05 May 2006

Casual Friday

I'm getting a little concerned about a friend of mine. He works for a prominent firm, one of those American Icons like Ford or GM- you would recognize it if I mentioned it. The name is not as important as the function. It once was as ubiquitous as the Kodak Camera.

I don't know if Kodak is still around, or if it is just a brand name. I suspect that the cameras are made someplace else. The point is that he could have been working for Chrysler, or the Port of Baltimore, entities as American as apple pie and owned by someone else.

I was out on the patio of the poolside unit at Big Pink. First Floor residents have been busy putting in flowers and getting ready for the temperate season. My pal seemed distracted, looking into the great dirty bathtub of Big Pink's pool.

The green tarpaulin of winter has been removed. The pool management company was pumping out the stagnant winter water in preparation for scrubbing and painting. The moon-shaped pool lights hung by wires from their waterproof fixtures.

It is normally a time of great anticipation at the building, the swimmers and sunbathers getting ready for the season. Somewhere in middle Europe, the Czech college students who are Big Pink's lifeguards are getting their visas and papers in order so they can fly here to sit on their trim butts in the corner by the gate. They will grow nut-brown as they watch the Americans burn, the rays of the sun a less filtered than last season as the ozone hole widens.

"The key is getting fired," announced my pal. He was dressed casually, for a work day, wearing a knit shirt and slacks. He folded his sport jacket over the back of my other chair. "If you quit, they take the benefits package way from you. If you wait very quietly and let them fire you, then they have to pay the money in the retention bonus account.”

"Well, that sure is an odd thing," I said carefully. I was enjoying the fact that the daylight lasts past the second episode of The Simpsons on the Fox network. I feel sorry about letting the major network news go, but it just isn't relevant anymore, and only has bad news. If something important happens, I assume they will break into the cartoon to inform us.

"So if you are waiting quietly, you aren't doing much business, are you?"

"I try. I have my pride. And the tragedy is that we have some good products, real world-beaters. It's just that since the announcement of the merger, some of my government partners don't want to talk to me. They want to know what is going to happen."

"Well, you can't blame them," I said. "They just want to have some assurance that everything is going to be OK. They need stability."

My pal frowned. "No shit. That is all I want." He shifted in the big Adirondack chair and ground his cigarette out on the concrete next to him. "The stars are aligning and I don't like it. Have you heard what is happening with contractors and security clearances?”

“I saw the article in the Post that the government has a backlog of over 300,000 security investigations. The system doesn't seem to be able to handle the stress of additional security requirements after 9/11.”

“It is worse than that. The Defense Security Service has announced that they are no longer accepting requests for periodic investigations from contractors.”

“What does that mean?” I asked quizzically. “The last two administrations made a point of out-sourcing all the classified work so the government didn't have to do it with federal workers. It was supposed to be a big cost saving.  I thought there was a war on.”

“That is what I thought. But they are still following the Cold War rules for security, like al-Qaida was the KGB. I have had a Top Secret clearance for thirty years and it is going to expire because the Government can't get out of its own way.” He sighed. “I am going to polish up the resume and get it on the street."

"But if you don't have a clearance, you can't do the work you have been doing all your life.”

“Catch-22, Buddy. Can't look for a job until I get fired, and the jobs I will be looking for, I can't do. Pretty strange situation.”

“This is a consumer society, you could always sell something that isn't classified.”

My friend shook his head sadly. "I could be a greeter at the WalMart, too. I am getting too old for this. I guess I was insulated in the defense business, and never really understood what it meant when the big companies issued those press releases.

“The ones that said they were going to trim the workforce to increase productivity? I always thought it sounded like a good thing. I guess I'm lucky that there is no danger of my company going out of business."

"Maybe. But let me give you a tip,” said my pal. “No one is safe. When the executives start wearing polo shirts under their sport jackets in the middle of the week, that is your clue that something is going on."

"I remember something like that happening in the Pentagon in the last summer of the first Bush Administration. All the political appointees seemed to find a lot of time for golf, or long lunches to do job interviews. It was eerie"

"Yeah," said my pal. "They don't tell you straight up, and they won't let you just go out an look for something new. They will not tell you until the security guy is standing by your desk and they want the laptop back and escort you down to the parking lot."

"Sounds heartless."

"It's not all bad. I have stopped wearing a tie. Waiting for the axe to fall means its casual Friday, all the time."

Copyright 2006 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com

Close Window