Hammer Mill Days

What time is it? Okay, now... what day is it? Is that so? Right, then... seems like a good time to open the mail. Oh, yes - we get it. Don't think it's like writing to Santa. Just scrawl "Big Green" on the outside of any envelope, drop it in a box, and it will find its way to us... as if by magic. That's right, I said MAGIC. Right. So, let's see... what do we have in the old mail bag? Ah... here's something... My name is Barrister Zul Rafique an attorney by profession, in my quest to find a reliable trustee to manage the assets/estate of my late client valued at only $3.5,000.00 (Three Million Five Hundred Thousand US Dollars) This is the reason why you are receiving this email from me. I shall be willing to supply you with more detailed information concerning this business project upon hearing back from you. I am left with no other choice, but to carry out a discreet search for a reputable person outside the shores of my country and consequently seek your...

I've never been a union member for more than maybe eighteen months as a part-timer, back when I was a 1/8-time adjunct at S.U.N.Y. Empire State College and belonged to the A.A.U.P. (I paid dues to the Teamsters for about two weeks when I had a stock room job at a Caldor in Albany back in 1982 - the kind of job that lasts two weeks when you're me.) Likewise, my dad spent the vast majority of his working life - perhaps all of it - unaffiliated, unorganized, call it what you will. But though he was no fan of Hoffa, Meany, and the other union bosses of his day, he understood the power of labor organizing and was always supportive of it - not out of loyalty to an organization, of course, but from a deep identification with the experience of working people, as he worked hard pretty much the whole 40 years I knew him. I have to say that my sentiments run along the same lines, though I've never worked as hard as my father did. Still... I understand what it is like, what many of the...