Hardcore ... that's one of those words that are easy to throw into a sentence, to use as a descriptive adjective making something that might otherwise be so Blasé Bob as to bore one to tears sound a little more exciting. It's also, more often than not, used improperly. When it gets batted around as people will do, I sometimes go into analytical mode.

So there I sat at my desk with feet up on a stack of papers, cogitating, yesterday. I had my pocket protector loaded with standard issue Pentel P205 semi-automatic pencil, three Berol lead holders (one each with HB, 2H, and 4H leads), a couple of red pencils, a blue pencil, ultra-fine point Sharpie, ink pen, vinyl eraser pencil, and a pack of spare Pentel leads. Behind the pocket protector was a pack of cigarettes and lighter, these to make that baby pooch out just right. Not quite ... maybe a couple of napkins. But I didn't have any of those cheap jobs from The Old Smokehouse barbecue back in Charlotte, a lot of spiffy systems were designs on those, so a paper towel had to do ... and it did, pooched out just right.

Women have no appreciation for a pocket protector. There's no telling how many times I've been told "If we're going out in public that 'thing' is going to disappear."

At hand was my trusty old TI-55II scientific calculator with a cheap Japanese job close by just in case there was a need to do any number system conversions (decimal to binary, hex, octal, or the like), Picket 1010 slip-stick for old time's sake, a set of triangles, a pile of quad-rule graph paper tablets, drawing templates and a set of French curves. I've invented a lot of french words because of those French curves. Hanging from a hook on the bookshelves over the desk was my electric eraser, the one I was finally able to afford when I hit the big time and had at least two quarters to rub together, but it isn't much good for drawing any more. We use computerized CAD systems these days. But it looks cool ... and it's really handy for polishing the scratches out of a watch crystal or glass meter face.

Just like back in the old days, I was ready to do some serious work.

Several days ago there was a letter submitted to the editors of the TFP that tried to absolutely give all those "union bosses" down the road. To be sure, some unions don't do their members justice. On the other hand, there sometimes is a need for a group of employees to be able to bargain with their employer as a group.

I'm not a union person. I've always been able to negotiate my own deal, back when I had a real job. Some of us aren't so fortunate.

I'll never forget walking into the fancy schmancy headquarters building of a textile company in South Carolina years ago. Marble floors, tapestries on the walls, copper and bronze sculptures all over the place ... the joint oozed money. I later had occasion to go out to one of their production plants in the middle of BuFu, Georgia to see people working for not much over minimum wage and in non air conditioned production facilities. Those people needed some sort of collective bargaining mechanism.

So, too, do people working in occupations peculiar to businesses that require huge amounts of capital investment need some bargaining scheme. A nuclear power technologist can't go down to the We Nuke 'Em power company to find a job. A jet jockey can't pack up and swap over to Joe's FlyBoy Hangout and hope to keep flying Boing-Boing 700 series flying cattlecars. Neither can a microbiologist specializing in genetic manipulation hop on over to Schmuckatelli's Gene Joint if he or she is having to work in unsafe environmental conditions.

To be sure, we all need to earn a livable wage. I don't know anyone who's willing to pay 20 GringoBucks for a McBurger, though, so the employees can be paid what they feel their labor is worth. Each job has a value based upon productivity and what the company can charge for their finished product or service. Want to earn more money? We need to be willing to invest in our own futures and salable skillsets so our labor is more valuable, so we can therefore command a higher rate for the same number of man-hours worked.

Look at lawyers. Uh, poor example. Let's look at the difference between a production line assembly technician and the engineer who designs those products. The engineer has a more valuable skillset based upon education in specific fields of knowledge, more experience, and he's more difficult to replace because of this. Who's going to be paid more?

It's unfortunate that some unions, emphasis on some, have become rather cultish, demanding, and unbending in their behavior; if not over all, at least in some of their local operations. I've watched several companies close facilities because the unions weren't willing to bend to the requirements of market economies and continued to demand more and more. I had friends who worked for General Tire when they closed their largest production facility because the work force refused to take a 10% pay cut, when the average wage in the plant was 36 bucks an hour. My once favorite customer closed all of their transformer manufacturing plants in this country and moved production across the big water for similar reasons, and about 25,000 people lost jobs because of it. I miss being paid to generate lightening bolts ... on purpose.

Is it fair to paint all unions and their members with such broad strokes as some will do? As my late father would have said, not hardly. And this by a purported leader of a political party? Not hardly here either. It certainly doesn't strike me as a very good way to attract new supporters. It also strikes me as a sure fire manner with which to alienate a large portion of our local population.

But wouldn't it also be a fair statement to make that in some respects our political parties have become, in their own rite, rather cultish, demanding, and unbending in their behavior? But they call that "hardcore politics."

It's truly unfortunate when an organization becomes what it was founded to fight. It's also unfortunate to see, as my favorite tree hugger recently observed, the major political parties courting independent voters ... but they just can't seem to support an independent candidate for elected office.

Speaking of engineers, do you know how to tell when an engineer is speaking to you? He's looking at your shoes instead of his own.

I wish I was looking into a bowl of triple chocolate chunk, fudge brownie hunk ice cream with caramel topping and coffee sprinkles right now.

Royce E. Burrage, Jr.
Royce@Officially Chapped.org