What are you doing to celebrate May Day?

[Gonzo]

The fun never ends here in New Zealand.

1st May is the start of the duck-shooting season.

Pharmacies are also permitted to sell Tamiflu over-the-counter without a prescription from 1st May until the end of August.

I don't know if the two are connected.

I knew that those kiwis wouldn't let me down.

Someone has been shot dead already, and it is only day one of the season!

http://nz.news.yahoo.com/a/-/top-sto...-start-season/ (SFW)

[AtW]

But of course I am Spartacus.

You too?

[BrowneIssue]

Its May Day today. What are you doing to celebrate?

Personally I shall be singing the Red Flag at noon.

For the benefit of our younger listeners who may have never heard the terms 'socialist', 'dockworker' (now there was a oxymoron), 'demarcation' or 'washing-up time'; nor have known a left wing Labour government; here are the words that should have sprung to mind:

The working class can kiss my arse,
I've got the foreman's job at last.
I'm out of work and on the dole,
You can stuff the red flag up your hole.
The working class can kiss my arse,
I've got the foreman's' job at last.

I cannot remember a time I did not know those words.

But whether the following verses were actually sung in accompaniment to the brass bands during a Durham Miner's Gala I cannot say:

'Twas on Gibraltar's rocks so fair,
I saw a maiden lying there.
And as she lay in sweet repose,
A puff of wind blew up her clothes.
The working class can kiss my arse,
I've got the foreman's' job at last.

A sailor who was passing by,
Tipped his hat and winked his eye.
And then he saw to his despair,
She had the red flag flying there.
The working class can kiss my arse,
I've got the foreman's' job at last.

[NickFitz]

...'dockworker' (now there was a oxymoron)...

My grandfather worked his arse off ensuring that essential supplies continued to be shipped in and out of the Liverpool dock he was responsible for during the Second World War. They didn't even knock off for air raids. He would probably have resented your implication even more than he resented the German shrapnel from the second battle of Ypres that he carried within him into the docks every day and into his grave.

[BrowneIssue]

... 'dockworker' (now there was a oxymoron)

My grandfather worked his arse off ensuring that essential supplies continued to be shipped in and out of the Liverpool dock he was responsible for during the Second World War.

Then, sadly, he was working very hard indeed 'cos he was the only one.

My father spent some of his national service driving lorries round the country. His stories of the thieving in the docks are astounding.

He was watching a ship being unloaded and was asked if he wanted an apple. He said yes so the docker slit open one of those huge canvas sacks they used to hold stuff and a mass of apples (from North America) poured out. A few were thrown about to nearby people and the rest shoved into the dock. "Accidental spillage" the docker explained.

Anything the dockers wanted they openly stole: provided the dock manager, guards, customs and coppers all got there share. He says incredible amounts of stuff was simply carried out the gate, with each layer of security or management getting their cut.

He explains how to stack a lorry load of butter that would appear to be a 3D stack on the back at all times but would only contain half as much by the time it got to the distribution centre because everyone had an agreed of quota of how much they could pinch. Sugar was the same. He reckoned about half of all the butter and sugar that arrived at the docks would go straight onto the black market, courtesy of the thieving.


Meanwhile my mother was working in a cotton mill on the other side of the Pennines where the only fresh veg or fruit you saw was what you grew for yourself. They wouldn't see dairy produce from one month to the next because it wouldn't appear in the shops to buy, ration books or no ration books.

They didn't even knock off for air raids. He would probably have resented your implication

He probably would. All the above referred to my father's experience of thieving, not indolence.

My experience was a stint at a dock in the South East. I have worked in central government and local government and I've done my time on the bench - but I have never seen so much bone-idle, indolent, insolent behaviour from so many work-shy, smug toe-rags in my life. I know that the employment practices in the docks were truly awful in the first half of the 20th century, but what the dock unions achieved in the second half was appalling too. No wonder we don't have a merchant fleet to speak of.

It was this more recent period I was referring to.

even more than he resented the German shrapnel from the second battle of Ypres that he carried within him into the docks every day and into his grave.

That wasn't me!