I was born in 1950 in Amarillo, Texas. I never had a hard time finding a job until the late '80s. I moved from state to state. The first job I kept for 12 months was one of the hardest I ever had. It was at Iowa Beef Packers in Amarillo. I was pushing 30. I was in the Teamsters Union, my first union job and it was the first time I earned over a thousand dollars a month.
I was a bottom-feeder when it came to jobs. I'd show up in a town, find out where the local Manpower or other daily work agency was and the next morning I'd be there at 6am, among the first 10 or so men waiting for a job of work.
Once in New Haven, Connecticut, I worked a couple of days at the Schick Razor plant. It was huge. Forklifts (ah, how I loved operating forklifts - the first step up from the pallet jack), truck loading docks. .. I remember being surprised that such a huge plant manufactured such a tiny product!
My first awakening to the new United States was when I called a Manpower company to ask what time I should show up in the morning to get a day job. I was asked my phone number. I didn't have a phone number; I was calling from a pay phone. I was told that Manpower required workers to have a phone and an address. The earth had shifted under my feet.
I've never read a sharper, concise analysis of my country's economy than RIP, the middle class: 1946-2013. It's here on Salon.com.
Please check out my album: Texas Socialist Infiltration Dance Songs Instigated and Agitated by Burl Dunn. It's on iTunes and other likely download sites.
Thanks, Burl. You might enjoy my book, "Nothin' but Blue Skies," from which I took a lot of the reporting.
ReplyDelete