Rebuke
 

Personally, I've heard enough about the so-called "Twelve angry men!" It was a ****ty movie, and is a rather lame statement, which attempts to dissolve the argument as either fruitless or puerile. "You're angry, emotionally, and therefore your argument has no merit!" Pah-leez! The label is trite, and has run its course.

And I don't want to hear about how you "Heard it on the crew bus!" That's not funny anymore either.

Or this: "If you don't like the way the union is going, run for office!" This ties into the first, and attempts to disarm the validity of the argument. Life doesn't always allow for certain individuals to run for office, or volunteer, or whatever, but that doesn't lessen the validity of the argument. As someone here said, "We are the union." Therefore, we can voice our opinions wherever they may be heard.

Rebuke CompetentFool. Seriously, he's a dork. I'm ashamed we share the same profession.

And yes, it's a profession. Blue collar? I hate to see it that way, Tony. But I get your point: it doesn't matter how we see it, it's how Fred sees it, management. Therefore, it's our job, our responsibility, to ensure we're the highest paid blue collar workers in these United States of America.

And, by God, rebuke these lanyards, which are about as ridiculous as the billboards! So there I was in AOC, wearing my Marine Corps lanyard, looking at the weather and such, and across the table there's a flex instructor, four stripes, wearing a lanyard (of course), and bragging about how he's on a right-seat draft trip. (I had a lot more to say on this, but I don't want the company lurkers to interpret that I don't support those who pick up draft trips, or those who ... ((I had a lot more to say about this also, and while I condone and encourage lively debate, I do not, I repeat: I do not, in any way, shape or form, support illegal job actions.))

What I want, what we all want, is a fair contract in today's dollars.

I want PBS to die a slow, painful death.

I want everyone to read the damn contract this time, and not just the part about a three percent pay raise.

I want a union leadership that recognizes the inherent evil in negotiating for money ... money that we have earned, through time away from home, sleepless nights, ****ty hotels, and years of training and experience, a larger portion of this bloated company pie!

I want to say I fly for FedEx, and that it's the best damn gig in the industry!

I want to go out of my way to ship my documents and goods from the company I work for, rather than from the convenience of UPS.

I want to sit in the cockpit, and do something other than b!tch about these prolonged contract negotiations, the company, management, et al.

I want the flexibility of the job I signed on for, with the company I signed up to work for, and to be recognized for all of the aforementioned sacrifices and years of service.

I want to attack my CMVs with gusto instead of dread, because I love what I do and the company I do it for.

Yes, I want to drink the d@mn cool aid. I do. I want to take the purple-promise ice-bucket challenge, and goad my friends into doing the same. Instead, I tell them all to steer clear and to find another gig. That no, this is the last place on earth you want to be right now; take your talents elsewhere.

I want to tell Melissa that quality of life is great at FedEx, but I'm not going to lie. Quality of life has decreased significantly.

And no, I'm not a pessimist. I'm not an apostle of the twelve angry men. I'm twelve years on property, two of which were spent recalled on active duty, where we gave the Iraqi people their freedoms, you're welcome, and subsequently lost it all in politics. And for a while there I was proud to be here, but along came 4a2b, the Hong Kong Four (or is it Five), PBS, optimizer, degraded hotels, two legs inbound and two legs outbound when our bodies beg for sleep, Un-Just Culture, Union naiveté, Union cronyism, Union deception, Union indifference, and thus a strange sense of isolationism.

It's a job to pay the bills, and I've sold my soul to the devil. Slowly, I'm getting out of hock; my only wish that it would come sooner!