Scotland is famous for many things. Kilts, Nessie, and bagpipes all get their turns in the spotlight, and deserve their time.
Today, however, we’re going to talk about something Scotland really puts their mark on the world with: whiskey.
It is said that God created beer so the Irish wouldn’t take over the world. If so he created whiskey because beer wasn’t going to be enough to hold back the Scots.
Today I took a long, winding, multi-legged journey to the Isle of Islay (yes, that translates to “the island of island”) mostly in order to take a distillery tour of Laphroaig. Perhaps I should say “The Distillery Tour” or give it its formal (and deserved) name to distinguish it from all lesser tours: The Water to Whiskey Experience.
Now, Islay malts are not my preferred substyle of the Scotch Malt Whiskey family. I mostly go for Speysides and Lowlands. Laphroaig, however, is something of an exception despite or perhaps because they are often considered the most extreme of the Islay malts. Also, loyal readers may remember my discussion of the Highland Games last year, specifically the whiskey tasting I did there. That humorous and educational event was run by Laphroaig, and was the driving force behind my decision to do the tour.
First, however, I had to get to Laphroaig, which meant first getting to Islay. I could have flown. Islay has an airport, and there are regular puddle-jumper flights from Glasgow airport. However while I do not hate British airport security anywhere near as much as the TSA, I’m not fond of them either. Also there was the cost, the need to check a bag coming back just for whiskey, etc. I decided to drive and take the ferry.
In the US, we have this idea that speed limit signs should be large, explicit, and regular. The United Kingdom believes they should be small, numerical only (just “50” not “Speed Limit 50”), and that you only need one per road. Once you’re on the road they will put up a sign if the speed limit drops, but then just have a symbol-only sign that means ‘resume speed’ without telling you what speed you should resume TO. For 60 miles they will do this. Not one single sign to indicate the ‘baseline’ speed appears anywhere.
They also have this thing about narrow roads. Not only are the roads narrow, they have curbs at the edges even when there is no reason for a curb. Put a lorry and a car on a narrow road approaching each other at a combined speed of 100mph and the lack of a margin for error becomes a matter of some concern. I did not hit any other vehicles, but I did kiss the curb a few times, which really gets your heart working when you do it at 50mph.
But I will happily send US engineers over to teach them about speed limit signs and shoulders if they will send a few back here, for there is one thing they do that we really should too: when a traffic light is about to turn green, it first flashes the yellow light once. This gives the stick-shifters time to get in gear, or the driver time to put his drink down, etc.
I arrived at the ferry terminal in good time, however, and the drive was very scenic. Got some shots of sunrise over Loch Lomond, a few more of mountains, valleys, and such. I don’t think it was technically the Highlands but it certainly gave a nice feel. The Irish Sea ferries share some traits with their cousins on Puget Sound but have articulated bows and stern ramps rather than being flat double-enders like the Sound ferries. They also have nicer seating. Oddly passengers are prohibited on the car deck while the ship is at sea (again unlike the Sound ferries). The crossing was smooth and uneventful.
Islay has a total population of some 4,000 and an area of several hundred square miles. With most of the population in two towns it is unsurprising that many of the roads are single lane (not one lane each way, one lane TOTAL) or lane-and-a-half. Stone walls on either side are not uncommon. This can make three cars into a major traffic jam. I’m surprised there is enough traffic between the island and the mainland for merit multiple ferry trips per day, but there demonstrably is (full ferries or close to it both ways).
Laphroaig has a sense of humor. Detailed signs explain to the “Friends of Laphroaig” how to go claim their square foot of land – including a reminder to bring a copy of War and Peace in case cattle are crossing the road and how to signal for a tractor if they need to be winched out of the bog. Laphroaig owns quite a bit of land, including its source water – the first stop on the tour. They served us a picnic lunch (VERY tasty and filling), get us a dram of 10 year old, and let us cut it with the very water used to make it (how often do you get to do that?). Most of us also got another dram for the walk back to the road. The guide then drove us over to the peat bog where they get their peat. Each of us got to cut some peat (I do not have a future as a peat cutter), and we were rewarded with a dram of cask strength… and a bit extra. ;-) If you ever visit a peat bog, have someone a few feet away jump up and down. You will be able to feel their landing through the ground very easily.
After this we got an in-depth tour of the plant, following every step of the process. Malting floor, cooking and smoking, fermenting, etc., etc. We got to taste the ‘beer’ (fermented but not yet distilled) which was the best beer I’ve ever had, and in fact the first I’ve found superior to water. Sadly they do not sell it. We got to throw a hunk of peat on the fire to smoke the malt, and to taste the malt itself at several stages. A few more drams of whiskey were included as well.
The final stop in the tour is a selection of three casks (that day they had a 1998, a 1999, and a two-thousand-something). You taste from each cask, then get to fill a bottle from your favorite to take home. Three single cask, cask strength, aged ten years give or take to choose from – quite the party favor! I will talk more about cask strength later, but I will note that not only is the alcohol stronger, the flavor is as well. It is not overwhelming, however; it is IMO easier to pick out the subtle sub-flavors. I chose the 1999, and was quite pleased to be able to take some home. Luckily they DO sell cask strength in the US, though single cask will be hard to find at best. Speaking of exporting whiskey, did you know Sweden drinks up a huge amount of the total percentage of Scotch that is exported? This despite a population a tiny fraction the size of the US.
From Laphroaig, you can see Ireland on a clear day. Or, as in my case, a clear enough day. This makes Ireland one of the few countries I can say I’ve seen in person but not been to.
Last, but not least, Islay has a very old Celtic stone cross. Surrounded by sheep on this visit - including a ram I had something of a staring contest with.
The journey was not easy, but the tour was more than worth it.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Scotland Day 3
Britishism of the day: Lift vs. elevator
American tourist move of the day: OK, the bus is going west so I should wait on the north side of the street... or not...
Today I managed to get someone else to do the driving by taking a bus tour of Glasgow.
Glasgow is full of buses. Most are the classic double-deckers, including the tour buses which manage to stay reasonably full despite running every half hour during the day. You can hop off at any stop and get back on any later bus, which is a quite nice system. The first bus had a live guide who told amusing stories as well as giving the standard tour spiels, though sadly none of the later buses I picked were so equipped.
Among the stops I took was Glasgow Cathedral, which asks male guests to kindly remove their hats (yes, I did). Glasgow is where I first really grasped the continuity and extent of Scottish history. The place is filled with war memorials in various states of repair and grandeur. WWI and WWII are of course well represented, but so are conflicts such as the Boar War and others that one can barely make out.
As with a castle, being in a cathedral gives you a different sense than looking at a drawing. The numerous subdivisions on the main floor (including an upper area still used as a church and the inevitable gift shop) make the cathedral a different breed from a ‘normal’ church in the US or for that matter elsewhere in Scotland.
The tour also went past Provence Lordship, a medieval house now serving as a small museum which I visited a few days later.
The United Kingdom has a large population of Indians – a legacy of its days of empire. Their food has become a major staple of the local diet, and for good reason in my opinion. Today I enjoyed a very tasty curry along with fresh nan. Chips (French fries in US parlance) are good, but they do not make a meal. Curry and nan and rice do. Overall I was very pleased with the quality and variety of food available in Scotland (even the Haggis, which will be mentioned in its turn). The prices were often on the steep side once one converted to dollars (roughly $1.50 per pound at the time of this visit), but hey, splurging a bit while on vacation doesn’t hurt.
One other local phenomenon is worthy of note. Despite temperatures in the 40’s (Fahrenheit scale), quite a lot of women of all ages wander the streets wearing either short shorts or short skirts over stockings or leggings. While this is not universal, I would not expect that many short skirts on even a warm day in the US. Of course, I’m not objecting…
American tourist move of the day: OK, the bus is going west so I should wait on the north side of the street... or not...
Today I managed to get someone else to do the driving by taking a bus tour of Glasgow.
Glasgow is full of buses. Most are the classic double-deckers, including the tour buses which manage to stay reasonably full despite running every half hour during the day. You can hop off at any stop and get back on any later bus, which is a quite nice system. The first bus had a live guide who told amusing stories as well as giving the standard tour spiels, though sadly none of the later buses I picked were so equipped.
Among the stops I took was Glasgow Cathedral, which asks male guests to kindly remove their hats (yes, I did). Glasgow is where I first really grasped the continuity and extent of Scottish history. The place is filled with war memorials in various states of repair and grandeur. WWI and WWII are of course well represented, but so are conflicts such as the Boar War and others that one can barely make out.
As with a castle, being in a cathedral gives you a different sense than looking at a drawing. The numerous subdivisions on the main floor (including an upper area still used as a church and the inevitable gift shop) make the cathedral a different breed from a ‘normal’ church in the US or for that matter elsewhere in Scotland.
The tour also went past Provence Lordship, a medieval house now serving as a small museum which I visited a few days later.
The United Kingdom has a large population of Indians – a legacy of its days of empire. Their food has become a major staple of the local diet, and for good reason in my opinion. Today I enjoyed a very tasty curry along with fresh nan. Chips (French fries in US parlance) are good, but they do not make a meal. Curry and nan and rice do. Overall I was very pleased with the quality and variety of food available in Scotland (even the Haggis, which will be mentioned in its turn). The prices were often on the steep side once one converted to dollars (roughly $1.50 per pound at the time of this visit), but hey, splurging a bit while on vacation doesn’t hurt.
One other local phenomenon is worthy of note. Despite temperatures in the 40’s (Fahrenheit scale), quite a lot of women of all ages wander the streets wearing either short shorts or short skirts over stockings or leggings. While this is not universal, I would not expect that many short skirts on even a warm day in the US. Of course, I’m not objecting…
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Scotland Day 2
Britishism of the day: roundabout instead of rotary.
American tourist move of the day: None! (That I noticed.)
Today was all about Stirling Castle.
First of all, if you’ve never been in a real, mostly intact castle it is hard to describe. Sure, its on a big hill, stone walls, towers… the elements are easy to describe. But the whole of the thing is more difficult.
Perhaps it is my experience in the SCA, but looking at the thing from ground level I kept thinking “wow, I wouldn’t want to attack that without modern weapons…” which, of course, is the often-forgotten point of a castle. The castle was a deterrent in peacetime and a force multiplier (a huge one) in war. Castles were not static structures (something I knew academically before this but, again, didn’t truly grasp). Buildings and walls get knocked down, replaced, or expanded; sometimes due to violent applications of hostile force, sometimes peacefully. No one is sure when the first castle was built on the site currently occupied by Stirling – nine hundred years ago is when surviving references begin to place events there, but as they refer to things occurring in an established location all we can say for sure about the original construction is ‘before that.’ The castle overlooks a huge sweep of the valley between Glasgow and Edinburgh. The non-functional cannons in its several surviving batteries command the nearby river crossings. Several famous battles have been fought within sight of its walls and the castle itself was besieged more than once.
Most of the castle is bare stone at this point, but one building has been restored (based on forensic archeology) to its original appearance: a yellowish colored plaster smoothes out the stone, making a single bright surface quite at odds with the traditional image of a castle. Some inner areas have been restored or reconstructed also: the kitchens, the great hall, a chapel, and several rooms of the royal residence. Some of this is admitted guesswork; knowing what furniture was present in the royal rooms but not the details of its design, for example.
Stirling was home to a set of tapestries depicting the hunt of a unicorn. This is presented as being a metaphor for the search for Christ. The tapestries are currently being recreated by a team of weavers who’ve been working on them, by hand, for several years. This is an SCA Laurel-quality project on a huge scale; the dyes, the tools, and the thread are all chosen for authenticity. Some of the work is being done on-site, and gives a feel for just what went into the decorations of such a place. We're talking about man-years, not man-hours, (OK, mostly woman-hours if you prefer) as a measurement.
The castle is also home to a regimental museum for the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders. The British Regimental system is far too complicated to address here, but suffice to say that elements of the regiment fought in most of the major conflicts of the last 200 years – from the Napoleonic Wars to the ‘war on terror.’ Battle flags and regimental silver are interspersed with mementos and stories. My favorite was of three soldiers who were captured in WWII. They escaped from their POW camp and then made their way across Europe by speaking Gaelic and pretending to be Russians. They encountered a number of German translators and passed muster each time, two of them making it back to Britain.
The castle kitchens are another recreated environment, and provide both good atmosphere and details to gladden the eye of any SCAdian; recipes (both in their original form and with modern ‘translations’), details of feasts and purchases, and some exhibits showing how food was presented (at least for the head table).
Stirling begins what will soon become apparent as a trend: multiple gift shops. The castle has no less than four, one dedicated to the regimental museum. None of these are especially large and some merchandise repeats, but they do have distinctly different flavors. Speaking of flavors, Stirling Castle has its own special whiskey, a 12 year old Speyside Single Malt. This also will prove to be a trend.
“Everyone said I was daft to build a castle on top of a giant plug of volcanic rock… well, actually only the builders said that…”
American tourist move of the day: None! (That I noticed.)
Today was all about Stirling Castle.
First of all, if you’ve never been in a real, mostly intact castle it is hard to describe. Sure, its on a big hill, stone walls, towers… the elements are easy to describe. But the whole of the thing is more difficult.
Perhaps it is my experience in the SCA, but looking at the thing from ground level I kept thinking “wow, I wouldn’t want to attack that without modern weapons…” which, of course, is the often-forgotten point of a castle. The castle was a deterrent in peacetime and a force multiplier (a huge one) in war. Castles were not static structures (something I knew academically before this but, again, didn’t truly grasp). Buildings and walls get knocked down, replaced, or expanded; sometimes due to violent applications of hostile force, sometimes peacefully. No one is sure when the first castle was built on the site currently occupied by Stirling – nine hundred years ago is when surviving references begin to place events there, but as they refer to things occurring in an established location all we can say for sure about the original construction is ‘before that.’ The castle overlooks a huge sweep of the valley between Glasgow and Edinburgh. The non-functional cannons in its several surviving batteries command the nearby river crossings. Several famous battles have been fought within sight of its walls and the castle itself was besieged more than once.
Most of the castle is bare stone at this point, but one building has been restored (based on forensic archeology) to its original appearance: a yellowish colored plaster smoothes out the stone, making a single bright surface quite at odds with the traditional image of a castle. Some inner areas have been restored or reconstructed also: the kitchens, the great hall, a chapel, and several rooms of the royal residence. Some of this is admitted guesswork; knowing what furniture was present in the royal rooms but not the details of its design, for example.
Stirling was home to a set of tapestries depicting the hunt of a unicorn. This is presented as being a metaphor for the search for Christ. The tapestries are currently being recreated by a team of weavers who’ve been working on them, by hand, for several years. This is an SCA Laurel-quality project on a huge scale; the dyes, the tools, and the thread are all chosen for authenticity. Some of the work is being done on-site, and gives a feel for just what went into the decorations of such a place. We're talking about man-years, not man-hours, (OK, mostly woman-hours if you prefer) as a measurement.
The castle is also home to a regimental museum for the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders. The British Regimental system is far too complicated to address here, but suffice to say that elements of the regiment fought in most of the major conflicts of the last 200 years – from the Napoleonic Wars to the ‘war on terror.’ Battle flags and regimental silver are interspersed with mementos and stories. My favorite was of three soldiers who were captured in WWII. They escaped from their POW camp and then made their way across Europe by speaking Gaelic and pretending to be Russians. They encountered a number of German translators and passed muster each time, two of them making it back to Britain.
The castle kitchens are another recreated environment, and provide both good atmosphere and details to gladden the eye of any SCAdian; recipes (both in their original form and with modern ‘translations’), details of feasts and purchases, and some exhibits showing how food was presented (at least for the head table).
Stirling begins what will soon become apparent as a trend: multiple gift shops. The castle has no less than four, one dedicated to the regimental museum. None of these are especially large and some merchandise repeats, but they do have distinctly different flavors. Speaking of flavors, Stirling Castle has its own special whiskey, a 12 year old Speyside Single Malt. This also will prove to be a trend.
“Everyone said I was daft to build a castle on top of a giant plug of volcanic rock… well, actually only the builders said that…”
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Scotland Day 1
You are in a maze of twisty little streets, all different.
Growing up I played the original Zork. Yup, text-only, "kill thief with sword", "It is dark, you might be eaten by a Grue...". One of the challenging parts of the game was mapping the dungeon. The hardest part of mapping was the maze. Each room simply said "You are in a maze of twisty little passages, all alike." Some rooms if you went out, say, the North side you came back into the same room and it didn't even tell you that you were looping. I gave up and cheated - the game included a book of cheats, including a map of the maze. I admit it, I used the map (only of the maze, though). OTHERwise, I beat the game the hard way.
I gave up on Glasgow before I even started. I downloaded a street map to my phone that would allow me to use its GPS to track me around. One way streets in a twisted mess are bad, but surely GPS would trump it? Not so much. The Scots know that silly American tourists come over and expect to be able to navigate with their GPS systems. So they trump them - with randomly dividing streets, and a profusion of no left/right turns signs (plus the odd 'no straight'). One intersection allowed neither a right nor a left turn onto a two-way street! To keep things interesting, either some of the pedestrians are suicidal or they have very good life insurance policies. People cross streets at random and assume cars will stop for them - smack in between two crosswalks, or at one with the 'don't walk' symbol lit. Driving on the left turns out not to be a big deal. Driving at all is the big deal.
After quite a few blocked routes, the odd wrong turn, and nearly killing someone, I did make it to the Barras; a street market held in amongst some antique/curio shops. I had been hoping for more touristy products and less aimed at the locals, but did find a few interesting things. I also picked up some biscuits (semi-sweet cookies, for the uninitiated). Yum. :-)
In the afternoon I once again took steering wheel in hand and braved the maze to visit one of the few remains of the Antonine Wall - the foundations of a Roman bath that was part of the fort at Bearsden. Despite the fact that the Antonine Wall (unlike the more famous and more southerly Hadrian's Wall) was only around for a short time the Romans built typically lasting works. One can still see much of the functional structure (stone ductwork, basically) of the baths. The Romans really knew how to build.
Growing up I played the original Zork. Yup, text-only, "kill thief with sword", "It is dark, you might be eaten by a Grue...". One of the challenging parts of the game was mapping the dungeon. The hardest part of mapping was the maze. Each room simply said "You are in a maze of twisty little passages, all alike." Some rooms if you went out, say, the North side you came back into the same room and it didn't even tell you that you were looping. I gave up and cheated - the game included a book of cheats, including a map of the maze. I admit it, I used the map (only of the maze, though). OTHERwise, I beat the game the hard way.
I gave up on Glasgow before I even started. I downloaded a street map to my phone that would allow me to use its GPS to track me around. One way streets in a twisted mess are bad, but surely GPS would trump it? Not so much. The Scots know that silly American tourists come over and expect to be able to navigate with their GPS systems. So they trump them - with randomly dividing streets, and a profusion of no left/right turns signs (plus the odd 'no straight'). One intersection allowed neither a right nor a left turn onto a two-way street! To keep things interesting, either some of the pedestrians are suicidal or they have very good life insurance policies. People cross streets at random and assume cars will stop for them - smack in between two crosswalks, or at one with the 'don't walk' symbol lit. Driving on the left turns out not to be a big deal. Driving at all is the big deal.
After quite a few blocked routes, the odd wrong turn, and nearly killing someone, I did make it to the Barras; a street market held in amongst some antique/curio shops. I had been hoping for more touristy products and less aimed at the locals, but did find a few interesting things. I also picked up some biscuits (semi-sweet cookies, for the uninitiated). Yum. :-)
In the afternoon I once again took steering wheel in hand and braved the maze to visit one of the few remains of the Antonine Wall - the foundations of a Roman bath that was part of the fort at Bearsden. Despite the fact that the Antonine Wall (unlike the more famous and more southerly Hadrian's Wall) was only around for a short time the Romans built typically lasting works. One can still see much of the functional structure (stone ductwork, basically) of the baths. The Romans really knew how to build.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Scotland, Day 0
So, I just returned from a week and a half in Scotland. This was my first international trip (barring visits to Canada) since high school, and of course since 9/11 made all air travel more complicated.
In short, it was a blast. I long... there will be a bunch of posts forthcoming. :-)
Anyway, Scotland Day 0:
Unintentional Britishism of the day: 'join the queue' instead of 'line up.'
American Tourist (tm) move of the day: pushing "1" in the elevator and expecting to go to the ground floor.
The outbound flight was somewhat problematic - the plane was delayed six hours due to mechanical problems in Britain. British Airways did give us each a $19 (why $19 instead of a nice round $20?) coupon for airport food. Once we got on board things were nicer. The first leg was direct to Heathrow (London's primary airport) on a 747-400. In seat In Flight Entertainment included a selection of free movies (watched "Up" for the first time) and a 'where am I' flight tracking program that first thought we were going to Iceland then, about the time we went feet-dry over Scotland, thought we were going back to Seattle. Still, the food was tasty (dinner and breakfast) and BA includes liquor without additional charge. US airlines, please take note - OK, not of the delay, but of everything else.
Heathrow is a warren reminiscent of a RoboRalley mapboard. Just figuring out the right line to get in was more than mildly challenging at times.
British Customs wasn't satisfied to know that I was an engineer. They wanted to know what kind of engineer I was.
Through customs, I had to go through security again before getting on the hop to Glasgow. Perhaps I should have parachuted out when we flew over on the way to Heathrow. I can't really fault the Brits for putting people through security again; I don't trust the TSA to screen adequately, why should they?
Arrived at the hotel safely, and found a wrinkle I'd never encountered before. You have to insert your keycard into a card reader next to the main light switch and leave it there in order to operate anything requiring electrons in the room. I expect, given the general trend of other equipment in the room, this is intended as a power-saving measure since it means you WILL turn out the lights and such when you leave the room.
In short, it was a blast. I long... there will be a bunch of posts forthcoming. :-)
Anyway, Scotland Day 0:
Unintentional Britishism of the day: 'join the queue' instead of 'line up.'
American Tourist (tm) move of the day: pushing "1" in the elevator and expecting to go to the ground floor.
The outbound flight was somewhat problematic - the plane was delayed six hours due to mechanical problems in Britain. British Airways did give us each a $19 (why $19 instead of a nice round $20?) coupon for airport food. Once we got on board things were nicer. The first leg was direct to Heathrow (London's primary airport) on a 747-400. In seat In Flight Entertainment included a selection of free movies (watched "Up" for the first time) and a 'where am I' flight tracking program that first thought we were going to Iceland then, about the time we went feet-dry over Scotland, thought we were going back to Seattle. Still, the food was tasty (dinner and breakfast) and BA includes liquor without additional charge. US airlines, please take note - OK, not of the delay, but of everything else.
Heathrow is a warren reminiscent of a RoboRalley mapboard. Just figuring out the right line to get in was more than mildly challenging at times.
British Customs wasn't satisfied to know that I was an engineer. They wanted to know what kind of engineer I was.
Through customs, I had to go through security again before getting on the hop to Glasgow. Perhaps I should have parachuted out when we flew over on the way to Heathrow. I can't really fault the Brits for putting people through security again; I don't trust the TSA to screen adequately, why should they?
Arrived at the hotel safely, and found a wrinkle I'd never encountered before. You have to insert your keycard into a card reader next to the main light switch and leave it there in order to operate anything requiring electrons in the room. I expect, given the general trend of other equipment in the room, this is intended as a power-saving measure since it means you WILL turn out the lights and such when you leave the room.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
My First Step into Politics?
OK, probably not, but still…
Volunteering to be a picket captain for a strike that didn’t happen apparently got me on SPEEA’s list of People Who Do Things. One of the Things we do when we’re not planning for a strike is have Council Representatives who represent specific districts (geographical concentrations of SPEEA members).
Council Rep is an unpaid position, and has almost no power. It somewhat unsurprising, then, that the union has trouble filling the slots. The Everett region has 29 districts with one to six representatives each (total of 59) for which we had 61 candidates. However, candidates must represent their own district. Eight of those districts don’t have enough candidates this year (four, including one with two seats, have none) and ten have more candidates than seats, the latter triggering an election. I’m in one of the remaining eleven districts that managed to have exactly as many candidates as seats, which means we (and the folks from the under-represented districts) will automatically get seated.
Now we get to the tiny shred of politics. I didn’t just throw my name in the hat on my own. One of the union staff called me and asked me to (see above note about People Who Do Things). In order to transform myself from ‘interested’ to ‘candidate’ I had to collect the signatures of 15 of my fellow engineers endorsing me for the position – or, since they wouldn’t be bound to support me if we actually had an election, endorsing me over an empty seat.
I collected 18 (the form had spaces for 18 in case some non-union engineer sneaks in by mistake). Yes, I physically walked up to 18 people (more than that, actually, I asked a few people who were Techs, and thus not eligible to sign due to arcane union rules) and asked them to sign something supporting me, personally. I wrote up a brief (84 words) statement about myself in case the race was contested.
And I did it in four hours, in between other tasks at work.
I’m sure it isn’t the shortest campaign in history but it was, in fact, a campaign.
Sure, I’ve been elected before. I held offices in APhiO and KGB in college, for example. However I never, that I remember, actually spent time trying to drum up support, no matter how fleeting. Candidate statements, if any, were brief and usually verbal-only during whatever meeting the elections were held at. Further, the offices were secondary positions. Secretary, Sergeant At Arms, Historian, and so on, rather than President, Treasurer, or some such. Staff officers, in military terms, rather than command positions. Well, one exception; I was the Chapter representative for an APhiO National Convention.
Council Rep is a very junior post too, but it is a command slot.
This position also has one other difference from any elected position I’ve had to date. It is a consciously chosen stepping stone to something larger – in this case, eventual participation in contract negotiations between SPEEA and Boeing.
OK, I only beat an empty seat. Still… everyone has to start somewhere.
Volunteering to be a picket captain for a strike that didn’t happen apparently got me on SPEEA’s list of People Who Do Things. One of the Things we do when we’re not planning for a strike is have Council Representatives who represent specific districts (geographical concentrations of SPEEA members).
Council Rep is an unpaid position, and has almost no power. It somewhat unsurprising, then, that the union has trouble filling the slots. The Everett region has 29 districts with one to six representatives each (total of 59) for which we had 61 candidates. However, candidates must represent their own district. Eight of those districts don’t have enough candidates this year (four, including one with two seats, have none) and ten have more candidates than seats, the latter triggering an election. I’m in one of the remaining eleven districts that managed to have exactly as many candidates as seats, which means we (and the folks from the under-represented districts) will automatically get seated.
Now we get to the tiny shred of politics. I didn’t just throw my name in the hat on my own. One of the union staff called me and asked me to (see above note about People Who Do Things). In order to transform myself from ‘interested’ to ‘candidate’ I had to collect the signatures of 15 of my fellow engineers endorsing me for the position – or, since they wouldn’t be bound to support me if we actually had an election, endorsing me over an empty seat.
I collected 18 (the form had spaces for 18 in case some non-union engineer sneaks in by mistake). Yes, I physically walked up to 18 people (more than that, actually, I asked a few people who were Techs, and thus not eligible to sign due to arcane union rules) and asked them to sign something supporting me, personally. I wrote up a brief (84 words) statement about myself in case the race was contested.
And I did it in four hours, in between other tasks at work.
I’m sure it isn’t the shortest campaign in history but it was, in fact, a campaign.
Sure, I’ve been elected before. I held offices in APhiO and KGB in college, for example. However I never, that I remember, actually spent time trying to drum up support, no matter how fleeting. Candidate statements, if any, were brief and usually verbal-only during whatever meeting the elections were held at. Further, the offices were secondary positions. Secretary, Sergeant At Arms, Historian, and so on, rather than President, Treasurer, or some such. Staff officers, in military terms, rather than command positions. Well, one exception; I was the Chapter representative for an APhiO National Convention.
Council Rep is a very junior post too, but it is a command slot.
This position also has one other difference from any elected position I’ve had to date. It is a consciously chosen stepping stone to something larger – in this case, eventual participation in contract negotiations between SPEEA and Boeing.
OK, I only beat an empty seat. Still… everyone has to start somewhere.
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