PatsPond has my post regarding the last/first nights of our changeover to Johnson City. My relief at the lack of paper particulates and ink globules in the air was instantly replaced by anxiety when the higher-ups stopped in.
Our new boss was making inquiries: Why are there so many employees? Too much overtime. He seems to be all for more computers, but against the employees to work them.
He asked again why there were so many of us. We are three. There are seven nights a week to man, and ten publications to prepare. He happened to be there when all was running well, and we seemed idle. Actually we shifted to other duties; I went to advertising and my immediate boss turned to work on his comics collectors' column. We left the weekend person to his usual duties. We would simply not be there on a normal Sunday night.
New Boss would know this if he had ever come up to our workplace on any work night. Then we would seem undermanned and overworked. This may be alleviated with the new configuration, but we will still be working on advertising and layout preparation. We also compose the classifieds, and insert obituaries and other directories.
This person showed up for the ceremonial fluff, driving to Johnson City with the publisher. It insulted and demoralized us to have him come through, questioning our function and necessity. Up at JC he would be smiling for the photographers recording the launch. We will not see him again for months.
I know that later this week Prepress will be very, very busy, as usual. Mr. Bossman will not climb the stairs to see us sweating out (literally; there is no air conditioning right now) the details that make things seem to run so smoothly when the functionaries come for their self-congratulatory rites.
They are so disconnected that they cannot see the seeds of hatred they are engendering. At a time when NewBoss should be bringing us all together to work as one unit, he left us hissing with disgust and seething with resentment.
What a damnable shame.