If you're a regular Shiftless Chef reader, I thank you. Also, undoubtedly, you have noticed that my output had ground to an abrupt, unexplained halt. I'd like an explanation for it, too.
I suspect strongly that a certain organization whose name I won't state expressly sucked out most of the joy I'd gotten from writing, which began with a knock on my door. Sitting here thinking, I've decided that I'll just go ahead and call the organization "Worked Over in America" and state that it's funded largely by the AFL-CIO. I'll leave you to do the detective work if you're so inclined.
The young lady who knocked on my door stated that she works for Worked Over in America, that Worked Over in America receives much of its funding from the AFL-CIO, and proceeded to educate me on a labor-related issue that the organization is working on. I listened intently, and noted outrage in her voice, restrained but unmistakably there. "Aren't you outraged?" Yes, the knee-jerk liberal in me was, indeed, outraged. They think they can away with this?
After getting me to write a brief statement and sign my name to it, she asked whether I'd be willing to get involved. What could I do to make sure this never happens again? I told her that I write and that I'd be happy to do it for them. Welcome aboard, comrade.
Two days later, I got a call that originated from a local number that I didn't recognize. Sure enough, the call was from a representative from Worked Over and I won't be taking her calls anymore. She asked if I'd like to meet to discuss my writing ideas. We met at my apartment, and every idea I ran across her was a real hard-hitter in her estimation. I told her I could get started shortly after my wife and I returned from our vacation, which would be sometime in July, and a couple of days after that, she called again.
She asked about my vacation, which I told her about in perhaps more detail than necessary, and then asked me how the blog was coming. Because I was still getting used to returning to dry land, I asked her to remind me of the ideas we'd discussed. I could hear her turning the pages of her Franklin Planner back to late June.
Shortly thereafter, I began my first piece for the Worked Over blog. It was about being unemployed and the toll it's taken on me. I addressed it to President Obama, a real bravura piece of writing. She thought so too, if "Excellent piece!" means anything. She'd have to run it across Worked Over's "communication team" first, and a couple of days later, I get another call. When is a good time to meet up with her and the state director?
Two or three days later was good, and I greeted them at my door after they'd gotten lost on the way here. The state director was ecstatic about the piece, especially the end, and wanted to know what else was on my mind. I told him, and he was ecstatic about that, too. How would I like to speak about my experience as an educator that upcoming weekend? Other than getting out of bed before the afternoon, I was thrilled about the prospect. I started assembling my wardrobe for the occasion as soon as they left.
The state director picked me up, and asked if I minded whether he put the top down. I recalled the time that my brother and I tagged along when an uncle took my grandma out for a driving lesson in his convertible; otherwise, it didn't make much difference to me. The state director drives a Lexus, so I figured that Worked Over must have deep pockets. I directed him to the nearest Shipley's Donuts. He bought a dozen glazed donuts and two kolaches, one for me and one for him. The state director didn't waste any time unwrapping his kolache, and I followed suit.
We ate kolaches and he talked turkey on the way to a tenth floor office where Worked Over is headquartered. Not everyone had arrived by the agreed upon time of 10:30, but we went ahead and got started. The state director talked at some length about the labor-related issue that got me mixed up with Worked Over in the first place. I was at a meeting, of which the agenda was dedicated largely to the labor issue. My involvement in the meeting consisted of little more than saying a few words about what it was like to be a teacher, sheepishly reaching for donuts, and declining juice. Nobody made coffee. I was to attend another Worked Over event that upcoming Thursday, a rally that was held somewhere downtown.
Several days passed before I received another call from the Worked Over representative I met with the first time. She asked me what I thought about the meeting and wanted to make sure that I was still attending the rally. I asked her what the communication department had to say about my blog. I'd checked the website, and nothing I'd written had been posted. I reminded her that it had been two weeks since I submitted the piece to her, and that that seemed to be out of the ordinary.
I received an email from her a couple of days after the call. The communication department thought that my piece was too long, that the ending was ambiguous, and that citing statistics was unnecessary because I'm not an economist. The representative from the communications department was interested, however, in my involvement with Worked Over In America, and whether I'd like to discuss that. I haven't heard from her since, but I assume that she's already written the communication department. I also received an email from the organization itself in which I was asked to pledge a suggested $15. I didn't reply, so I'll leave them to whatever assumptions they might have concerning my future involvement.
