s) I hope I always gave my best,
Tho' in my young carefree days, with no kids to support
I'd boldly front up to my Boss and all Bolshie-like suggest
He was useless; so, yes, I had a contract or two cut short.
But once I became a family man, with mouths to feed
I felt the need to keep my big garrulous trap clamped shut,
For a long teeth-grinding jaw-clenching time I did succeed
In not telling the big Boss he was speaking out of his butt.
After 10 years in one port of call with no rocking of the boat
Our happy crew learnt what 'Under New Ownership' meant,
Our new Captain's welcoming speech ended in a sour note,
Cap'n Bligh said 'change was nigh' and he'd brook no dissent.
Could I have kept my head,
One of the silent crowd?
Should I not have said
What I said way out loud?
Prospects of any kind
Well and truly gone,
So I felt resigned
To move myself on.
An understanding brother work mate
Told me he wholly sympathised,
Told me of a job, but cut-rate,
Temporary, transitory, non-unionised.
Oh, 'twas hard keeping mum* about the pittance I'd receive;
That fat cat's assets grew while mine drew leaner and meaner,
For months I held my tongue, planning to diplomatically leave,
Move on to fields where pastures looked (deceptively) greener.
But invariably my frustrations at staying silent grew,
And there came a time and a place I had to speak out,
We contracted workers only wished to be paid our due,
When someone asked the union in, they met a full turnout.
A committee was formed, who went to the Boss informing
Him the committee of three would be his workers mouthpiece,
The Company convened behind closed doors, brains storming,
Begrudgingly came the decision of us landing a pay increase!
Brothers, victory and unionisation was ours; or so it did seem,
Then the Company called a meeting and told us their sorry news,
There'd been a takeover, and the Boss and his hardworking team
Had cuts to make, someone in our lot(tery) had to randomly lose.
To a select three he handed three envelopes, (fate) pre-sealed,
'Twas a further salutary lesson to me, if yet another was required,
If you wish to raise talks to your Boss about a level playing field
You're apt to find your yap cut short and your ass quickly fired.
*'keeping mum' in British English = in American terms 'zip it.'
‘Oh well, given the times I went ballistic this was always gonna be my career trajectory.’
'No-ones complaining,
We're all just saying
God made you mean.'
Jace Everett 'God Made You Mean.'
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