October 8, 2013--Stagehands

"It's not that I'm antiunion," Stan said, which surprised me. He tends to take conservative positions on most issues of public policy.

"But from what I'm hearing about your stagehands, I'm not so sure."

"My stagehands?" I looked at him quizzically, "I'm a bit confused. I don't have any." We were sitting together in a booth at the Bristol Diner, with the sun streaming in, whiling away the morning.

"Well, you are New Yorkers, aren't you?"

"Still, I'm not following you." At times Stan tends to speak elliptically. Or playfully when tweaking us about being from the Big City. "Stagehands?"

"Don't you read your own paper? The one you're always writing about?"

"The Times? The New York Times?"

"There was something there, I think on the front page, about how they were on strike."

"I've been busy and somehow must have missed that."

"Not for more money but because they were insisting that Carnegie Hall hire more stagehands to work for the new education program they're planning to launch."

"What does the work entail? Traditional stagehand work? Moving props and scenery?"

"I don't think so. The Carnegie Hall people say it's mainly moving chairs and other lightweight chores. And so they want to hire people who will work for less money than the stagehand's union requires."

"What kind of money are we talking about?"

"I think that's why the dispute wound up on the front page."

"So, how much? As I said, this is the first I'm hearing about it."

"I'm glad you're sitting," Stan said with a broad grin. He leaned across the table to make sure I couldn't avoid making eye contact.

"On average, $400,000 a year in salary and benefits."

"What?" I was incredulous.

"You heard me--400 grand. More than most Carnegie executives make and a lot more that any of the musicians in the orchestra."

"I can't believe this is true. I know they have a strong union and at times have gone on strike and shut down Broadway theaters. And I know they make a lot and . . ."

"Here's how I think it works," Stan said, cutting me off and getting out his pen, using his napkin for scratch paper. "They get whatever their base is. For working 9 to 5 Mondays through Fridays. Like the rest of us. But since everything at Carnegie Hall is at night or on weekends they get paid for that at double or triple overtime."

"So you're thinking that even though there's not much to do weekdays during the day, still they come to work then and wait for after hours for the actual work to kick in and at those times they make a lot more than they do for the first 35 hours?"

"It's gotta be. Otherwise how does it add up to $400,000 a year?"

"And there's probably no way for Carnegie Hall to change the deal. Or on Broadway, for that matter, where it must be pretty much the same situation."

"I don't know about that," Stan said, "But about Carnegie Hall I only know what I read in the paper."

"You mean my Times?" I winked. "I didn't know you read that."

"My son-in-law, who knows my views, showed it to me on-line. Probably to make me crazy."

"So," I couldn't resist poking at him, "If it was up to you, you'd let them stay on strike while not just resisting hiring more $400,000-a-year men for the new program but also demand all sorts of givebacks from the current stagehands? To bring their compensation into line with management and, more important, the musicians?"

He smiled back at me in answer.

"They'd probably stay on strike forever," I said, "if the Carnegie board insisted on that. But I take your point about union overreach. I'm pretty liberal . . ."

"Don't I know it," Stan said. This time he did the winking.

". . . but this doesn't do the union movement any good."

"You're right about that," Stan said. But then, as he occasionally does, he surprised me, "Look, there are only four or five stagehands at Carnegie Hall and this is not a typical union situation. In fact aren't you surprised that your leftwing paper made such a big issue out of it? About four or five people making a ridiculous amount of money?"

"Good point," I said.

"This will be all over talk radio tonight. Another thing to make people feel they're being taken advantage of and that everything's unfair. There are many unfair things," Stan continued, "But not everything is unfair. It doesn't help to simplify things this way. If we want to dig out of the mess we're in we need to be smart. And blowing this all out of proportion makes us stupid."

I nodded. "What's more, it distracts us from looking at what's really unfair. I know we'll disagree about most of that but at least we'll be talking about the real problems. Not sideshows."

"That's why I love you Stan. So much so that I'm paying for your coffee."

"For today or the whole week?"