SEPTA Strike: Day Four

SEPTA strikers, how dare you!
by Ronnie Polaneczky

YO, SEPTA WORKERS.

As a fellow trade-union member, I'm having a big problem with you, solidarity-wise.

Not only is your strike strangling the city - keeping kids from school, people from jobs, patients from doctors' appointments - but it's a thumbed-nose to something for which most folks reading this paper would give their back molars: The promise of a paycheck for the next 60 months.

I'm thinking about the 400 employees at Crozer Chester Medical Center who lost their jobs this year. And the 22 staffers axed last Thursday at Drinker Biddle & Reath. And the Comcast employees who learned on Wednesday that the cable giant plans to pink-slip a number of workers, even though the company is enjoying a fabulously profitable year.

Hell, it's a promise I wish we had right here at the Daily News.

We've lost dozens of staffers in recent years, and the paper's possible demise is a topic of endless speculation.

So let me get this straight: Unemployment is rampant in this region, and your union actually chose to strike rather than continue hammering out the details of your already excellent jobs? Jobs that we, the transit-dependent public, need you to perform so that our own financially teetering lives don't crash and burn?

Where do you people get off?

Your good jobs would only get better with SEPTA's opening offer - a deal that Gov. Rendell rightly described as "sensational." The contract calls for you to pocket a signing bonus of $1,250, just for agreeing to the damn thing. It would give you a 2.5 percent raise next year. And a 3 percent annual increase for three years after that.

The proposal doesn't require you to donate even a nickel more to your health-care plan. Do you have any clue how sweet that is?

It even comes with an offer to increase pension contributions to 11 percent over the next five years. I know, your leadership disputes that figure. But at least you still have a pension to argue about. Not everyone is so lucky.

Yet you looked at all of this and said, "Let's walk out."

So, please, tell me: When you're behind the wheel of the bus, what planet are you driving on?

This is the part of my rant where I think I'm supposed to toss you a bone. To concede that interacting with the city's rough citizenry can be punishing to even the sunniest people in the transit business. That moving millions of people from here to there is so much more grueling than we could ever know.

Sorry, no bone.

Your 3 a.m. walk-off, which left tens of thousands of us stranded without notice, was outrageous. It cemented the worst belief about SEPTA workers - that you hold us, the people who pay your wages through taxes and the fare box, in contempt. Good luck trying to improve that image once the wheels start rolling again.

Sadly, your strike also unfairly strengthens the perception that all unions are as entitled and grabby as you are. Your president, Willie Brown, actually said, "We agreed not to strike during the World Series. We took people to the game because we are professionals. Now it's time to reward us."

Reward you? For doing the jobs that we pay among the highest fares in the country for you to do?

Can we wipe your noses for you while we're at it?

You also have a bizarre notion that you're in some sort of profit-sharing relationship with SEPTA. Brown has pointed out that, while the economy is doing badly, SEPTA is not. Ridership is up, and the agency has gotten money from state and stimulus funds. So, your warped thinking goes, you're entitled to a fatter slice of the pie.

News flash: It's not your pie. It's ours. If SEPTA is flush, it's incumbent on the agency to plow that money back into new equipment, improved routes and - here's a fun idea - customer-service training for workers whose job protection keeps them from caring whether they snarl or smile at us.

Are there some outstanding issues you have with SEPTA management? No doubt. All grown-ups have issues with the boss. Unlike you, though, what we don't have is the ability to hold a city hostage for as long as our tantrum lasts.

So, please, get back to work. And admit that your negotiating hasn't been just about getting more for yourselves.

It's been about getting more - much, much more - than the rest of us.

Twitter

Because of everything else going on in my life, I'm probably taking this a bit more seriously than I need to, and I'm aware I'm taking things to heart that I shouldn't be.

However...

I am completely fucking over the Twitter thing. If you want me to know what's going on in your life, I hope you blog about it (or, you know, text me, call me, email me, write me a good old-fashioned letter). Because as of about five minutes ago, I've deleted all Twitter feeds from my Google Reader.

I find it annoying to read more replies than things of actual content that make sense to me without having to click through and reverse engineer a thread. I find it annoying to have to click through to read the end of the long twitter post. I find it annoying to have to click through to see a pic that someone has posted. It's all too fucking annoying and I'm over it.

ETA: Another example that pisses me off. Recently, a friend apparently Twittered about something. Since the Twitter feed doesn't happen in real time on Google Reader, I read all of the replies to the event before I read about the actual event from the person. Now, in this case, it didn't much matter. But if it was about an important event, I'd want to hear about it from the original source first.

Also, I just realised that I'm going to have to add back Mikey's Twitter feed or my mom will kill me.

In which I throw myself a pity party

(Teal deer alert!)

Yeah, that's right. A pity party for one. Well, actually, you can join in if you'd like. Just bring something to knit or spin. Or eat. Preferably something cheesy (for eating, not for knitting or spinning).

Today at work didn't start out great. (Actually, those of you who are on the Chase forum on Rav can skip this part as I'm too lazy to type it all out again.)

(Note: Names were coded to protect the absent, the innocent, and teh studip)…

Me: Who is going to do blah blah for Co-worker #1?
CW2: I will
CW3: Wha..?
Me: Okay.

I then hand CW2 the stuff for CW1 and CW2.
I hand CW3 the stuff for CW3.

An hour later…
CW3: What units does CW1 have?
CW2: Here’s the chart, but why?
CW3: Well, I was going to do her MDRO stuf.
Me: …
CW2: Oh. I’ve been doing it. It’s taken care of.
CW3: Oh, so you got this (confidential information) patient?
CW2: Where was that?
CW3: Here. See? EDAD.
CW2: Uh - that’s not (confidential information); that’s “Emergency Admit.” That’s your unit.
Me: …
CW3: Oh, uh-huh, yeah. Okay.

About a month ago, my boss and I made the decision to password protect some of the data and graphs that I am responsible for compiling, analysing, and interpreting every month. I campaigned for this because CW3 consistently goes into said graphs and changes things around. This stuff goes out to bigwigs over MY name. So I get very testy about people changing things around, especially when said things are reported to the CDC and PA DOH.

Well, about an hour after the above exchange, I discovered that CW3 decided to play around in some OTHER graphs that I put together every month. So now I'm going to have to spend time locking 18 more graphs because some people suck at life.

For exactly TWO WEEKS now, I've been asking for something we'll call DDs. Each unit is supposed to turn their DDs into my department every month. DDs are something that are counted each day. So if the units are doing this properly, they should be able to turn in their sheet of DDs on the first of the month. Until last month, the DDs went to our administrative assistant, who has since been laid off. So now the DDs have become my responsibility.

About a week ago, I started getting antsy about the DDs. I had about half of them, with no sign of the others. I NEED the DDs because they go into a document that I am responsible for turning in on the first Monday after the first two full weeks of the month (in other words, for June it was due TODAY). By the time I left the office on Friday, we were waiting for DDs from two more units - one was promised by 8:00 a.m. today (the person who had then was on vacation, but had been contacted and SWORE she'd get them to us as soon as she walked in the building today - she did). The other one (we'll call him K) said he had the DDs in his hand and would fax them right away.

Today rolled around. By noon, still no sign of DDs from K. To make a long story short, at 3:15 p.m., he finally said that "[his] clerk lost them." So now the data for his unit, all of the units like his, and the hospital will be fucked for this month, this quarter, and this fiscal year.

Then I go to the chiropracter for a follow-up visit from last week. This is a chiropracter I used to see a long time ago, but stopped when I started back to school and my health insurance there didn't cover him. However, last week, my hips started acting up again, so I went to see him. Basically, my sacroiliac joint is angry. This is the joint that moves when women give birth. It's at the back of the pelvic bowl and there's just to the side of the spine on each side. So I'm in pain whether I'm lying down, sitting up, or walking.

The chiro asked me how I was doing, and I told him that I hurt. A lot. He put heat on my back, then tried to adjust me. He adjusted one hip, then he asked me to roll over so he could do the other one. As has happened several times in the past week, I couldn't do it. I got to my back and was in too much pain to keep going. So he rolled me over and stretched my hip rather than adjusting it. In the end, he decided to ice me down for awhile. Then he scheduled me to come back tomorrow for some massage therapy before seeing him again. He told me to make sure I used plenty of ice tonight.

So on the way home, I picked up some water ice. That's what he meant, right??? (For you non-locals, water ice is sort of like a sno-cone, but much smoother in texture and a more intense flavour.)

(Side note: For those of you worried he's making me come back just to get my money - this is a doc who refuses to take your entire co-pay if your co-pay is over $15. And who rolls the massage therapy visit and chiro visit into one bill so you only pay one co-pay even if you see both of them.)

In which I try to decide whether to throw in the towel

Some of you have heard me talk about my Epidemiology of HIV/AIDS professor. I hate him. He's an asshat.

He didn't make a good first impression on me when during the first session when he referenced his "contract with Temple" no less than three times (he's an adjunct). He didn't change the impression on the third meeting when he showed us a movie for the entire two hours. Folks, this is a grad-level course. After the movie, he told us that we didn't get to the point that he really wanted us to see (it's called a DVD, moron, and you can start or ffwd to that section). Then he went around the room and asked half of us what we thought about the movie. Not, mind you, "Does anyone have any thoughts about the movie?" or "Does anyone have anything they'd like to discuss about the movie?"

Today was the fifth meeting of the course. Before today, he has blamed the high prevalence of HIV/AIDS in Haiti on bisexuals. Then last week, he asked us to discuss the following case study: Tony is a homosexual male who has had three sex partners in the past six months, two of whom he did not know well. Pam has been married to John for ten years. John is the only person Pam has had sex with. They use oral contraceptives for family planning. Who is at greatest risk for contracting HIV and why?

Some people said Tony because he had multiple sex partners. Some said Pam because we don't know if John is stepping out on her. I asked if we can say that they're at equal risk because they're both sexually active and we don't know who's using condoms. He said no. Then since we were all arguing about it, he decided to make it an assignment. No more than one page, double-spaced.

After talking to several people about it, I decided to phrase my answer thusly: In terms of population statistics, a homosexual male with multiple sex partners has a greater risk of contracting HIV than a heterosexual female with one sex partner does. However, when assessing the individual risk of Tony and Pam, I would need information on whether Tony is having oral or anal sex, whether John is monogamous, whether any of them are using condoms, whether any of them are using drugs, etc., to make an accurate, informed decision.

Today, he started class by asking us how we answered the paper. He told those of us who chose Pam that we were wrong. He told those of us who answered both or neither, that we were wrong. He took his laser pointer and circled "homosexual," "three sex partners," and "didn't know well." Then he told us that since Pam was using oral contraceptives that she and John are "responsible." WTF???

He then spent the next 20 or so minutes explaining to us that homosexuality is a risk factor for HIV. One woman in class and I vehemently argued against him. Our argument is that sexual orientation (or "sexual preference," as he refers to it -- ASSHAT) is not a risk factor. The BEHAVIOUR is a risk factor. A gay man could have protected sex and a straight woman could have unprotected sex. It's the use (or not) or safer sex precautions that makes on at risk, not eh mere orientation. He told we were wrong.

I hate him.

Nancy had talked me out of dropping the course last week, but I'm 95% sure now that I will drop it.

And I had SUCH high hopes for this course.