NO POINTERS

Many years ago I worked for ICI, a chemical company that no longer exists, as a fitter. Someone you might describe as a mechanical engineer. The place where we took our breaks was known as the Baggin'  Room. Baggin being a dialect word for the food you brought to work to eat.

BREAK TIME IN THE BAGGIN ROOM

In the 1970s, the K-unit Maintenance Baggin’ Room,

at Castner-Kelner Chemical Works,

was not conducive to the discussion of great literature.

We were employed to fix broken machinery,

not to broaden our intellectual horizons,

so there were no pointers to those volumes

that could have enabled us to understand

why we had been educated to a certain point

then handed overalls and told to get on with it.

We drank tea on our breaks

and talked of nothing in particular.

I left and got myself an broader education and many more different jobs. I have always felt that there was so much more potential amongst those people than was ever fulfilled. Our life choices are determined by the accident of our birth. People deserve better.  

Here's Burning Spear and The Man In The Hills.

Until next time.