Wed, October 29, 2003

It's currently Strike Season in Los Angeles. Sheriff's deputies were walking out because of something. The bus drivers were gone (Hello, unclogged right lane!), and for the last two weeks the grocery store workers have been on strike because of health benefits and proposed wage freezes. What? I don't know. I can't be forced to care about the particulars. I blame the Democrats for inflating the cost of health care with their crazy uncapped malpractice settlements. No, not really. I blame politicians in general for the lousy state of health care, with pharmaceutical ads running nonstop, costs exploding, and fatcat HMO lobbyists laughing all the way to the bank. But, as much as Claritin ads infuriate me, I manage to forget about the whole health care situation most of the time because I rarely if ever get sick and when I do it's in a really inexpensive way. I'm sure this will change when I have kids (who, as I understand it, will need all sorts of shots and food and clothing – like tiny undocumented immigrants, they are). But for now, I regard health insurance as a silly superstition. Like condoms.

Anyway, the problem with the grocery strike is that (one way or another) it's making health care my problem again. Ralphs (other stores are involved, but Ralphs is my store, so it's all about Ralphs) has pretty much replaced its staff and trained them to take over, so the actual lack of workers doesn't really affect them. (I don't know what Ralphs is paying its scabs, but I assume it's in line with the amount the union is rejecting.) So, the strategy of the union is to try to divert Ralphs customers, hitting the store's profit margins that way. This has been somewhat effective, what with the pleading picketers making guilt faces at shoppers who try to pull into the parking lot, but I don't know any specific numbers. I stayed away for the first week, intending to do my part in order to coax the parties back to the negotiating table, but after that my enthusiasm waned. As it turned out, I was way too busy last week to get to the grocery store anyway, which is great except that since I didn't stock up the week before, all I have left for dinner is cat food and Werther's Originals.

So, I tried. I stayed away for a good two weeks, because there was no compelling reason why I absolutely had to buy groceries. But at this point, I need milk. And I need Coke. And I fail to see how the burden of responsibility falls upon me to drive out of my way and go to a store I don't know or like (or have a club card for!) just because these folks are having a dispute. When I get mad at my boss, I don't ask them to drive out of their way for me. The only non-union store nearby is Trader Joe's, which I would probably try except for the fact that milk is on my list, and they have that weird organic stuff that probably doesn't even come from actual cows. Also, do they sell Coke? Or do they just have Trader Joe's Sugarfree Caffeine-Free Colored Incense Beverage? I don't know. And I don't aim to find out. So I'm headed to Ralphs tonight and I'm stocking up. Hopefully the picketers won't key my car.

It isn't really me (or even Ralphs) whom they should be upset with. The union fatcats who won't let them work are the problem. Sure, the new contract Ralphs is offering isn't perfect. But whenever I think of unions I think of Hoffa and the teamsters – corrupt bosses looking out for themselves and using the workers as pawns in their game. Maybe it's because I come from a right-to-work state so the whole union thing is sort of alien to me. I mean, if you don't like your job, you get a different job, right? If an employer is mistreating its employees, won't they leave? Won't a Nash Equilibrium be reached, where the conditions under which employees are willing to work equate to a certain amount that employers are willing to pay and then everything's cool? Why does an entire organization, with dues and officers' salaries and other overhead, need to be created to manage that relationship? If I'm fed up, I leave. If my colleagues are fed up too, great. If not, that's their deal. Also, what's the plan? From the look of things, Ralphs is in good shape to ride out the strike. Will the union cave? Will the workers secede from the union and get their jobs back? Will the picketers just become permanent fixtures in front of the stores, like the coin-operated rocking pony and (inexplicably, also rocking) racecar? Will the shoppers that are staying away ever forgive Ralphs?

I don't know what any of this actually means. (I do like the fact that lately the local paper is blaming Wal-Mart. Now, that's a charge I can get behind!) I just know that I want my groceries and, in capitalism, that means I find someone with the groceries I want and we settle on a fair price for them. If that corporation can't afford to pay for the dental checkups of the kids of each of its unnaturally proliferous workers, I'm not going to pass judgment. Maybe if Ralphs starts killing kittens. Okay, puppies. Until then, I'm inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Is someone going to come take away my Registered Democrat card?

***

Today I was sorry to hear of the passing of The Price is Right announcer Rod Roddy, who also did the voiceover for one of my favorite classic sitcoms, Soap. He doesn't really merit mention any more than George Plimpton or John Ritter, but I didn't happen to be writing anything on the day that I found out about them. I'll miss them all, even if I don't have a chance to mention each individually. In fact, if the pace of the last couple of months keeps up, I may have to initiate a Phil Hartman Memorial Memorial in this space to keep up with recent passings.

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