Oxfam Report: Give Us A Break

Oxfam Poultry Practices Report

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I am putting the link to the Oxfam report on practices in the poultry industry in the comment section, as well as a couple of others. It’s a comprehensive report across several states and companies. This isn’t a hatchet job from a single source– it is a serious reminder that many people are treated with inhumanity in some industries. I challenge anyone with an opinion to read the report in the link in the comments. For anyone who has worked a production poultry line, I am certain that you will be nodding your head in agreement while saying, “No Sh*%, Sherlock.” If you are in poultry management, it will piss you off because you either agree that it is inhumane or you will disagree because you will claim the issue doesn’t exist or, at least, isn’t as bad as some would have us believe. If you believe the latter, cash your check and ignore me.

For those working production lines, especially poultry, this report highlights the ongoing substandard practices found in many poultry plants. I’ve written about it many times.

I don’t want to hear blanket objections such as “But it doesn’t happen at my plant.” If it doesn’t, that is great news – and I mean that. In your case, the bad managers or companies are harming other companies in your field.

I’ve witnessed the type of inhumanity described in the Oxfam report. People were denied convenient access to the bathroom or were arbitrarily delayed. Production speed and cost vs. efficiency factors directly affected the staffing levels needed to give safe and necessary bathroom access. Did people suffer and sometimes urinate themselves? Yes. It may be going on right under your noses, even at your plant, where you think it doesn’t happen. In line production jobs, the odds are greater that people are made to feel bad for needing to go to the bathroom. “Hold it or else” can still be heard echoing the plant’s lines, in various languages.

The lower on the socioeconomic rung you or your job falls, the greater the chance that you are faced with the need to go to the bathroom but don’t have permission. If you’ve never worked in such a position, you are lucky. For politeness, I refer to ‘peeing,’ when in reality, who among us has not intestinal cramps so bad we couldn’t stand up, only to run for the bathroom before defecating ourselves? All of us – because we are human. That’s how people end up standing in production spots with urine or worse trailing down their leg. Of course they are ashamed and afraid to talk about it.

Being bilingual gave me a much better insight into how systemic and pervasive the problem was. Most of the poultry industry is minority-staffed and this reality distances the owners and managers from those doing the work, both in economic overlap and language.

I often give companies the benefit of the doubt, despite continuing to hear bathroom horror stories from many people. I still hear stories of people being denied bathroom breaks or being made to wait. The same factors from my past still affect human beings working in the poultry industry. Reports such as this one remind me that companies will all too often lose sight of the humanity of those doing the work.

Again – I am not saying ALL poultry plants operate this way, nor any specific one, local or distant. I am saying that it is still widespread. Further, I knew some great administrators and poultry managers who would say they never condone denying people access to bathrooms. Likewise, I knew that bathroom abuse was happening at their plants, on their watch. They would never believe it, even today. The people they trusted to run their plants felt like making people feel like they were not entitled to bathroom access was saving them money and that it was the right thing to do to perpetuate a system that humiliated or denied people the right to bathroom access; a necessary evil, if you would like to call it that. Regardless of whether the corporate offices or plant management know about unsafe and inhuman practices, the truth is that the entire company culture is their responsibility. These types of practices don’t become common unless cost is stressed at the expense of intangible considerations, including the human impact. If you can’t make a profit without doing things like those described in the report, find another business.

It costs money to operate production lines. Staffing to allow a human being to step off and go urinate, take their medications or do necessary bodily functions of course has an economic impact. We all know that if companies could engineer a way to mechanize all the production elements without people that they would do so. Until they do, however, it is an ethical and moral obligation for the company to honor people’s humanity and not only condone bathroom access, but to acknowledge and embrace it. Avoid the reputation of behaving like monsters and encourage training so that everyone from the production workers to the plant managers must structure their processes in such a way as to ensure that people aren’t standing in a line peeing themselves or being made to feel less-than-human because they need to step off their production spot to relieve themselves. One story of a grandmother peeing herself because she couldn’t get permission to leave her spot is one story too many.

It is such an obvious thing to say that I get angry writing it. If your mom worked at a poultry company and she said that her line supervisor laughed at her for asking (or begging) to go to the bathroom, I am sure that your first impulse might be to remind them via knuckle sandwich that your mom is a human being who needs to go to the bathroom when she asks. Would you be surprised to know that some production keep track of how many bathroom breaks you need – and would reprimand you for violating their arbitrary number? Is once a week too much? Once a day? If you’ve had nothing except jobs which honor your humanity, this will sound like a bad movie script to you.

Imagine all the times you went to the bathroom during the last work day you had. Imagine this: no matter how bad your need, imagine that you worked with hundreds of people and that you had to wait for someone to give your permission and replace you when you needed to go. Now imagine that instead of seeing someone walk up to you and allow you to go, that they called you ‘lazy’ and told you that you had to hold it an hour until the next line break. Or that you had to beg and provide intimate details of why you needed to go. Or decide whether to go without permission and risk losing your job. Now imagine that your mom, wife, or sister had to hear that kind of horrific inhumane response. That scenario is reality for a lot of people.

Kudos to those companies which don’t denigrate people like this. Shame to those which still do. I don’t doubt a single word of the Oxfam report.

When asked about the Oxfam report, many of the CEOs and marketing departments of some of the poultry companies were “outraged,” and “will be checking on the veracity of these reports.” Dear millionaires, can I save you some time? Call me. Of course this craziness is still going on. Not because some report says so. It’s because the people working on the line jobs at your companies say so, day in and day out. The reputation of line positions isn’t accidental. You’ve created it one bad incident at a time.

I put it out of my mind as I’ve moved on to jobs which aren’t monstrous in this regard. I still hear stories, though. And I read reports such as the one I mentioned. I hear it in English and Spanish.

Countless times people have asked me, “How do I find out if these things are true?” It’s strikingly simple, even for management. Find the lower-end employees, the ones working sanitation and production jobs, the ones with mops and knives, the ones speaking Spanish or other languages. Stand around them, listen, and ask questions. Listen again. Then ask them a question like this: “Is it common to be denied access to the bathroom?” All of them will tell you, “Of course.” That’s a problem. It’s a human problem aggravated by a profit motive.

Those doing the work experience the reality and consequences of cost control over humanity more directly than anyone else. If you can get them to talk, listen. And treat them with respect. They are doing jobs that we won’t, all so that we can eat the things we want to.

My food tastes like garbage when I think that people were treated this way in the United State while they were making my food. Raise the price of your product if you need to, if it allows people the right to behave and be treated like human beings worthy of respect for their biology, if not their humanity.

Lives on The Line Link

 

Lives On The Line Full Report

Humanity aside, if a company perpetuates an environment wherein treating people like this happens, what do you imagine is ‘really’ going on in the production and food safety side of the equation?” – X

PS: I started writing this yesterday, after seeing it on a “Southern Poverty Law Center” comment. Within 60 seconds of me posting this, someone who knows me well had tagged me on social media on another site to draw my attention to it. That’s how much this issue bothers me.

 

Hello, Again

worry too much paper plane crash

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I’m a dog-walker. No, I don’t ambulate with canines. Rather, I walk on all fours and sniff everything in the room.

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Do you know how it is when someone says the most hateful, racist thing – but for social reasons you can’t say anything, much less start hollering? That feeling is my new description for the word ‘work.’ ~X

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Comedy has a way of expressing uncomfortable truths or observations that anger people. Sometimes, it is because what they hold dear is simply being mocked and sometimes it is because they know in their hearts that a belief, hobby or way of life that defines them is worthy of some mockery, because many of us take our pursuits much too seriously, so much so that it often defines us. Comedy belies the fact that we all look at each other with snarky eyes and listen with sarcastic ears – but pretend that we don’t.

The following joke I wrote for a comedian is the perfect example:

“I got a concealed carry gun permit this week, after months of waiting. I beat up one of the gun nuts who earned one and took his permit. I told him he should consider carrying a knife to protect himself.”

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I planted a new garden yesterday, including some corn, tomatoes and squash. The field maintenance manager for Bulldog stadium was not amused!   #fiftyyardlinegarden

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My advice has alternated between “Keep your head up” and the much-less optimistic “Keep your head ON.”

OR

“Optimism: keep your head up.

“Cynicism: keep your head on.”  – X

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40/29 News & Weather called me for a quote regarding the incorrect weather report for yesterday: “I was blown away by the coverage.”

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“No matter how large of a life you’ve lived, you gotta remember that it all fits inside one hat.” -X

Prince and Privacy

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What prompted this rambling post is that I made a Prince-themed picture for a Facebook friend. I made some graphics and ended up with something unusual and personal, as she was a major Prince fan. I used a high school yearbook photo of my friend that she didn’t even own. It is true that I had to use hop-scotch and logic to surmise her maiden name and geography, but I’ve done this so long that it was overwhelmingly obvious that the picture was indeed her when I encountered it. When I did an ancestry.com search, even though my Facebook friend is still alive, the amount and breadth of information was staggering. (PS: The more unusual your name is, the greater the likelihood that you can be found with much more speed and volume of information.)

I often forget that not everyone understands the sheer magnitude of the internet. There is nothing it fails to touch. Regardless of the number of posts I write above privacy and data volume, I routinely surprise someone with pictures of their junior high year book, their birth date, relatives they never knew they had, secret marriages and divorces divulged, or comments they wrote 15 years ago on a “We Love Axes” message board.

I’ve had situations where people assume I am stalking them or somehow have done something untoward to access information or pictures of them. While I don’t condone stalking, I hate to admit that I am still shocked at this reaction. Stalking requires effort and dedication to match the twisted mind of the person motivated enough to actually stalk another person.(My Facebook friend didn’t believe I was stalking her, to be clear, but she was definitely surprised…)

Since I live among normal human beings, I go back and read a reminder I wrote to myself in an old blog. The reminder tells me to pretend that the person in question just started out on the internet – and therefore is honestly surprised. Even when someone is a writer, actor or lawyer in real life, they are still prone to misunderstanding the reach of the internet in their lives. Once I can imagine the person involved honestly feeling exposed to it for the first time, I am once again sympathetic and feel uneasy at being the one to show them. It’s not my intention to ‘out’ them to the internet or make them feel violated.

The internet is exactly like a room full of stacked and folded newspapers. You might need  a year to go through them to find your name, but it is a certainty that your life is described somewhere in those papers. Over time, someone reads, indexes, and scans all those papers, page by page, thousands and millions of them. And so, your life gets increasingly searchable. You don’t get to vote on whether it happens, or even to what extent.

We sit in a seemingly infinite pool of data. It’s an inhospitable place if you want to feel like you live a protected and quiet life.

 

 

 

 

Don’t Blink In the Lavatory

 

 

“I don’t like to be late,” the guy said with a slight edge of irritation in his voice.
“I don’t like to be later,” I quipped, as being cryptic was my goal for the day.

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Each day the ice cream truck drives past my house, blaring horrific, cartoony music. Man, I don’t like Kanye West.

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Why is a redneck spitting on the ground while having a conversation okay but if I urinate on your hat while we are ice skating someone is gonna get mad?

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After watching one of the dumb efficiency experts talk, I tried flying out of bed in the morning instead of getting up slowly, but the propellers continue to get stuck in the covers.

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Robin Schulz’ “Sugar”

To anyone who wants to hear Prince’s influence, I challenge you to listen to this song and imagine that Prince were singing it. Everything about it screams his presence. I’m the most tragically unhip white guy to ever live, but this song resonates. Plus, the police officer is a guy I’d love to have an Irish coffee with someday.

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The following is the kind of crazy social media post I enjoy writing:

Have you guys ever wondered about the social discomfort vampires can cause? In some movies, vampires won’t bite people who use drugs. That could be very awkward: if you were on a job interview in the evening and a vampire kicks in the door and sees you, sitting opposite your prospective employer behind his desk. If he doesn’t bite you, you’ll never get the job, as your employer will know you’re using drugs. If he does bite you, you will also never get the job, either, because you are applying for day shift and the sun will cause scheduling problems for your boss. This is a very serious issue I’d like to see addressed in a vampire movie. Tomorrow we’ll discuss thermonuclear dissipation techniques but right now, we need this vampire issue settled. Thank you.

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An Angel Sings For Heaven

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The truth is you may never know who hears or sees your words, music, or life, nor what lessons are derived.

Many voices have withered through the inattention that life’s unending demands heap upon us.

What is done without perfected reflection is at times the best fruit to be consumed, just as the best smile is one born from unstudied happiness: life blossoms where it will.

Let us not forget to appreciate talent where we find it.

(I borrowed a friend-of-a-friend’s video and used the music, as I’m not sure the person singing and playing appreciates the sheer talent or practice reflected in her efforts. I ask forgiveness for hearing something ethereal and celestial in the music.)

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The above video is a song I slightly modified from a friend’s twitter feed. He’s playing the piano. When I heard it, lyrics seemed to jump out and hit me in the face. Luckily, he seemed to like my interpretation of his work.

Wednesday Amused

If I hear “May the fourth be with you” one more time, I won’t hate it because it wasn’t clever. I’ll hate it because that joke is so stale it smells like a fart stored in an old mayonnaise jar left out in the summer sun for 16 years. Besides, we get it: you enjoy Star Wars, much in the same way as I enjoy not smelling old farty mayonnaise jars.

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Misheard but exceptional quote: “When it rains it whores.”

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“I don’t post pictures on Facebook because I don’t like the way I look.” Using that logic, my only question is, “How comfortable are you only coming out at night?”

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“Money can’t buy happiness.” Hmmm… I’m pretty happy when I don’t have to see my boss’ nostril hairs for two days.  Imagine the ecstasy I’d feel after a month.

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The new-hire asked, “What’s the philosophy of this business, how do they operate?” His appointed mentor looked at him for several seconds and replied, “Resistance is futile.”

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New phrase to describe donated items: “The best things that money didn’t buy.”

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Let’s be honest: the best thing to punish most DWI offenders with is a court-mandated poetry interpretation course. They will be so angry they will never drink and drive again.

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Some people can’t help but overkill everything. For example, some people aren’t happy with falling off a cliff – they feel they must jump.

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Some studies suggest that medical mistakes may actually be the true #2 cause of death in the U.S.A. There’s no joke here – that is true.

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The biggest study yet done on spanking, spanning 50 years and 160,000+ children, has again determined that spanking might yield short-term changes in behavior, but result in long-term negative consequences. I know that people everywhere are going to shake their heads in disagreement, because if there is one thing we know, it is that anecdotal confusion of evidence is the modern-day camouflage of logic.

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I hope one day we discover that dogs have languages, too. Not that they all speak the same language, but that each one has his own, with none being capable of understanding the others. It will explain a lot about the Republicans to me.

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Isn’t it strange that connections to real people do more to restore customer service than almost any other metric, yet businesses still feel compelled to treat labor costs and human presence as a burdensome cost to be avoided?

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Here’s the deal: if you give me a place to live, food to eat, transportation, and medical care, I think the minimum wage would be just about right. #stupidcomparisons

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If we started calling perfumes ‘odorants,’ which they are, I would hope that sales will fall. Only 1 in 7 perfumes smell anything like the term ‘pleasant.’

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Just once I’d like to watch one of those nature documentaries and see a group of cows in a field – and then one of the cows farting, followed by a snicker from another cow in the group. It’s all about small goals.

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If you get pulled over and are asked to walk “a straight line,” first remember that lines are theoretical constructs that don’t exist in reality – and they are infinite. So, the answer is always “No.” And you should never lie to a police officer.

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My Dream Says Colin Powell Will Be President

In the one-in-a-million chance that I had a prescient dream, take a second to read the short synopsis of a crazy dream I had last night. It was so real that I went to work with the echo of it in my head. I imagine the dream was a combination of Trump’s Indiana victory and scenarios playing in my fevered sleep from being unable to be comfortable the entire night.

PS. I don’t believe in dreams seeing the future, or any supernatural claptrap such as that.

I had a dream last night, one that lingered after I crawled from bed this morning. I was sitting at my computer, and checked my email one last time. I had a solitary email with the subject line: “Objective Election.” There was both an elephant and donkey logo, albeit in a strange form, above the only text in the email. When I opened it, the first line said this: “Trump presumptive nominee. Alternative election configuration active. 4th candidate scenario is advised. Powell to win.” The email had no sender and no other information. As I was about to print or screenshot the screen image, the email blinked and disappeared.

None of the major candidates currently running for president will win the election. If my very intricate dream is correct, somehow Colin Powell will be the next president, despite his age.

Bear in mind, this was just a dream. But if it turns out to be true, do I get credit for being the first psychic ever?

About Pictures…

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As important a moment as a wedding might be, it is a singular event, out of focus when compared to the bulk of one’s life. Weddings are rare May snows when silhouetted against the millions of daily moments that comprise the range of our lives. It’s easy to be joyous for a wedding. It’s much more difficult to live a good life without at least some pictures that bring us back to moments of turmoil or indecision. Weirdly enough, we mentally fog them over much of the time, allowing nostalgia to cloud our recollections of pain, struggle, or loss.  Our minds revere the ability to discolor our past in an emotionally satisfying palette. A good picture taken even in circumstances of unhappiness can later paradoxically bring us peace and joy.

Sifting through boxes and albums personally assembled by someone is an invitation into their private life. Whether selected photos are chosen for strategic intent or personal worth, they are placed there with care, as significant slivers of that person’s life. Each picture is a moment someone thought to capture for future review and reflection. All too often, a picture snapped in haste or humor evolves to become a touchstone memory in someone’s life. A great picture reveals a truth we didn’t even recognize. The things or people we believe to be memorable are often supplanted by memories we simply failed to appreciate as they approached.

After doing many archive projects for friends and family, I continue to find myself confronting the complexity of the people in the pictures. Seeing a person’s life spread out in front of me tends to demonstrate that each of us travels the same byways – and if we are lucky, with people who catch us in moments of mirth.

Quite often, as I am digitizing a picture of another person, I suddenly see that person from a new perspective. Whether it is a moment of coy surprise, insidious delight or unadulterated glee, something in the picture feels alive and spans across the days or decades from when it was taken. I feel like Christopher Reeve’s character in “Someone In Time,” imagining that time is indeed an illusion and some unseen hand has flung open a door facing backwards in time. As strange as it may sound, these moments are profound. For anyone who has never done a project with the photos of a person’s life, the concept might seem slightly doubtful.

In parting, let me remind you to take your pictures and then let them breathe. Share them. A picture not shared is a life unrevealed. Time will brick up your door moment by moment, leaving your view cluttered if you do not reflect back by peering into the individual memories that pictures provide us. Don’t let your life be frittered away by the attempt to simply capture moments – but equal to that caution should be the urge to share and reveal oneself in pictures to those in your life.

 

 

 

An Inelegant Tuesday Afternoon

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I ain’t saying the mechanic’s shop was trying to take advantage of me, but I thought I saw Bill Cosby changing the oil on a car in there.

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“Time does not race you. It’s patient, knowing that it has every second in the world to casually win the sprint.”

I made the picture below, using yearbook pictures from 50 years ago. I posted it on the social media of one the teachers everyone loves and will remember.

“While immortality is impossible, teachers have the best chance at going the furthest, at least while human memories last.”

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My wife got excited when I told her I went to buy a new micro-wave. But her excitement diminished greatly upon my arrival home. I did buy a new micro-wave. Not for cooking, though – it is a really small hand that I hold up in the air when I see someone I know.

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A joke for fans of esoteric jokes: I guess I should have paid more attention when I was craving macaroni. Evidently, I bought a box containing one huge macaroni noodle. The box was labelled “Macroroni.”

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I’m way out of touch. A high school student asked me if I was a fan of Drake. “Nah,” I told him. “Duck feathers cause esophageal irritation.”

 

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