Extending A Pointed Middle Finger

Her hair lives! One of many uncommon yet endearing
sights in Portland, which helps keep our city
refreshingly "weird." Yeah, Mother Earth...
sigh... she's pissed too.

Deke's Note: Oh boy, this week I felt ridden hard by an angry bull, gored into a barbed-wire fence and left kicking the dust with my good boot. I've heard a lot about management's growing-bolder antics, and it makes me want to spur my mount. Here's my latest ride, a bucking bronco frightened by a coiled rattler... and me without my six-shooter. This keyboard will have to suffice.

Management was prancing around, celebrating its victory over us the other day at my garage. I avoided their shindig like slackers avoid paying fare. What they "gave" us in return is something they stole to begin with: an extra week of "hold back" on our vacation time. Not cool.

As I've discussed here before, it's true we're one of very few transit agencies without cameras pointed directly at our operators. It's not that we're outrageous troublemakers. However, given the past 10 years of managerial failure and outright frontline persecution, we just don't trust "It" to do the right thing with what they record.

Local district attorneys have complained they have no direct evidence with which to charge our assailants, so perhaps that's why many of these cases are pleaded down to a lesser crime or dropped altogether. I get that part. Even though they're attorneys, I'd still trust them more than I do our own management. That's the saddest part of all.

Our GM was just given a fat raise. Not sure why, since he's done nothing of note since he was hired against our union's strenuous objections. He was fired from his job in Canada, eh? We should have taken their lead and said, "No, thanks." He's out of touch because he's just another corporate wonk who would not last a week doing our job. In fact, I'd invite him to switch with me for a month. If he made the grade, he could have his job back. Maybe then he'd have a better understanding of the mammoth task we have as operators, mechanics, supervisors, station agents, etc. However, he would have to honor whatever changes I made in his absence, and he wouldn't like them... not one bit.

One drugged-out freak recently caused a major blockage
of our downtown transit mall, an unfortunate
but common occurrence in Portland.

I believe a transit agency's management should concentrate primarily on improving conditions for its frontline workers. We're the backbone, the lug nuts which keep the wheel from falling off. Management should be the grease, preventing friction among the moving parts. Instead, it pours sand in our oil, grinding down our cylinders. Perhaps that's the goal here: make working conditions so caustic they feel entitled to replace us with automation.

Management is top-heavy, overreaching, rude and ineffective. Managers often contradict what we've been taught, and suspend operators who have just been doing what we should. If we try to educate the public about safety, we're criticized. One operator was even told to "just keep your mouth shut" when he explained to a passenger how to be seen at a stop. This is disgraceful, but common behavior.

Another operator reported that some management wonk rode his bus, busily jotting down notes as she enjoyed his smooth ride. He happened to pass up an intending passenger. The manager pounced on him, demanding to know why he didn't stop. "This is an Express bus," he explained, "and that's not one of my stops." Even so, he was harassed and berated for just doing his job. Had it been my bus this happened on, the inept corporate lackey would have been invited to walk... immediately. As operators, we should be afforded the right not to be harassed on the job. Allowing this behavior is a safety hazard, as it only pisses off the operator. Have you ever ridden in a vehicle where the driver was aggravated? Yeah... their driving suffers because of it. Pretty obvious to the intelligent human, but perhaps not to unchecked egos.

The last thing a bus operator needs is a know-nothing harassing us. We get enough of that from the public management vigorously protects instead of shielding US. I hope the operator files a complaint with HR, alleging disrespectful behavior in our workplace. The bus (or LRV cab) is our office, and we should expect anyone who steps inside to treat us with respect. Evidently, management is above any display of such behavior while riding transit. No wonder the public feels it can do whatever it wants. For shame!

If you visit Portland, you'll often see
what city leaders have failed
to prevent... the utter
trashing of our city.

Decade-hardened veterans, who were once trained in "verbal judo" and whose authority on their vehicles was sacrosanct, are now referred to as "cowboys." While I would be honored to be associated with this type of human since I was raised around many a decent and honorable cowpoke, I take offense to management's weak attempt at demeaning operators who expect courteous and respectful behavior on their buses. A few of the cowboys I know would punch the lights out of anyone who referred to them in the sneering condescension shown our veteran brothers and sisters.

This week, I pulled up to a bus stop which features a small bench at the bottom of the pole. Upon it sat a fairly-regular passenger on our route. I thought she wanted a ride. When we see someone at a bus stop, our natural response is to pull over, open the door and lower the bus. As I did this, Maybelline looked directly at me as she extended her middle finger. Shocked, I tried to understand why she would do this. Drunk, most likely. She's a doozie, this one. I told her I would remember her salute next time she actually wanted a ride, then closed the door and drove away. Perhaps I should have gotten out of my seat, bent down upon my knees and begged her to ride, gently taking her hand in mine and gently guiding her to a seat, bowing in her almighty presence. Maybe then, management would say I did the "right thing." As Colonel Potter would say, "Horse hockey!"

With every antic displayed by management, it feels like Maybelline's finger. So Gov. Brown, it's time for a change. Put me in charge. I'll whip this agency back into shape, run it more efficiently and cost-effectively, while drastically-altering the culture so that frontline workers are finally celebrated. I don't need experience to do the job better than it has been done in over a decade. In fact, experience in management is exactly what has driven us into the mud. It's time to let the people who know the business take over, because the folks in charge now don't have a clue.

I respect my fellow co-workers. I wave at every fellow union member (supes, mechanics, trainers, para-transit and school bus operators), and treat each with admiration because I know how hard their jobs are. Some newbies haven't learned to respect those who have done this much longer than they have, but hopefully time on the job will teach them how much our dedication has cost. Once their back goes into spasms like mine has recently, maybe they'll wise up.

I'll still give Maybelline a ride. It's what I do. Even though she might flip me off again, I'm forgiving of the mentally ill. However, management needs to stop giving us the finger and offer a helping hand. Otherwise, their new camera angle might just catch a middle-finger salute of my own... reflected only in my steely glare.

Yet, for all its failed corporate politicos, Portland remains
a beautiful and often serene place to live.