A blog that was supposed be made up of bits about cab rides and blurbs about beauty products but, instead, is about other things.



Now that I'm old, and leaning to the right, I can admit: unions are not so smart.

Garment workers? If you literally work in a factory, then sure, you can form a union.

Journalists? If you work at an alternative newsweekly, not so much.

The B(e)acon Theater? I probably shouldn't even begin to rail against this one. I guess it goes without saying that big scary union men would try their hardest to screw with a small charity, and then chalk it all up to "union rules." (And by "try their hardest," I mean "do as little as humanly possible and overchage and take lots of breaks.") Boo.

Cab drivers? Fine. Your alliance sounds sweet. Steven Greenhouse's NYT article reads as if it should have a smiley-faced emoticon at the end of the headline, though. But it got me. Enjoy your health insurance and archaically stringent rules of conduct.

(If you think I'm a spoiled brat today, just wait until I post about luxury nail polish tomorrow.)
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