Come To Atlanta for the 1996 Olympics

 

I got an eight-month temporary job in Atlanta.

Writing maintenance manuals and operating instructions

in a fiber-optic cable factory.  They were converting to a new,

sol-gel process for making glass tubes, instead of buying them.

I would document that process.  Wet end support, cleanroom

and dryer, dehydralization and sintering furnaces, air emission

control system and wastewater treatment.  We were ISO-9000

certified.  I jumped right in.  I meant to be hired permanent

at the end of my temporary contract.  I would make myself

indispensable.  This was a second chance.  A last-ditch attempt.

I did become indispensable.  I was the first job-shopper hired permanent.

I got the full benefit package.  Paid holidays, paid vacation, sick leave.

Health insurance.  A defined-benefit pension, free medical care in retirement.

I was a member of management.  That meant I was unrepresented by a union.

By the Communication Workers of America (CWA).  I was on salary.

I worked uncompensated overtime.  I got a performance bonus every year,

at Christmas.  I got raises and promotions.  I was a sharp tool for the company.

Beware when you’re getting’ all you want.  A fattenin’ hog ain’t in luck.

The business cycle.  Boom and bust.  What goes up must come down.

I was there six years.  Until 2002.  What happened in 2000?

Bush stole the election.  The Supreme Court gave it to him.

An ill wind hove into sight.  Eight years of that pipsqueak.

The company I worked for sold the factory where I worked.

and distributed my pension to me.  $38,000.  The new company

didn’t have a pension plan for management employees.  They paid less.

There was less job security.  In fact, after six months, they laid the whole

writing group off.  It was a cost savings to them.  We got a package.

I got ten weeks of pay and outplacement counseling.  I was destaffed

in the Workforce Management Program (WMP).  I went on early,

reduced-benefit social security.  $1,000 a month, less what

they took out for Medicare.  I had 26 weeks of unemployment

and one 13-week extension.  That plus my ten weeks was 49 weeks.

I gave myself a sabbatical year.  I was 62.  I wouldn’t say I was

retired so much as used-up.  The expendable had been expended.

I had passed my sell-by date.  I moved back to Florida.  I would write books

and fix up Brenda’s old home place.  We bought it from her brothers and sister.

Brenda got laid off and joined me.  She had moved to Atlanta after I did.

We were reunited in Parker now.  I built a chicken coop.  She planted

Seminole pumpkins.  No hard times blues we had a barrel of flour

and a bucket of lard.  We had coffee and bacon.  We had everything

we needed.

 


 

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