The Great (i.e., horrible) Fast Food Protest

 

 

So today workers around the country at various fast food places including McDonald's, Wendy's, and KFC are going on a strike as an effort to unionize and get wages to go from $7.25/hour to $15/hour. I'm sorry, but if you don't like the job, tell your boss to shove it. Find something better. If you proved successful in your role at that KFC, then take whatever work ethic you achieved with you elsewhere. 

I faced potential unemployment earlier this year. It is a scary proposition to be facing. But, I was willing to lower my standards to maintain financial responsibility for myself and my family. It all worked out for me, but now I make a good living (for a clean company, might I add), yet I have a burden of a drive to get there everyday. Yet, if either my significant other or I were to lose employment, we would be okay. 

Enough of my bragging. I have read three pieces so far about individuals who are struggling. One guy has gone from $8 to $8.15/hour in a nine year span. I'm sorry, that's got to be a shitty feeling, but maybe it is him that's the problem. Maybe he works for a greedy company. Maybe he only proved he was worth $.15 more an hour. Another a woman 24 years of age with three kids upset she has to work her hours at night and that she struggles to support her family. I don't readily know her story, but 3 kids by 24 years old smells like she made some mistakes. I'm sure she loves her kids and all, but seriously that is not your employer's problem. That is not the corporations' fault. Yes they do most likely make profits in the numbers we cannot imagine, but just because you allowed yourself a certain path in life doesn't mean you are allowed to protest for no good reason. 

I admit, I do not do much research in these types of posts I write. I go off my gut reaction. I get protesting for better working conditions, but that is not the topic at hand. Real quick point from the article about the poor guy at Burger King who got a fifteen cent raise - a quarter of workers in the US make $11/hour or less. But at least you are working. Minimum wage is being pushed to go from $7.25/hour to $9. Seems fair. That's MINIMUM wage. And people are willing to accept illegal immigrants working jobs that "nobody else wants." Buck up. If you have to mow lawns every day, mow the goddamn lawn. But to ask for an over one hundred percent pay raise is ridiculous. 

My heart doesn't bleed for the corporations. But I am a reasonable man. The quality of their product is questionable anyways, and the quality of the people working at a fast food place may be questionable at best as well. I am trying very hard not to put down the people who work there. But you shouldn't try to make a career out of being the guy who takes the pickles off my cheeseburger. 

Sure there are probably some great success stories from these workers. But those people probably spent a lot of their time breaking their ass to do so. When I wasn't getting paid well at my last job, I destroyed it for a year. I calculated that I had earned enough EXTRA money for my company to hire another me and maintain profit. I demanded a raise. I didn't get it. But I did earn some opportunities from my work ethic that 2 years later got me to where I am today. My old company was making money hand over fist, and now we know through dubious means, and I couldn't get them to budge. The only raise I got was less than $1000 over a four year span, and I was a major contributor to my group. If I walked out of my job in protest in an effort to make double my pay, I would've been replaced with a person who could provide a certain percentage of my production at a much smaller percentage of my salary. 

I understand some situations are tough. My girlfriend was a single mom for years before me. She worked her ass off when she had free time and now we are doing well, and she only needs herself to get by. And always has been that way. People can make it better for themselves if they try, not demand it. 

Again, no real facts here, just my initial thoughts. Now, if you told me there was racial motives by the corporations or squalid working conditions then I get the argument. Go back to work and earn some more for your family of 4. 

BACH - Big Ass Chewbacca Honkey

Well folks, it has been way, way too long since I last highlighted one of the amazing people I am fortunate to have in my life. That man is the one, the only, the gigantic, Mathew "Bach, Chewy, Chewbacca, Hoven" BacHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVen.

That wet, dapper fellow you see above is the one and only. He is kneeling in a 4 feet deep above ground pool. I chose to lead this post off with this picture of Bach, as I tie everything full circle here with how I met him.

Very tough to recall the year, but I assume either 1997 or 1998. I was driving then, and it was still prior to the summer months or late autumn. It was like any other night at Vito's house - chaotic debauchery with everybody around me drinking their faces off while I soberly livened up the party. There was a newcomer amongst us. Bach apparently was a new member of our crew of friends, which I hung out with maybe every other weekend after spending time with my girlfriend (Duba's Old Girl - DOG). Legend has it, some folks at Palmyra had a beef with some people in Cinnaminson, and Tim Beitz's house was near the town borders'. I guess one day Bach showed up with some other guy (Steve perhaps?) who was Austin's cousin, and me Tim and Austin have known each other since we were 4-5 years old. Bach I think took a liking to Tim like the Skipper took to Gilligan. Only instead of hitting Gilligan with his boater's hat, Bach would windmill hammer his meaty fist onto the head of his little buddy.

Fast forward now to Vito's house. I think all I could focus on was how massive this guy was. Anybody whose shadow covers both me and my own shadow is certainly of an impressive stature. I can't imagine why, but apparently I set him off with some joke or insult that made everybody, and I mean EVERYBODY in the house laugh at his expense. Bach went from chalk-white to filled-maxi-pad red in one second flat. The chase was on. I think Bach even said something like, "I'm giving you exactly 5 seconds to get ahead of me." I kind of took it seriously, repeating the joke as I inched closer to the back door. I had the handle in my hand as he counted down to 1, and then made that time-has-expired "eeeeeennnnnnnhhhhhhh" sound. I launched myself out the door, slamming it shut as I ran around Vito's covered inground pool. I figured I could make the big lummex run around the pool in a circle till he passed out. So confident in this plan was I that I began taunting him again. Then, the unthinkable. In gazelle like fashion, the White Wall started running towards the pool. He used the cover as a mini-trampoline, and his steps were fast versions of mankind's first steps on the moon. Three steps later he was in my face before turning me upside down. I think I tried a double leg take down on him, and the match was on. I just stood my ground. We quit grappling after several sweaty seconds, probably because I was laughing like a hyena, which in turn made this giant jolly. I'd say we have been dependable friends ever since.

I would go on to the Coast Guard Academy the following year while he was already attending Monmouth University. I believe he earned a B.S. in Growing, with a minor in Expanding. I left the Guard and returned home, where Bach would make frequent trips back if there wasn't a fraternity function. I got to know him much better. In fact, that summer (1999), needing to pay my way through college, Bach hooked Brandon and I up with a job at Siemen's. After we were done chuckling at the name, we agreed to work there. Bach was the jack of all trades while Brandon and I mostly handled receiving and stocking at the warehouse. Bach drove us every day to and fro. He had a car previously owned by a clown that would house Bach himself, maybe 250 pound Brandon, and a burgeoning Duba (175). Humps in the road were not our friends, but Bach would blast either the AC/DC live album, specifically Thunder Struck and Money Talks, or the John Cougar Mellencamp CD. I think at one point after work, during the Landispalooza festival, he had vodka in a Gatorade bottle in his car. And it was warm. And he consumed it.

Bach taught me how to drive a forklift and not kill anybody with it. There was often quite a bit of downtime, and the three of us would play basketball. Clearly the LeBach James had the advantage, by about one foot. One time, on a really, REALLY slow day, perhaps when power even went out. Brandon and I had concocted a master plan. I would go and distract Bach with normal chit chat. Meanwhile, Brandon had constructed a javelin type appurtenance with packing tape and cardboard rolls. He then applied duct tape on several portions of his body. I had Bach in a deep conversation, his eyes affixed on me, and his body turned from the stacks of pallets. I saw Brandon lurking, hunting Bach like a stupid cheetah would hunt a much bigger elephant in the African Savannah. Brandon popped out of the boxes, chanting something. Bach, I swear on my balls, jumped and bailed out. I would say he had legitimate fright for about 1 second until he started busting out laughing. Bach always had a great, hearty laugh. When he's cracking up, odds are everybody else is, too.

That summer, Bach also declared that the song "Name" by Goo Goo Dolls was a "pussy-gettin' song."

Did he mean "purse-stealin' song?" I don't know. I don't know what the lady did to him to deserve having her purse stolen. Odds are she is probably behind him, but you won't ever see her. No other documentation of any untoward behavior has been reported for Bach.

One night in the past year or two at Brandon/Mandi's house, we had a trivial pursuit challenge. Bach and Landis I think were a team. Imagine Thomas Edison and Godzilla merged into one fully functional, exponentially smart unit. That's what they were. I think they won in like 20 minutes. Bach is severely smart. I know that. And I would always trust his knowledge.

I think that summer of 1999 really is what made my relationship with Bach last this long. A lot of people turned 21 that year, specifically our friends from Delran. And Randy. But I think Randy was 21 when we graduated. Anywho, if it was either a birthday or a graduation, Bach was always encouraging me to provide the same gift to these new set of friends. That's right, I had a dead squirrel that was sitting in Ed/Larry's Chocolate house apartment that I put in a shoebox and taped shut. I wrote whoever's name on it. I think the first to get it was Dejo. Then Lipski or Dixon. After that it is hard to recall where the corpse went next.

Bach once warned my ex-wife that if she kept spitting water at him, then he was going to spit in her face. Bach spit in her face.

I believe it was either in 2000 or 2001 when Bach graduated from Monmouth. Certainly an awesome day as one of my closer friends was graduated. He maintained his friendships at school and at home, while partying it up and devouring knowledge. This is where the regality of this accomplishment stops. Bach's graduation party was rapidly approaching in those early summer/late spring months. Brandon and I had no clue what to get the man, so we decided every man loves adult films. We were off to Video Express in Burlington and Brandon proceeded to get the funny named movies for our friend. Then one of us suggested how funny it would be to have an 18 inch double-sided black dildo in his gift box. So there we were, two idiots laughing at this thought. Then it was two idiots laughing at the checkout counter as Brandon slammed the dildo down. The cashier looked at us weird and I preemptively said, "It's not what you think. See, our buddy just graduated." Sure enough, we were now on our way to the party. However we had no box. We Brandon wanted to go back to his old job and Branchbrook for the appropriate sized box. But that wouldn't be enough. We wanted something more. How about a 16-inch sandwhich roll? Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a 16-inch sandwhich roll in Cinnaminson? That's some tough sledding boy. We finally had everything we needed. We placed the toy in the roll, then placed his other gifts in the box. The box was taped shut. I proceeded to mark everywhere there was open space "Bach's Box." We were probably almost 2 hours late to the party. We got there and it was a festive time. We gave Bach the gift box and we were smirking, and he had no clue what to expect. Once we saw how many family members were there, we advised him to open it indoors.  Sure enough, the time came. Brandon badgered him enough. Bach assembles our friends up into his room. I'm surprised the house didn't collapse or tip over with the mass of humanity up there. He opened it up and lost his shit. He was weak with laughter. If I had a slingshot, surely I could have fell the giant. Bach had to visually and mentally (and not figuratively) take it all in. We put an 18 inch veiny dildo in a sandwhich roll for his graduation gift. Brandon quickly grabs the toy at the middle and proceeds to helicopter it around at a rapid pace. This is pretty much the end of the story, but legend has it as the night went on, Bach's grandfather was constantly inquiring about the gift.

 

 

Speaking of Bach's other family members, look at his TALLER brother. Notice you see no other heads in this picture. When we first went over to Bach's house for a little get together whilst his parents were out of town, we came across a picture of Bach. It looked like Bach was standing next to a mirror. It dawned on us that we were looking at his brother. I think it was me, but perhaps Brandon would say it was he, who said "If this is Bach, does that make this guy 'Dach'?" I think at that time I didn't even know that Bach was short for BacHOOOOOOOOOOOOven. Flash forward several years. I was trying to meet up with my friends who I lost touch with for several years. I go to the 45th Street Pub and sit next to Bach. I commented on how nice Bach looked and he must be doing very well. Bach turned to me and said "Well, that's because I'm his more handsome, smarter brother, Dach." I was shocked. I have dolled out nicknames to several people in my life, but never has anybody ever accepted them, let alone known they had one.

 

When Bach plays Guitar Hero, his upper body is so elongated that he can comfortably sit down while playing the game. He also looks like a T-Rex holding a toothpick.

 

I make a lot of references to Bach's size, but how can I not. I look up to most people. I climb a ladder to look at Bach.

 

 

I think this picture may have been from Big Jim's bachelor party. I don't remember much of that event, but I do remember when the hippies went to play Ultimate Frisbee Golf or whatever they do in the trees, Brandon Bach and I sat around in the bed of his truck drinking. What I will always remember from this day, and I USED to have a video of it, was Brandon running from like 15 feet away and diving into the bed of the truck. Bach was laughing his ass off as Brandon's movement stopped the second he hit the bed.

 

While my friends may know me as the queen of Halloween, Bach is certainly the king. He hand crafted his costumes in the three years I have been attending the now annual Brandon-Mandi party. I think perhaps the first year he was a jail bird? I don't remember. He blew me away with his giant Hitler costume. I hope Germany doesn't read this post, as they will see their brethren of the BacHOOOOOOOOOven clan has committed a German felony. Last year, he found a bunch of old clothes and made himself into an Oompa-Loompa. It was hilarious. And then, for the White Swan to converse about serious topics with a near 7 foot Oompa-Loompa, well, people would laugh at just the sheer ridiculousness of it. No, that's not me in the picture above. That's Matt Barrett. Go away, Matt Barrett.

 

 



This is casual Bach. My favorite all time Bach moment will have to be from the summer of 2000. Bach, Brandon, Big Jim and I went on a road trip to the Big Kahuna in Delaware. Big Jim's brother, Timmer, said he had four free tickets to the show his boss couldn't go to. Nope. We had to pay for them, and all our funds took a dive. We went in there, broke, but Bach spotted us some money. He provided beers for us as he was of the legal age. We were definitely very early, but Laid Law was set to open for Lynyrd Skynyrd. But then the rain came. It poured. It must have poured for one hour, then after 15 minutes of non-rain, the roadies would come out and start to set it back up for the band. But this cycle repeated several more times. Eventually Laid Law called off their set, so that Skynyrd would rule the stage. Skynyrd didn't come on until maybe midnight or 1 a.m. They played a fantastic show that is unmatched to this day. HOWEVER, the events during and before this showing are stuff of legend. First, with the rain and drunk southern rock fans who litter, the drains started to clog. Water was pooling up. Eventually, the water was entering our shoes or sandals. At some points, it was near knee high in some locations. People started saying to themselves, "Screw it...I'm just going to piss right here." Yeah. It was rapidly deteriorating. Sure enough, Bach saddled up next to a girl or woman, depending who you ask. Reports have varied that her age was sub-21 years of age to 54 years of age. Either way, Brandon would constantly look over at Bach grooving with the lass, occasionally making out to Brandon's cheers. At one point, Bach pushed her away mid-make out then pulled her back in. I will not specify exactly why this happened, but I do know that a certain amount of relief was acquired in the process.

I wish I could fully elaborate even more on this story, but for the future of Bach spawning, I don't think it is a good idea.


Bach, Tim and I one time ordered over 100 wings at Hooters. I think we ate them all equally.  I have eaten entire pizzas with Bach. Not like we ordered a pizza and split it. Like together we have consumed three pizzas at a time. I have never out drank Bach, but I do know that to do so would require me to die.


Bach, you have been there for me regardless of where I have ever been and for how long. Every year, we enjoy a Volbeat concert and now perhaps a new annual tradition in the Gigantour. Bach is one of the few people in my life whose presence I actually cherish. He is great to help you get through a crowd. He is great if you want an evening of not being messed with by hardass, averaged heighted individuals. He is great to have around on a sunny day. Bach, you sir - a dance machine, no head turning, giant striding mother f-er - you are the man.