The Hotel Hell's contract is expired; Union is doing its thing, and the Starwood (aka- 'slash 'em & burn 'em) management is doing its thing.
I admit it. I live in paradise. I work 2 jobs to live in paradise. I average perhaps on a bad year, 345 days of work. On a good one, maybe 325. Dont cry for me, I dont deserve the paradise i live in.
If you dont care for unions, organizers and that kind of stuff, beat a hasty retreat now, and if anyone wants to Dooce me, be my guest. I could give a rip. Why? Because I am not the only one that works 2 or 3 jobs to attain a middle class lifestyle; here in the tropics. Many union workers here work 2 or 3 jobs, assist immediate family members w/ financial shit, because we are all Ohana or "family", no matter how much my eldest pisses me off, he still my son. Anyhow, stories go that many older workers in their 70's fear of retirement because of possibly losing health coverage, many work 2 jobs to dream of home ownership, which generally remains a dream for most.
It is a half-a-millon for a 1200 sq. ft. townhouse, in the furthest 'burb, with a drive time to and from work (ON AN ISLAND!!!!!) of 2 hours or more. Thats bullshit. A living wage in Hawaii is 22 bucks and hour, thats a LIVING WAGE Not a living large wage, but a living wage. At the Hotel, I have 24 years here. 24. I earn just over 18 bucks and hour for a 5 hour or 6 hour shift. I work about 1100 hours a year. For that i earn 80 hours of vacation. If I dont work 1000 hours, I earn zilch.
In the fire house, I earn less per hour than the Hotel. Yeah, thats right less per hour. To learn, protect, and sacrifice my ass for the public, I earn less per hour than catering to tourists, and the managers that guide(!?)employees.
Oh, I am on a bitch here, no?
Sure my firehouse schedule is sweet; work 24, off 3 days, work 24. I still earn less per hour.
Which is why I work 2 frikking jobs. Not only that, but cost of living. Cost of residing here is pretty steep. But I get to work 2 jobs. So i can earn a living wage.
Pressures mount, a immigrant family with kids, elders and native Hawaiians, are socially and economically the most disadvantaged. Thereby, being the easiest to abuse. And thats what the managers of any tourist oriented place will do if allowed.
Beacuse they are smart enough to keep 'em down on the farm.
By creating a structural violence, by making the dreams they have inaccessible, by diminishing the expectations they have for ourselves, they make our dreams seem not allowed, not acceptable, or accessible. And they relish in it; only because I speak pretty damn good english minus the pidgin when I have to, do I get away with alotta the shit that i shoudnt. But many are not so adept with language, and the type of verbal judo that can leave management types in a whirl.
Incomes for the Hotels are rising always; there is yes the profit factor to always have, and to increase for the investors.
When you charge 80 bucks for a bottle of wine that cost 6 bucks, you are fooling some, but your fucking with me. How many sensitivitytraining classes do I need to learn of the Aloha spirit? My family goes back to the early 1800's. WTF? If I dont know it now, when the fuck am I going to?
The greatest thing is the people who work for a living wage. They keep me returning; we are all paddling this canoe to some shore to gain for our children and their children something that has been lost in the commercialization of this land -
Aloha.
It cant be bought or sold, it is in you, or it isnt.
I am irritated, and tired, and stoopid as well. I do ignorant things and make snide ass comments at inopportune times. Intending only to do well, I fall and create pain or worse, hurt.
And the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Not intending to purposefully fuck up, I do. Then the great guilt follows, and what good is that?
Arggggggh, i am rambling.
So sorry.
Have a good 4th of July, stay safe.
Aloha.
3 comments:
You may have been rambling, well written ramble in any case, but I think most of us can relate to what you are saying here.
It seems that you touch on a key element of change and that is hope. The hope that we can change our lives and the lives of our children for the better. Without hope we are all going through the motions in vain. Hope is the catalyst that causes us to change our lives. Without it we have nothing.
The six dollar bottle of wine going for eighty bucks messes with me too. The entire time I was in Paris I felt like I needed to stop bending over; the rectal trauma I suffered was almost unbearable. I paid 4.50 American for a small eight ounce bottle of water, while visiting Notre Dame Cathedral…no wonder I was dehydrated when I got home. I am a tight wad out of necessity, and because I can’t see spending more than is necessary. The phrase more money than sense smacks me in the face a lot.
You keep venting Mark it’s good for your soul, mine too.
Rant-tastic. Good to get it off your chest. I've been thinking about you the last couple of days. We're in full-blown Cherry Festival this week -- the peak of our tourist season.
I brake for Fudgies. I let Fudgies into traffic. I take the time to give them directions, recommend a decent restaurant, whatever.
They treat our waitstaff like crap. They trash our beaches. They blame our gas station clerks for $3.10/gallon. They bitch at the grocery clerk for refusing to sell alcohol before noon on Sunday. They cut me off in traffic, ride my bumper, flip me the bird. They keep the cops & the EMTs & the firefighters busier than usual, because they think if they're spending a grand and a half on a weekly rental, they can do whatever they effin' want to do.
Fireworks 24/7; illegal fireworks, set off too close to trees, cottages, whatever. Boomboxes blaring through the wee hours; screw the resident down the street who's got to be at work by 8am.
I had a UPS driver in my driveway near tears, running late with deliveries due to traffic jams during the air show. Is management going to dock his pay? Is he going to miss his daughter's birthday party? Probably.
The up-side? Fudgies mean my kid can work an extra job this summer; my kid needs the extra job. He's got bills I won't pay.
But who's taking care of the people who take care of the Fudgies? Who supports them during and after the abuse? Management feels the pressure too, but in my mind, they shouldn't be management if they can't take the heat and stand up for the staff. Without the staff, they got nada.
I won't initiate rudeness with a fudgie. But when they're bitching at my neighbors because they have to leave their precious case of Bud Light behind the counter on a Sunday morning, I will say something, just enough to call their attention to the fact that grocery store clerks don't pass state legislation and yelling at a young mother trying to make ends meet won't change state law.
Where the freak is the manager during all this?
Out back, taking a smoke break, because he can't handle the stress.
Service industry workers need moral support, decent wages, good management, and PAID time off.
Management needs to cop to the responsibility of supporting staff.
People on vacation need to lighten the eff up, otherwise, what's the point of being on vacation?
I hear ya, buddy. ALOHA!
I pay a pretty good chunk of my wages in union dues; seeing how people get treated when they don't have someone on their side has convinced me it's worth every penny!
alan
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