This satirical translation of a recent communication seems to be just the right start to the first day of the rest of our careers – meaning the end of our careers as the Goose will not last much longer after tomorrow. If you have the backwards version in your hand, you will find that this one is the perfect guitar accompaniment to the one-string banjo that is the thusly- and so forth- infused communication for the Luppe Lemmings.
Dear Loyal Lupee Lemings,
(Para 1) I have fewer and fewer options to further my career and thankfully the Railway Labor Act affords me a structure from which I can shield myself with bylaws and spend your money to create the illusion of huge issues where lesser men may have been inspired to resolve the matter in a way that is good for everyone. I am putting you on notice that I am going to ignore the contract myself and use economic warfare to harm the Golden Goose (on your behalf) rather than allow myself to be defeated by the mechanism that I agreed to use to solve problems. Hopefully you will not notice that I have encouraged many people to file grievances that I knew could not be won, and allowed the arbitration docket to swell so that I could claim that the company was eroding the contract. Such a situation is typically caused by the company not capitulating to unreasonable and one-sided demands on my part.
(Para 2) Thankfully for ME, I will have a lucrative job at IBT National waiting for me. Since I am the one that reunified all of the parts of Local 284, intimidated anyone who opposed me, and can walk away with full employment as a great organizer while the company crumbles at the feet of the competition. Yes, my Lemmings, succumb to the illusion that economic warfare is warranted. I know that picketing will drive away customers in a critical year. I know that picketing will make pilots look like spoiled children. I know that the screen readers will slam down the phone and assume that every pilot is just like the ones protesting an improved retirement plan. But I don’t care. The parent company does not respect ME, senior leadership does not respect ME, many of my own board members do not respect ME, most of my former volunteers fear ME, and many stewards want to quit ME, but you will know that it was I – Lord Lupee – that killed the Goose by convincing the Ol’ Farmer in Omaha that there is not one reasonable union leader amongst us and a smaller, more manageable Goose is the responsible thing to have. I will squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze until all the gold is gone and leave my lemmings with goose poop and regret as I march East to the populist revolution with my Teamster masters. Never mind that I give no shred of evidence that rights have been eroded or a contract is harmed. You are convinced. You are my LLL.
(Para 3) That’s right, my Lupee-infused Lemmings, this picket – this ultimate public display of warfare against the Goose – is not about the issue that I told you it was about. It is about two and a half years of the one thing the leadership team has had in common the entire time – ME! Santulli had ME! Sokol had ME! Christensen had ME! Olsen had ME! Eyer has ME! Hansel has ME! YOU HAVE ME to thank as the one consistent thing in labor relations, that and my unbelievable ability to snipe and twist and defame and inflame as I am the greatest negotiator and organizer that ever lived! [Thunder clap] AH-HA-HA-HA!
(Para 4, 5, 6, and 7) Ladies and Lemmings, Mr. Conway Twitty:
In conclusion, please keep writing airplanes up. Please accept the fact that none of our volunteers ever get anything done. Please keep telling everyone you see that we are unsafe and our training sucks because me, the 35 guys that abuse the schedule and fatigue all the time, the 150 pissed-off junior guys that we mentally abuse instead of reassure, the 10% that think working steady and hard is a curse instead of a blessing, and the freakin’ idiots that we have convinced to sign union cards and follow us to Hell are takin’ the Goose down and it’s too late to stop. Just remember to sign my name to the email you send your wife telling her we had to cancel the airplane orders and we’re gonna stop taking new customers, cause this will never be interest-based anything…. It’s I-ME-ME, the final chapter.
Deceptively,
Saiboat Captain Lupee
...and the Fat Lady say, "Hoooooooooooooooooonk!"
QSG
