To stay on the topic (for a change), I also worked at the ATO for twenty years and would still be there now if I hadn’t been invalided out at the age of 54. The only reason I went in there, was because there were no jobs going around in 1983, so I took the Public Service Exam. I wanted to get into exciting areas like Foreign Affairs (sounds good anyway) or Defence (probably not so good) but the ATO wanted me more or probably less, but they got me anyway.
I really needed the brass so I joined, if a trifle unwillingly. After my first day I knew that this was not the job of my dreams, more like nightmares. My first couple of weeks were spent in a converted wool store (honestly!) I can’t remember what, if anything, I was supposed to do there. After that I was moved to ‘Lodgment Enforcement’ with another two new recruits.
Apart from the three of us there were four of the biggest deadheads ever to inhabit the ATO (and that is no mean accomplishment). The desks were arranged in a circle around a large pot plant, in the centre of which was an even larger hand written sign, proudly proclaiming ‘THE VEGGIE PATCH’ (this is no bullshit).
Of the four, one used to get to work at 9:30 and immediately go to sleep for his fifteen-minute tea break. He was right handed but kept his pen in his left hand and his feet in the desk drawer and with his face away from the supervisor, slept until lunchtime. Another one once walked out of the office and banged his head in the side mirror of a parked truck, drawing blood. He raced back up the stairs (which in itself was a first) and placed his head on the photocopier and took a copy for evidence in his workers comp claim. One of the others pushed his luck a little too far and ended up getting fired for rap dancing on his desk.
This unholy crew was ‘supervised’ by a young woman, who was semi-permanently on stress leave or on the phone or both. After a couple of weeks of this, the manager asked if anyone in the section wanted a move, me and my two relatively normal co-workers were the first in the queue after sending desks, chairs and pot plants flying.
I could go into this further, but the memories are still too close for comfort, so I shall cease and desist for another decade or two.
Cheers for now,
SkyBlueSkull.
http://keith-skellern.blogspot.com
Showing posts with label Public Servants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Public Servants. Show all posts
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Work and Public Servants (aka pubic serpents)
Contrary to popular belief, this is not an oxymoron; it is in fact a double oxymoron. Having been one myself for twenty years, I can say as an ex-insider that they perform quite extraordinary feats in the avoidance of that four-letter word beginning with a w and ending with a k. No! Dear reader, I am not referring to self-gratification. Well I suppose I am, but not of the onanistic variety so reviled by the Catholic Church, what we are considering here is WORK.
The other part of that oxymoron is Public and Servant. If you have ever had the misfortune to deal with one (and let’s say here, that they are so all pervasive, you can’t escape the bastards). You are, presumably, a member of the Public, some synonyms for which are civil, urban and society, whereas others are vulgar, common and hangers-on. A servant can be an attendant or alternatively a footman or a famulus. Put yourself in their position and ask the question “Would you rather be an attendant to a civil society, or put your famulistic boot (foot) into a common, vulgar, hanger-on?
What brought this on, was that the GLW (Good Lady Wife), gave me some rather startling news yesterday. Apparently a son of one of her friends has gone to work at my old workplace, the Australian Tax Office (ATO) at the tender age of 20. If little Johnny and his treasurer Peter Coster-Living have their way and their successors follow suit, this means that the poor sod will still be there in 60 years time i.e. 2067.
The reasoning behind this thinking, is that when the Old Age Pension (OAP) was introduced early last century, the average life expectancy for males was 61years. Barton or Skullin (no relation) or whomsoever, decided that the toilers should not only be given an eight-hour day (provided they worked longer than that). But should also be allowed to retire at 65 and the government would generously provide them with a pittance, to eke out on essentials over their last few miserable years. Secretly hoping, meanwhile, that the vast majority would croak it before then.
Of course the untrustworthy, hoi polloi bastards decided to live longer and the average life expectancy is now 82 and rising, before long the ungrateful dastardly swine will be living as long as Her Majesty and her kith and kin. The buggers will be retiring at 65 and living for another 50 years. What worries Little J and Peter is the ‘Economy’, at that rate you’ll have tens of millions of geriatrics collecting the Old Age Pension (OAP) and clogging up the hospital system. Who will be providing the taxes and hence the wherewithal to pay for this, your kids that’s who!
The obvious answer to this is to raise the age of retirement to 80 right? That’ll fix the sneaky sods and keep them toiling for another 15 years, which will have two benefits. More of them will be dropping off while toiling and will be paying taxes for another 15 years and the rest of them will be so shagged out they won’t be able to make it to the phone, let alone hospital. Brilliant! Why didn’t we think of it years ago? Because it would have affected us baby boomers you brainless berk.
The Pollies have already covered their sweet smelling, little buttocks by creating a ‘Futures Fund’, this cunning little ploy has been instituted, so every Pollie gets $1,000,000 for every year served in Parliament with an upper limit of $1 billion for ministers, prime and otherwise. The hoi polloi are also required to pay for their own pensions by secreting 10% of their wages in Super Funds. So my GLW’s mate’s son gets to work in the ATO until he’s 80. Serves him right I say!
Cheers for now,
SkyBlueSkull
http://keith-skellern.blogspot.com
The other part of that oxymoron is Public and Servant. If you have ever had the misfortune to deal with one (and let’s say here, that they are so all pervasive, you can’t escape the bastards). You are, presumably, a member of the Public, some synonyms for which are civil, urban and society, whereas others are vulgar, common and hangers-on. A servant can be an attendant or alternatively a footman or a famulus. Put yourself in their position and ask the question “Would you rather be an attendant to a civil society, or put your famulistic boot (foot) into a common, vulgar, hanger-on?
What brought this on, was that the GLW (Good Lady Wife), gave me some rather startling news yesterday. Apparently a son of one of her friends has gone to work at my old workplace, the Australian Tax Office (ATO) at the tender age of 20. If little Johnny and his treasurer Peter Coster-Living have their way and their successors follow suit, this means that the poor sod will still be there in 60 years time i.e. 2067.
The reasoning behind this thinking, is that when the Old Age Pension (OAP) was introduced early last century, the average life expectancy for males was 61years. Barton or Skullin (no relation) or whomsoever, decided that the toilers should not only be given an eight-hour day (provided they worked longer than that). But should also be allowed to retire at 65 and the government would generously provide them with a pittance, to eke out on essentials over their last few miserable years. Secretly hoping, meanwhile, that the vast majority would croak it before then.
Of course the untrustworthy, hoi polloi bastards decided to live longer and the average life expectancy is now 82 and rising, before long the ungrateful dastardly swine will be living as long as Her Majesty and her kith and kin. The buggers will be retiring at 65 and living for another 50 years. What worries Little J and Peter is the ‘Economy’, at that rate you’ll have tens of millions of geriatrics collecting the Old Age Pension (OAP) and clogging up the hospital system. Who will be providing the taxes and hence the wherewithal to pay for this, your kids that’s who!
The obvious answer to this is to raise the age of retirement to 80 right? That’ll fix the sneaky sods and keep them toiling for another 15 years, which will have two benefits. More of them will be dropping off while toiling and will be paying taxes for another 15 years and the rest of them will be so shagged out they won’t be able to make it to the phone, let alone hospital. Brilliant! Why didn’t we think of it years ago? Because it would have affected us baby boomers you brainless berk.
The Pollies have already covered their sweet smelling, little buttocks by creating a ‘Futures Fund’, this cunning little ploy has been instituted, so every Pollie gets $1,000,000 for every year served in Parliament with an upper limit of $1 billion for ministers, prime and otherwise. The hoi polloi are also required to pay for their own pensions by secreting 10% of their wages in Super Funds. So my GLW’s mate’s son gets to work in the ATO until he’s 80. Serves him right I say!
Cheers for now,
SkyBlueSkull
http://keith-skellern.blogspot.com
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