Screams From Suburbia
Sunday, August 4, 2024
Saturday, July 20, 2024
Wednesday, June 19, 2024
Three Snarky Poems
People have become corporations.
We must have a brand, a clever name, a logo
a mug, a pen, a polo.
I made a sign for earth day.
All the words were crooked.
“People have become corporations,” it read
But no one understood it.
The Last Frontier
A pretty actress must play the ugly role,
Some baggy clothes and glasses and, naturally, she’s droll.
It’s quite okay for ugly girls to get harassed by men.
Everyone is so impressed when they deign to flirt with them.
Later in the movie the ugly girl will win.
And we all learn that beauty only goes as deep as skin.
But, brace yourself for the surprise, it turns out all
along,
All she needed was some contacts, a smile and a thong.
Too Many Signs
The radical environmentalists talked reciprocity
Post positive they were
On contemplative ecology.
Meanwhile, out on the sidewalk, the temperature is jumping
All is fried with pesticide and the oil wells keep pumping,
Bill Nye still wears his bow tie and he tells us what’s in
store
We shake our heads this way or that, then go off to do our
chores.
They’re building a new gas station down the street, I saw.
They’ll have to move the lot two feet, to comply with the
wetland law.
It’s mid-June, the flowers bloom, but nothing much stops
by,
The Mosquito Squad is cited, for putting up too many signs.
Sunday, November 19, 2023
Friday, October 6, 2023
Careful What You Ask For
Yesterday, I was asked to sign a petition to eliminate the Massachusetts subminimum wage. Since I am a New Hampshire resident, I did not sign, but as similar efforts are sweeping the country, it is just a matter of time before the movement comes here. My reaction? The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
My arguments come from experience. In the 1980’s, I was a
low-skilled high school dropout living alone. Serving was the best opportunity I
could find. It was instant cash and, typically, at least one free meal. I did
not always make good money, but the overall result skewed towards a livable income.
My paycheck? I never opened the envelope.
In the 1990s, I went to college. Pell-grants paid for my
tuition and waiting tables paid for everything else. It was perfect. I had time
to study while still covering my expenses. In addition, it was flexible. During
finals week I worked less, during the summers I worked more.
For ten years after I graduated, no matter what I was doing,
I had a serving job, too. It provided instant income. I did not have to wait two
weeks or, increasingly, a whole month for a paycheck. Speaking of paychecks, I was
still throwing the one from the restaurant away.
Just last year, when my income was not meeting my expenses, I
applied for several server positions. As it turned out I did not need to return,
but it was nice to know I could.
Over the span of thirty years, I worked in many kinds of
restaurants, from greasy spoons to exclusive culinary destinations, from casual
chains to mom and pops. I met people who were serving for all sorts of reasons.
Some were “moonlighting”, some were transients, and some were professionals. Some
were high-school students working their first job, and some were recent
immigrants navigating their way in a new culture. Some were single parents, and
some were bored empty nesters. There was not one demographic that neatly described
the population, but we all had one thing in common: we loved the cash and
ignored our paychecks. Our grumpier bosses told us the only reason we had jobs
was because of the subminimum wage. It seemed like a win-win.
Enter the well-meaning to save the day, and away we go, down
the road to hell.
The first stop? The eccentric
road-side diner. Since the restaurant industry runs on small margins and it
takes years to become profitable, the tipped wage is a major factor making entry
plausible for the independent operator. Eliminating it, I fear, will be a
tremendous barrier for these types of businesses. The big chains, however, will
be just fine.
That brings us to the second stop on the road to hell. Big chains are already responding to systemic
change by exacting more control over the servers’ income. In addition, I am
sure there will be plenty of loopholes and workarounds to take advantage of,
and, ultimately, the server will be worse off. But the simplest way around paying a person a
higher wage? Automation.
Every step of the serving process, except maybe bringing the
food, can be easily automated. For an establishment with the resources, all
that is required is an incentive, like increased labor costs, and there you
have it: an obedient machine that doesn’t need a wage. Server Unit 345 also comes
with added benefits. It will not sneak off for cigarettes, require breaks, wear
inappropriate attire, call in sick, bicker or complain. I know we expect restaurant owners to be
enlightened and employ people for the greater good, but most are practical. They
will ride this trend directly to automation. Server jobs will still exist, but
they will be much harder to find.
Last stop on our road to hell is the dead, downtown pub. Dining out is already becoming the purview of
the wealthy. If labor costs increase, employers will pass those costs onto
customers. The individual server may be getting paid more, but what of all the
working-class would be diners? We’ll be stuck at home eating beans out of a can.
I support efforts to help working people, like unionization
and the living wage. I also think labor, overall, should be valued more in
society. However, instead of focusing on
a system that is not really broken, let’s promote ideas that might result in real
benefits, like the Basic Minimum Income. Now there is an exit ramp I can get on.