Thursday, November 17, 2005

I worked in the early 90s for a smallish Bay Area mail-order retail catalog company, long defunct. I've recently taken to Googling names of former co-workers, long scattered to the four winds. No trace of any of them shows up online, except for one individual, whom I'll call Doug Waters.

At the time I knew him, Doug was a company official who'd been brought on, not because he had any relevant job experience, but because he was presumably "executive material," and a personal friend of the company founder.

Doug had come from back East. It was whispered that he came from lots of money, that his family had had much to do with the settling of a certain Eastern state. The buzz had it that the Waters clan had played a big hand in the politics of this state ever since. Doug certainly seemed to live comfortably enough, perhaps on family money, or on the salary my employer paid him.

My kind were Indians. We did indispensable work at the company, on the phone with customers--or so we were told by management. We were paid $10 an hour, at best, with marginal health benefits. Doug was a chief.

Considering Doug had a company to run, it struck some of us that he spent an inordinate amount of time in the lounge with employees, at lunchtime and during breaks, glad-handing us. Sometimes, he pontificated on current national politics--this was the era of the Clarence Thomas confirmation scandal--or asked us our opinions.

When Doug got up to leave, we'd scowl at each other.

I'm sorry to say I didn't quit that job, and go someplace my talents and work would be valued, in more than empty employer rhetoric. Rather, I waited for the company to go out of business, which it did, inexorably, in the recession of the early 90s.

One day, a number of people with my job title were let go.

"You don't balance the budget on the back of the little guy, while the parasites at the top keep gorging themselves," the receptionist clucked.

But Doug clearly wasn't a happy man then. The company founder wasn't happy. The company chiefs in those days spent more time out of their offices than in, pacing nervously, as the company was inventoried, in preparation for the bankruptcy filing.

The last memory I have of Doug is his expression the day the last of us with my job title were let go. It struck me at the time that Doug's mien wasn't grave--so much as it was blank and lost.

Back to the future. Articles on the web have it that Doug will be running as Republican candidate for governor of this Eastern state his family hails from. Oh, why is this no surprise?
8:49:25 AM    comment []