Wanted: Professionals

I was out walking the dog in the early afternoon and came across my Uncle Jack. He was evidently in a good mood and he was smiling.

"I had a stroke of good luck today", he said. "You know the two Persian rugs we got for my second wedding. I have been looking for a long time for some professional cleaners. There are so many around, who don't know how to do it properly, and I don't want them ruined."

"But this morning a saw a van in front of my neighbour's house. Two men were loading a few rugs into the back. I went over to talk to them. They had just set up business, had been properly trained in the right methods of cleaning valuable rugs, and know they had started a small business in a town nearby. They talked professionally about the quality of the rugs, and I decided that those were the men I needed for having my rugs cleaned. They were very friendly and agreed to take my rugs with them right away. I went to my house to get them and put them into the car. They will be ready in two days, and the will be brought to my house without any extra charge. It is nice to come across some real professionals."

I walked on, and came across Uncle Jack's neighbour. He was evidently not in a good mood. 

"What is this world coming to", he asked. "You can't even leave your house for a couple of hours in broad daylight. I went to the bank today, was away for a maximum of two hours and when I came back, my house had been burgled. They must have been professionals. All my oriental rugs have been taken - nothing else."

I should be phoning Uncle Jack, but I keep putting it off.

You Have to Fight

Here's another story from my grandfather. At one time he was working in a sawmill. He was a member of the trade union as everyone else was, as the mill was a closed shop and therefore only took on union members.

Every year the pay and work conditions were fixed in an agreement between the management of the mill and the union. My grandfather at one time was elected as a union representative and took part in the preparations of the demands forwarded to the management ahead of negotiations.

It was before these matters were taken care of by men and women with degrees in economics and business administration. Demands were worked out by the men on the floor. Often in the evening over a glass or two of beer after a long day of hard work. And the agreement were negotiated by the representatives of the men on the floor.

The great day arrived. My grandfather and two other men - one was Carl, the boss of the workers, and the other one was an ordinary representative like my grandfather - went up to the Board Room to negotiate. Their nails were clean and their shirts were white for the occasion.

They sat down at the nice table in the formidable room. Bottled water and real glasses were on the table and the manager opened the meeting.

"We have had a look at your proposals, and I am pleased to say, that we can accept all your demands", he said.

Carl got up. His face had turned red and he looked angrily around the room. "Then they are not high enough" he retorted and left the room, slamming the door. My grandfather and the other representative got up silently and followed him.