Thursday, 11 July 2013

Draft chapter 24: my father's memoir

I got myself a job working at Gibneys, which was the premier graphics company in Perth.  There I ran into a bloke called Rob,  who took dislike to me  I'm not sure why.  One reason may have been that one evening he gave me some jobs to do on the scanner which I  had some difficulty to get running smoothly.  To operate these scanners you had to take a piece of unexposed film and put them in the machine to get the scanner going and then you took the film back and put it in a processor.  I put the first piece through and then I realized I couldn't remember whether I'd taken it out or not, so I put another sheet through,  but now this Rob fellow had also put a huge piece of film though.   But mine had jammed up the works,  so this Rob fellow didn't like me.  When he put his piece of film though,  my piece of film was stuck to his and he went into a rage.

I got transferred to another department. Plate making.  It was more easygoing, at least for me.   The supervisor ended up being me.  Actually when I first got to plate making,  the supervisor was a bloke who he was from Bulawayo,  Rhodesia.  He would do nasty things to bugger you up.  We parted company and I became supervisor for a bit.

A photographic film has an emulsion on it and these photographic plates have an emulsion on them.  I used to teach making silk screens the way at the polytechnic.

In the plate making was a step and repeat machine.  The machine would expose a film in one position and would remove the film to the next position and expose the next film.  By setting it up properly you could impose a book or magazine onto the plate.  We had to do the telephone directory.  But the machine was malfunctioning.  It wouldn't put a clear image on the plate.  The plates went out and couldn't be printed as the machine was broken.  I was fired.

The trouble was the problem had happened twice and this had been the second time.  I had told them there had  been a problem but they hadn't listened.   From their point of view, I shouldn't have allowed the plates to go through.  I had known the machine was broken, but the particular way it was broken, I didn't expect.  Everybody in the factory was shocked when they heard I'd been fired as they thought I was one of  the better operators.

I went home and phoned a friend of mine who had been fired by the same company.  He told me there was another job going at another company.  I was not unemployed for very long.

To be honest, at that time I was a bit wild.  The day I got fired I just carried on working.  But then I'd already upset the management in a different way because they were printing an encyclopedia of sex,  with lots of pages of photographed genitals and that sort of thing,  and I made it plain I thought this was wrong.  It probably contributed to my firing.  After this, another bloke gave me a hint of where to go. I went and got a job there.  There were two places,  one he had hinted about and one I had discovered for myself.  I was about to throw a dice and see which one I should go to when Glenda stopped me and made me choose one.  I chose S. Print.  

It probably was the best decision as I managed to settle in to S. print,  because they were very accommodating,  paying me a good salary and the conditions were not too bad,  except there I ran into another fellow.  He was in charge of me in theory.  The management took me on because they wanted me to get rid of him by firing him.  He used to make big mistakes with jobs.  

This bloke was very difficult to work with.  He would call me into the dark room and point to the boxes of film and tell me my boxes were not lined up exactly.  He was obsessive compulsive and a perfectionist.

I'd had a lot of stress since arriving in Australia and at S.'s I had a new boss who was building it up even worse.  This bloke was one of them and there was another as well.  DS would just start talking to you and he would find fault with little things and all sort of things.  It was like he was twisting a knife.  I realized i had to get out of there.

This was after the tension had built up.

I applied with a job for a printing supply company.  In due course I went to work for Y,  which was a Swiss company.  Then I stayed at Y until recently.  The sales manager, who used to be my friend, became obnoxious and he forced me out.  The same thing had happened to him in England, where someone had forced him out,  so he decided he would do the same to me.  He was a little man,  quite literally.  This started a long period of unemployment.

During that time, I walked nearly the whole of Perth to sell web pages. I think I went into every building in Perth except for private houses.  I had lost confidence in myself at that stage and didn't feel confident enough to go for other jobs.

During this stage I started running,  which helped pull me out of the depression.   I was in my late forties or early fifties.  

Then Glenda saw the advert in the paper for someone to sell print consumables.  I thought nobody would employ me.  I refused to say anything about myself except for a few sentences referring the application and stating I would like to apply.  Glenda typed it and printed it on the computer.  I signed it under sufferance.  

I'm pretty much in that position again.  Nobody will give me a job.

I sent the letter off and I got the job because the person who saw the letter had known me and seen me around.

 The person who offered me the job wanted to speak to me late at night and talked a lot.  I didn't get back until after midnight.  Glenda thought I had committed suicide.  She was frantic when I didn't return after a few hours.



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Cultural barriers to objectivity