Eileen Brady’s pass expires

by Steve, February 1st, 2012

labor

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Let’s all go shopping

Last year, when Eileen Brady declared her intent to run for Portland Mayor, I started trying to draw attention to her and her husband’s anti-labor past with Nature’s fresh Northwest and its successor, New Seasons Market. Portland’s non-union (and often anti-union) media missed the boat completely and gave her a pass when she claimed credibility as a “progressive” employer.

Now Nigel Jaquiss, one of the few reporters in town who not only “gets it” on any number of issues, but also has the editorial freedom to “write it,” has dug up a remarkable passage in the New Seasons employee manual Brady takes credit for writing (her paternalistic husband claims he wrote the passage in question).

Labeling unions “extremist” and lumping them in with “anti-human rights organizations,” the manual appears in conflict with federal labor law (which guarantees workers the right to talk with and about unions).

Read Nigel’s piece to get all the hilarity of Brady’s husband Brian Rohter (who screamed sexism at an earlier WW piece) trying to shield his wife from criticism on this.

Way to go, Nigel. Glad there’s at least one reporter in Portland who is willing to probe Brady’s questionable past with regard to organized labor.

Update 2/1/2012 2:00pm: Brady’s campaign wasted no time getting a defensive e-mail blast out (read it on her campaign Web site).

sunrise over Mt. Hood in time lapse

by Steve, January 12th, 2012

The sunrise wasn’t as dramatic today as yesterday, but I had my camera ready. Music played by me some time in the 90s, recorded on a 4-track cassette recorder. J.V. Owings “Musette” for 4 clarinets. (Sloppy edit at the end; still learning how to do this video stuff!)

My commute this morning

by Steve, November 1st, 2011

It’s all good; it’s $ustainable!

by Steve, June 2nd, 2011
How the bad seed of greed infested Nature's

New Seasons Market founder Eileen Brady has declared in the race for Portland mayor. Since she has no political experience, she is leaning heavily on her experience as a “progressive” employer, among other things.

I’m down with a lot of the things she’s worked for: local, sustainable agriculture and health care, for example. But I got some bones to pick with the idea of New Seasons modeling a progressive workplace, based largely on my experience working for Brady’s husband Brian Rohter and New Seasons co-owner Stan Amy at Nature’s in the 90s. Things are obviously different at New Seasons today than they were 15 years ago at Nature’s. But casual conversations with New Seasons staff confirm to me that a general antipathy toward collective bargaining lurks at New Seasons just as it did at Nature’s.

In all the news coverage of Brady’s nascent campaign, I have yet to see a journalist broach organized labor with her. For example, can she call herself a progressive employer when she’s talking about the largest non-union grocery chain in town? A decent reporter with any sense of labor history might at least bring this up. The natural foods industry, led nationally by Whole Foods, is making non-union inroads into the traditionally well-organized grocery industry; it is the only growth sector in the business. But lazy Portland media, led by the consistently anti-union, pro-business Oregonian, will probably just leave this angle alone, despite its pertinence to a largely working class electorate.

So: Is Eileen Brady anti-union? If not, would she and her co-owners direct New Season’s management to recognize a staff union on card check, rather than intimidating workers and forcing a divisive certification vote, as happened at Nature’s in 1997? (The certification narrowly lost after a protracted war of attrition by management.)

I was involved at the outset of this effort to organize staff at Nature’s stores starting in 1996, and faced disciplinary action and textbook anti-union tactics for my efforts. Below is my story. It ran in the Portland Alliance in July 1997. (Willamette Week also covered the campaign, but their online archives also do not go back that far.)

Oh, but wait, before we get into that! I’m so excited about Eileen’s campaign, I’m making a video about her stores! It’s not quite ready, but here’s a rough mix preview of the song I wrote for it.

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Listen to that while you read this:

How the bad seed of greed infested Natures

By Steve Pings Rawley

It was the classic “good cop/ bad cop” routine. The general manager demanded information about the union. The human resources manager assured me that it was for my own good to tell all. Having collected union authorization cards from a majority of the eligible staff at my store, I knew I had to hold my ground.

The interrogation took place in a dank storage room above the funky Corbett Nature’s and followed a meeting in which general manager Brian Rohter and human resources manager Carole Ann Rogge explained the responsibilities of supervisors during a union campaign, including a prohibition on interrogations. When I refused to give any information, I was suspended for two days and forced to seek legal counsel. In order to keep my job, I was compelled to sign a gag order and a series of restrictive agreements.

The union campaign at Nature’s began in earnest shortly after the former owners sold the company for $17.5 million in August of 1996 to Pittsburgh-based General Nutrition companies. Stan Amy (who remains president with a five-year contract) pocketed $11.5 million, and as a polite gesture (perhaps to ease his conscience) distributed $500,000 in stock to the staff.

Nature’s, with its hippie roots, makes much of its commitment to earth-friendly causes and its development of staff as “knowledge workers.” Much is said about the company’s diversity, but a quick look around the room at a quarterly management meeting shows that Nature’s is overwhelmingly white in the upper echelons. By contrast, in a crowded kitchen in the basement of the Fremont store, a mostly Mexican and Central American crew toils to produce Nature’s own line of prepared foods.

A union contract for the staff would “destroy Nature’s culture,” says Rogge (who has only been with Nature’s since September of 1995). But this fiercely defended culture seems to be nothing more than a cult of personality surrounding Stan Amy. It is a throw-back to the times when there were only two or three stores employing fewer than 100 workers.

Nature’s employs close to 600 workers at six retail locations, and is owned by a multinational, publicly-traded corporation with 2,500 retail outlets. In light of this, many workers have begun to reject this notion of culture” imposed from above.

“They’ve got enough money to buy their own culture,” said Alan Ambrocio, a pro-union truck driver for Nature’s. “As a normal working person I just want a slice of the pie.”

The slice Nature’s workers currently get is small, with most jobs starting under seven dollars an hour and topping out at $10. Family insurance is prohibitively expensive, costing hundreds of dollars a month.

“If people could realize that they create their own workplace culture, their lives would better,” said Chris Ayers, another trucker and union activist. “We are the same people we were before the campaign began. We do our jobs, we love our jobs, and we’re good at it. What we’re doing is living out our ideals, and that’s what our culture is.”

Management has decided to fight to keep its staff from organizing at any cost. To this end they have retained the law firm Bullard Korshoj Smith and Jernstedt, renowned for their union-busting savvy. In response to a flyer written and distributed by Nature’s staff last fall, Rohter fired off a memo straight from his lawyers’ play-book.

After thoroughly trashing the union, using inflated figures and misstated data, the memo wrapped up, “Nature’s is not anti-union.” While many staff members were in hysterics at the irony, others were cowed by management’s surrealistic logic: If you are pro-union, you must be anti-Nature’s.

Management has attempted to control all information regarding the union. They have reacted largely with fear and denial, successfully whipping the faithful into an anti-union lather.

Union representatives were prohibited at all Nature’s sites, then criticized for making house calls. With a dearth of accurate information about collective bargaining available to staff, the union campaign appeared to be losing steam by the end of a chilly winter.

A core group of employees kept the faith, though, and the campaign resurfaced after 10-year veteran truck driver David Chavez was denied a promotion which was given to a driver with less than two years on the job. When Chavez protested, he was offered two weeks’ pay to find another job.

A self-described “company man” who likes his job and has a family to support, Chavez weathered this slap in the face from those he once considered friends and made the decision to organize. At a May 21 quarterly management meeting, he presented general manager Rohter with a letter requesting recognition of United Food and Commercial Workers Local 555 to represent the five truck drivers at Nature’s. Management’s response was predictable.

“Not only are they fighting it, they’re spending a lot of time and money trying to stop it,” said Chavez.

Management appealed the truckers’ request for a certification election to the National Labor Relations Board on specious ground. It became clear that this was merely a stalling tactic at the NLRB appeal hearing June 9 and 10, when management attempted to make the case that Nature’s is different from traditional employers and deserves special treatment under the law.

Human resources manager Rogge testified that Nature’s is “non-hierarchical,” and that decisions are made “with staff involvement… a lot of information is shared with staff in order to make decisions.”

“Nobody asked me if we should open a new store,” said Chavez. “Nobody asked me if we should sell the company.” With the appeal “they were reaching for anything” to slow down the process, he said.

Nature’s resistance to its employees’ efforts to organize is uncannily similar to the tactics of another hippie-gone-corporate company, Borders Books. There too, management attempts to trade on its leftish roots, and claims that collective bargaining will destroy “Borders culture.” Behind the friendly face of community, however, standard tactics of intimidation and legal wrangling are exercised to keep workers down.

Like Nature’s, Borders claims to want “one-on-one dialogue” with staff members, but retains Jackson, Lewis, a law firm known for its anti-labor work. Both company’s make a lot of noise about the salaries paid to union presidents, while keeping their own management salaries under wraps. [GNC CEO William Watts pocketed a cool $1.3 million in 1995.] And in the end, both companies make huge profits on the backs of under-paid retail workers.

The significance of these campaigns is not lost on the “born-again capitalists” (Stan Amy’s self-description) who run these companies. It is ultimately about retail workers taking control of their lives and demanding some modicum of power over their jobs. Whether or not a company has a “social mission” is irrelevant if workers are not provided a living wage, family benefits, protection for seniority, and democratic control in their workplace.

“Nature’s is a multimillion dollar corporation, owned by an even larger corporation,” said Chavez. “As much as they want to hold on to that ‘culture,’ their bottom line is making money.”

The Solid Gold American Idol Celebrity Extravaganza

by Steve, May 26th, 2011

I don’t know how I got roped into watching every damn episode of American Idol this season (oh, wait, yes I do), but wife N. and tween daughter E. summed up the experience nicely as 17-year-old winner Scotty McCreery soaked up the glory.

Just as I was thinking to myself, Man, that boy is gonna get some serious play, N. pipes up, “He’s gonna get more cookie than the Keebler Elf.”

E. wasn’t quite on the same wavelength. “He’s gonna get a cookie?”

As Randy Jackson would say, “What kind of show is this?!?”

Ryan Seacrest had the best quip of the night, after a clip reel of Randy Jackson saying “in it to win it” about 100 times: “We gotta get you a new writer.”

(Okay, shit, this is going to get long winded, so if you want the quick hit, you should just watch Jim Cantiello’s American Idol in 60 Seconds. Always the most trenchant Idol commentary, even if he can’t get down wit the country.)

The whole show unfolded like a 70s-80s variety show in the massive Nokia Theatre in L.A. There were so many celebrity surprises and crazy moments, I’m just going to have to do a list.

  • The final 13 kicked things off with rendition of Lady Gaga’s Born This Way.
  • James Durbin sang with with the actual, in person Judas Priest, complete with their sole original member. And was that Rob Halford or not? I think it was, but it’s not like anybody’s giving him any props.
  • Jacob Lusk sang with Kirk Franklin and the full gospel choir. He also got the celebrity surprises started in earnest with Gladys Knight.
  • Family dog favorite Casey Abrams did a fat-boy (frat-boy?) version of Fat Bottom Girls with Jack Black. I used up most of our DVR commercial buffer fast forwarding past it in order to get the ladies back in the room. (Considering whom the producers later paired Haley Reinhart with, putting Casey with Jack Black was kind of a major dis.)
  • The girls came back out singing a Beyonce medley, topped off with an appearance by Beyonce herself. Did I mention Beyonce is friggin’ amazing?)
  • And then the Jack Black/Casey Abrams dis was complete when they trotted out none other than Tony friggin’ Bennet himself with Haley Reinhart. Take that, Casey! Burn!
  • The girls came back out to do a number with TLC, performing without the late, great Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes. An emotional moment for N., who adored Left Eye.
  • Scotty McCreery shared the stage with Tim McGraw, singing Live Like You Were Dying, one of N.’s all-time country faves.
  • Then, the musical highlight of the night. Marc Anthony with the full Latin orchestra doing Hector Lavoe’s Aguanile. I say: “A real Latin Band. That’s cool. He’s singing in Spanish. That’s cool. A woman playing timbales. That’s cool.” N. says: “Hey, isn’t that Sheila E?” Marc Anthony says: “SHEILA EEEEEEE!!!” and she friggin’ kills on a timbales solo. Then J Lo comes out, butt first. “I’d know that ass anywhere,” I say. She proceeds to friggin kill it on a butt shaking solo. I think to myself, yeah, Mark Anthony is a talented band leader and singer and all, but that’s not what makes him the luckiest SOB on the planet.
  • The boys come out with a Tom Jones medley… Can you guess who comes out to join them? Oh yeah, it’s Tom Jones, still sexy after all these years. Cut to Jack Black in the audience, looking like he’s going to throw his panties on stage.
  • Fulfilling the foreshadowing of the first number, Lady Gaga appears on a giant Star Trek rocky planet set piece. Pretty soon she takes off her overcoat. “I knew she had a leather bikini under there somewhere,” says N. “Doesn’t she always?” says E. She’s got the Solid Gaga Dancers below, and she lifts her leg up on her keyboard, showing the full ass to the camera. Then, keepin’ it even more family friendly, a boy dancer joins her on her perch and simulates hot sex before they fall together into the abyss. Randy’s down there saying “What kind of show is this?!?” I’m saying “Gaga’s in it to win it yo!”
  • Lauren Alaina belts one out with her idol Carrie Underwood.
  • Another clip reel with Casey sounding bitter. I don’t think he’s acting.
  • Beyonce comes back pleading with me to make love to her. The ladies in the room are extremely uncomfortable at this point. I’m saying, the woman’s got pipes. She can dance. She can produce. Beyonce is IN IT TO WIN IT!!!
  • Bono and The Edge perform the ultimate self-parody with Spiderman flying through the house. Edge always seems like an imposter to me. After all these years, he still doesn’t really have much in the way of guitar chops. The kid singing with them does Bono better than Bono. And he’s better looking, too, and probably doesn’t avoid paying taxes like Bono. N. says “What are they singing, anyway? ‘If you send fries to above?’” Then spidey descends for a JLo kiss, but JLo says no friggin way. I mean, WTF was that all about anyway?
  • Steven Tyler does a passable cover of Dream On. Wait, is it a cover if he was the original artist? And where the hell is Joe Perry? What is this, the Steven Tyler Band?
  • Lauren looks like she’s about to pass out right before Scotty is announced the winner. Scotty gets some girls wondering when he says of Lauren “we’ve been together for a long time and we’re going to stay together.” He goes to sing his debut single, hugging his whole family in the front row, then some random old guys with long hair — wait, was one of those guys John Voight? — but leaving Jack Black hanging, arms outstretched.

In between there are lots of clips and integrated Ford ads (“The whole thing is a Ford ad,” says E.).

At its worst, American Idol is crappy reality TV, with all the exploitation and ginned-up drama. Not that that’s not entertaining some times. One clip reel featured Idol crew sticking their cameras in the faces of crying rejects and their parents.

“You want me to kick you in your [bleepin bleep] you better get the [bleep] outta my way,” says one mom, shielding her crying kid. Then she turns to her kid: “Shut up, Maria.” Then she smacks the camera.

But ultimately it comes down to old-fashioned singing and dancing, which is what kept me coming back. A hot band and some young up-an-comers leaving it all on stage.

I told the women-folk, when we go see the Idol tour live, you can’t walk out of the room when Casey takes the stage. “Oh yes we can,” says N., who thinks she just might have to take a little stretch right about then.

Things I learned from the Billboard Music Awards

by Steve, May 23rd, 2011

  • Beyonce is friggin’ amazing. A show biz juggernaut at 29.
  • If you ain’t got much going on musically (Pitbull), hire some Vegas show girls to wiggle and strut.
  • If you got musical bona fides (Cee Lo Green), they gonna put you on a flying piano and flip you upside down while you sing a full version of an Al Green song and a truncated version of the censored version of your own smash hit. Ain’t that some shh…?
  • Brittney Spears is making a play to stay relevant, but I didn’t stay up long enough to see it. (From what I heard on the radio, she’s working hard to sound like Ke$ha.) DJ, turn it up…
  • Will.i.am thanked the thousands of software engineers and technicians who make it possible for him to perform and be a mega star. Cuz god knows the man can’t sing without auto-tune.
  • Fergie who?
  • Did I mention Beyonce is friggin’ AMAZING?

Also, did I mention my entire summer is being planned around pop culture events? Or that my tween daughter isn’t entirely comfortable with me becoming familiar with current pop music? Or that I can’t get Katy Perry’s weird Extraterrestrial out of my head? Take me, tay-tay-take me….

Enough… I gotta go listen to some vintage Nuyorican to cleanse my palate.

Bach Musette for clarinet quartet

by Steve, March 13th, 2011

E on 1st and 3rd, me on 2nd and 4th. This is our “rough take” baseline so we can see how we progress after some rehearsal. (E just started playing clarinet in September.) Please support music education for all students, taught by certified teachers as an academic subject, for credit.

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A visual ode to musical wood

by Steve, October 10th, 2010

The sympathetic vibration of wood has brought me great pleasure on this plane. Even though its first purpose is aural, there is great visual beauty in a finely purposed slab of wood. Herewith is a photo appreciation.

Do me a favor; if you’re interested in these photos, view full screen. (After you press the play button, click on the little four-arrows icon in the lower right corner.)

My pensieve

by Steve, September 15th, 2010

musicLife is funny and time is fleet of foot.

Twenty-one years ago, I moved to Oregon with a band of hippies, trying to make my living playing the bass and singing country- and reggae-hued psychedelia.

That band broke up soon after we disembarked from the ’63 Chevy Step-Van in Portland, and life took me through some twists and turns, including work in the colorful world of organic produce and stints as a band instrument repair man, sheet music sales clerk, and side man in a tex mex band.

After about eight years of mix and match, scraping the rent together somehow or another, I got engaged and decided I needed a career with a future. I retired the axe and got a cubicle job shuffling bits on computers, and dedicated myself to raising my two children. When they hit school, I got ridiculously entrenched in school politics and citizen journalism, which eventually spilled over into way too much civic involvement. I also got back into skating and started playing a lot of pickup hockey, which I likened to music in many ways.

After deciding the City of Portland and Portland Public Schools are hopelessly anti-child, we moved to the suburbs, where it was decided I should withdraw from politics and return to my music.

The funny thing about my brain is that while I present as well-adjusted, I’m a little OCD. I’ve had a couple of unfinished songs going through my mind for nearly 20 years. So even though I had veered into cumbia, salsa and Latin jazz when I dropped my musical career on its head thirteen years ago, I was unable to get back to that without first going back further and purging my mind of the country- and reggae-flavored songs from the early 90s.

I set up my studio with a Macintosh and started using it as my pensieve (for you non-Harry Potter devotees, a pensieve is a place to store memories, thus uncluttering one’s mind).

First to be extracted and stored away was “Falling off the Mountain,” a song I started writing with my friend Tony on Thanksgiving circa 1990 while hiking and camping in Oregon’s Salmon-Huckleberry Wilderness. I’m not much for lyrics, and Tony never did send me that second verse. So, as they say, “last verse, same as the first!”

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It’s like magic… that song doesn’t go through my head anymore since I’ve committed it to bits!

Next up was a little flat-picking ditty I started writing after seeing Doc Watson at the Melody Ballroom, also in 1990, I think. It was right after Totem Soul broke up after our acoustic trio (the Holistic Ramblers) had a gig from hell at Portland’s Laurelthirst Public House.

Nancy‘s always saying she likes country music “cuz the men are always sorry and the women are always leaving.” With that in mind, I wrote a second verse and pulled “The Dark Desert Sky” out of my head and deposited it in the pensieve.

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Now that those are out of my system, I want to write some stuff in this vein:

Banda Brothers (Ramon and Tony and friends) playing “Dime Caridad” (by trombonist/arranger/composer Francisco Torres) from their most excellent album Acting Up.

It’s amazing how much time I have, now that I’m not researching and writing in-depth exposes and going to school board meetings, urban planning meetings, community meetings and rallies. Now I can help my daughter discover the joy of wind instruments and ensemble playing. If you want to see me now, I’ll see you in the band room (not the board room), clarinet in hand.

Fun with machine translation

by Steve, September 10th, 2010

meWhen I wrote about Bob Dylan’s concert in Troutdale, Ore., I got an unexpected link from a Dylan fan site… Bam! Our server got the most hits in one day since the days we used to write about stupid stripedy clothes-wearing white people and their penchant for trying to start charter schools rather than send their precious spawn to school with poor, black and/or Spanish speaking kids.

Anyway, that was interesting, but also interesting was when a Japanese Dylan fan site picked up my post and excerpted it in Japanese. I don’t speak Japanese, so I’ll assume the person who translated it did a decent job, and isn’t responsible for the hilarious machine translation back to the English:

It Is not You, Babe
This man, funny shit.

Come on people rose in Mellencamp started playing. We were just like my DMZ. Mellencamp while playing, but we were sitting, but started to stand in front of you. The screaming started throwing ice cubes on your back then. hit lesbian couples wearing torn chunks of ice that had preceded. they are whining because people are standing before. I I thought it would sit for two more songs about Sume, she would not. “Hey! Wine T-shirt there! Sit!! (poweredbyfinewine of youth shirts)” … the voice of one another Gatchiritaipu man …. next thing you are, “Sit down!” he said.

Mellencamp looks at his wife “feel good” he said. Does your wife is hot Mellencamp?

I’m not a rock critic. But let me say it ?Ere “JustLikeaWoman” were floating in tears in her eyes. The encore was two songs not good, great. We drive back to Beaverton, sober and happy.