Union Thugs?

A Pug and a Thug
(R.P.Edwards)

A pug is a pug
And a thug is a thug
And a pug on a rug
Is not a rug with a thug
Nor is a thug on a rug
A rug with a pug
But a thug can act like a pug
But no self respecting pug…
Will act like a thug

The Union meeting started as most; a little small talk, a joke or two, some family news, and the happenings at the favorite fishing hole-- “You should have seen it!” bellowed a rather rotund (and well lubricated) laborer as he held his hands apart to their widest span. And then…it began. With a dimming of the white lights (leaving only a slowly pulsing red) the swarm, without a sound, filed into their decades-worn wooden seats as the ancient off-white screen (squeaking in protest) lowered from the ceiling and the gruesome slide-show began. One, after another, after another, after another and another…picture after picture of workers being abused, maimed, beaten, and dying. Every so often--in an almost subliminal quickness--images of companies, fat-cats, uncaring politicians, flashed amongst the carnage and--punctuating each photo of the “enemy”--a low, guttural gong. And then, images of grave after grave after grave. Fifteen horrid and hypnotic minutes passed and, as quickly as it began, the display ended and…we were ready.

The red-shirted leader (the room bathed in an eerie silence) slowly emerged from the sideline (walking with a slow, nagging, debilitating limp from a work related accident) and, as he stepped behind the old and gnarled podium (bathed only in the stark light of the empty projector) he leaned forward and, with the piercing gaze of an Old Testament prophet…he slowly scanned every section…and every face. “Are we going to stand for this?!” he shouted. “NO!” was the immediate, unified, momentous response. “Are we going to stand for this?!” he screamed again (slamming the podium with both fists). “NO!” returned the unified mass, standing to their feet and many shaking their own fists at the image of a company leader (in a most arrogant pose) who suddenly appeared on the screen…mocking them. “Then let’s get outta here and show them what the American worker can do!!” With that final unction the frenzied mob rolled out of the hall like an avalanche and, all I can say is…heaven help those who would dare stand in their way. Yes, heaven help them.

Excuse me a moment as I pause to admire my work of fiction (above). Not bad. OK, here’s the deal: A few days ago some union guys roughed up a Mr. Gladney who was giving out patriotic flags which said “Don’t tread on Me!” outside a “healthcare” forum site. It seems that these “Union Goons” didn’t like that…so they “tread” on him. Well, naturally there are those who would use this incident to reinforce their image of unions and their members. The phrases, “Union thugs,” “Union Goons,” “Union Mob,” …they just roll off the tongue, don’t they? But, the simple truth is…these ruffians were an anomaly. Sure, they were, and are thugs and goons…but the union didn’t make them that way. Honestly, in my approaching two decades of union membership I have discovered that union people are just that…people. You may be surprised to know that many will not, unthinkingly, swallow the party line. We have many pro-life, pro-second amendment, pro-traditional family members. And, aside from the left and right issues, most are just honorable, hardworking sorts who just want to make an decent wage and support the ones they love. Excuse me a minute…there’s somebody at the door. “Hi guys, what’s up?…Um, guys!…”

That's what I think.  How about you? Click comments below...and say.