John’s locker

(continued from losing my religion)

The sheer size of the crowds, at the inauguration, was staggering. As they began to move towards the security checkpoints, and to coalesce around other areas where they could waitfor their chance to get it to the viewing areas, the crowds rendered many parts of the complex impassible.  They would migrate from place-to-place like a hoarde of army ants, driving bystanders before them like prey animals.

The fortunate part for me was that I managed to elude some of the crowds , thanks to my handy-dandy inaugural identification (all access) which granted me unrestricted access to every part of the ceremony except the inaugural platform on the West Front.  This gave me both a chance to get warm and an opportunity to pass, unimpeded, across part of the capitol complex.

The biggest problem, in hindsight, was that there simply wasn’t enough room for all the people who wanted to attend the event.  This lead to people attempting to breach security (they were turned back) or to overwhelm it and enter the overflow areas early.  I have to give the officers a lot of credit.  They stood out in the cold all day long, and were polite, professional, and understanding-even when they didn’t have to be so.

The other problem was that people failed to consider the impact of the bitter cold on their health.  People with coronary conditions, diabetes, emphysema, and other medical conditions, were dropping like flies.  Also, people with the flu showed up (bad form) and when they began vomiting (sorry for being gross) had to be removed.  All things being equal, it’s amazing NO ONE was arrested. (more later)

January 20, 2009. 

As some may recall, some may choose to foget, and some never knew, I work for the United States Capitol Police (USCP) providing physical security to elected officials on the capitol complex.  You elect ‘em, we’ll protect ‘em is our unofficial motto.

Yesterday, January 20, 2009, we had something on the order of 500,000 crazy people descend on our nation’s capitol to see Barrack Hussein Obama being sworn in as the 44th President of the United States.  This inauguration is historic because it connotes a sea change in the governance of our Constitutional Republic- a black man gets to be President.  Yay us!

The day (for me, actually started at 5 p.m. January 19th , 2009- when I reported for work.  Figuring (correctly) that the logistics of trying to get to work on the day of the inauguration (at 3 a.m.) would prove to be impossible, I chose to go in early, crash on the floor in a sleeping bag, and then work the 20th.  I got the equation half right in that I did manage to report early.  There was no sleeping involved.

The morning of the 20th was bitterly cold, overcast, and way too dark when I started actually working.  I rolled out the door to the Command van (at lot 575) and began working on the wireless cctv link.  Even at this early hour we had tourists and gawkers wandering into places that they shouldn’t be in, and creating a commotion. 

As the day progressed it became increasingly difficult to get from point A to point B to get work done.  The combination of security checkpoints, barriers, and the HUGE crowds (who for some reason simply refused to get out of the way) meant walking way the heck out of the normal path of travel (moving from the Rayburn to the 575 lot ( southwest side of the capitol) required that I go North and East.

More later

Hugh Latimer is reported to have said “Play the man, Master Ridley; we shall this day light such a candle, by God’s grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out ” as he stood outside Balliol college (with his friend Nicholas Ridley) awaiting execution for teaching heresy.   I am reminded of these words as I contemplate the decision before me.  I must either agree to go to LA, to fix a problem not of my making (which management DID create) or face the fact that my separation from my agency will be adversarial.  This despite the fact that I have no assurance that doing this thing will speed my departure.  Indeed, I have every reason to believe that management’s promises are worthless, and that any deal brokered by them is negotiated in bad faith.  What, then, to do?

I admit that I am more than a little dismayed and angered by the attempt to blackmail me into going to LA.  I am also angered by the fact that they have, cavalierly, chosen to disregard that the leave I am requesting is mine as a matter of right.  I earned it, and now management is threatening to extend me, to deny my leave, and to cause me financial and familial hardship, and all because they failed to do their jobs.  Setting aside the issue of how BIlbo became as he is, a matter I had no hand in, there is still the matter of fairness and forewarning. 

It is not as though FPS management had no forewarning of my departure.  They knew, in May of this year, that I had been offered (and had accepted) a job with the US Capitol Police.  They also knew that I was merely waiting on the completion of a background investigation and a security clearance.  Indeed, management had been previously (and amply) warned, by me, on previous occasions that my departure presented some serious issues for the agency, and that they needed to develop a transition plan.  I had also, previously, advised management that it was ill considered to place so many high level responsibilities (four program areas) on one person.  I had advised them that they were, in fact, creating a single point of failure mechanism which could have serious consequences should I become ill, die, retire, or quit. 

Management chose to do nothing.  Agency management sat on their hands and whistled while events wended their way to where we are now.  As it stands, their answer appears to be that somehow it’s acceptable to threaten me (with extension), with all that entails, because senior management could not be bothered to do what was required of them.  I have come to realize that this is not a one time aberration, from an otherwise exemplary pattern of performance, but rather it is part of a larger whole.  It is the same philosophy of management that deemed it acceptable to take money for repairing security systems (in the region) while not doing the work.  It is the same type of management practice that, in my humble opinion, made it easier for the San Diego Courthouse to be bombed in May of this year.

I have made my decision, and it is this:  I will play the man.  I will do what is necessary to leave, on schedule- but know this as well… the agency has burnt this bridge.  When I am gone they will receive no help, no advice, and I will answer no questions from this agency.  I gave them fair warning of my new job, and how it would affect them.  I treated the agency’s managers fairly and professionally and had my courtesy and professionalism returned with petty extortion.  I will not make that mistake again.

Conventional wisdom, or maybe it was Robert Lynne Aspirin, holds that making a deal with the Devil is always a bad idea.  Folk tales abound, including “The Devil and Daniel Webster” which caution that deals with the Devil often go awry, leaving one paying much for something of little value.  Perhaps this thought is why I feel so much trepidation tonight, because my boss(es) have proposed a “deal” that creates more stress for me without really committing them to much in return.

As an interesting digression, (or not) it is curious that I can go months without writing in my blog, and then so much happens that I feel a need to vent… and VOILA, multiple postings on a related topic.  In this case, this post is a follow on to the one I made early this morning and in which I discussed (ad nauseum) my problems in dealing with the ethically challenged management in my agency.  As a part deux, to this post, I will pick up where I left off. 

Mark apparently took the issue to the big Kahuna, with an interesting result.  Rather than resolving the issue at hand (my leave and separation from the agency) they decided to come up with a bizarre “counter-offer” which really put nothing on the table on their side, while implying that they could fuck with my departure if I didn’t give them what they wanted.  The deal is this:  I fly to LA, next week, spend five days down there trying to whip the Elec. Technician into shape (Bilbo) and “transferring knowledge” and they will “try” to see their way clear to letting me take my terminal leave and separate as scheduled. 

The reason this is a deall with the Devil?  This management team has made a habit of breaking deals after the fact… particularly my boss Benny.  I do’t have a lot of faith that they’ll do what they say they will do.  The question then becomes, do I want to fight THIS battle or to save my energy for the final fight that is sure to come when they break their deal.

More to the point, I had no hand in making Bilbo what he is today.  That he is a problematic employee is a direct result of management’s failure to get him under control over the last eighteen years.  He disappears from the jobsite without notice, is gone for most of the day, no one seems to know where he is or what he is doing, and yet his immediate supervisor allows him unlimited overtime.  When it comes time to draft scopes of work, estimates, requisitions, project plans, gannt charts, pert diagrams, and to do technical or contract reviews Bilbo will be found at the point furthest away from the work.  He has, in essence, been allowed to be retired for eighteen years (on the public nickle) with absolutely no consequences.  Now I’m supposed to fix this problem in five days.

I have already expressed my concerns on this issue to management. Specifically that I expect that nothing I do will change Bilbo from a slacker to a superstar.  I should know, I sounded him out when I first had an indication that I would be leaving the agency… and I was completely underwhelmed by his response.  He’s a likeable guy, but not a “go to” player when something needs to be done now.  I have another employee (up here in SF) who needs more guidance and coaching-but he’s a self starter and with a little more mentoring could step up to the plate.  Problem is that he’s a contractor and mangement wants me to fix the federal slug.

I am already stressed from the things I need to do to move, and some of those things MUST be done after work because there aren’t enough hours in the weekend to do them all.  If I bite on this deal then I run the risk that they’ll jam me anyways, and I will be further behind on my move preparations.   If I don’t agree the implied threat is that they’ll screw up my seaparation (even though they’ve known about my plans to depart since May.)

What to do? (more later)

Did you ever have anyone who just wants to screw with you, just because they can?  Color me surprised that my boss, Benny, has struck again.  What’s odd about this behavior is that I’m leaving the agency, permanently, to go work somewhere else. 

For those of you who have read my rants, you already know I work (for now) for the Department of Homeland Security.  Due to family concerns I had been applying for different jobs, closer to my parents, so that I could help my sister out (she is helping take care of them).  My parents are mentally competent, but they are elderly (80s) and their health is failing.  Neither one of them drives (any longer) and they don’t live near public transit. 

I had received an appointment letter, from the US Capitol Police, and we had negotiated a mutually advantageous start date.  Cue Benny to try to screw things up. In hindsight, I guess my big mistake was in trying to treat Benny (and the agency fairly.)  I had given the agency a head’s up (way back in May of this year) that i was selected for another job and would probably be gone before 10/01/08.  I kept the agency advised of my status and when I finally got a start date- I promptly advised management at my current agency.  I also suggested that we might meet on Monday (yesterday) to discuss the impact of my departure and to make sure nothing fell through the cracks.  I further indicated that I wanted to take “terminal leave” so that I could move.  All in all the agency has had about four months of warning and will have had three weeks of formal notice.  You’ll see why this is important later.

Monday morning comes around, and I am doing my thing at work (I wear about four hats there).   Everything seems to be cool and groovy, so after lunch I fill out my terminal leave request and take it in to Benny’s office.  Benny decides to screw with me.  First it’s “we can extend you for 30 days.”  When I asked whether that was his intention, or not, he said “I’m not saying we will, I’m just saying we can.”  Of course my response was “If you’re not planning on extending me, then why bring it up.”  Benny ignores my question by saying that he “doesn’t have to approve my leave request.”  So, I ask “are you GOING to disapprove my leave request?”  I get another one of those “I’m not saying I’m going to, but I can” responses.  

We do this dance two more times, at which point I tell Benny that, perhaps, we should continue this conversation in the big Kahuna’s office.  Benny doesn’t want to go, which (when coupled with his refusal or inablility to tell whether he was going to screw with my departure and if so, WHY he would do so)  tells me this isn’t direction coming from above, it’s Benny being a class A prick.  Oh, and I forgot to mention the fact that a delay will end up costing me about seven thousand dollars (because I’m paying for my own move and would have to maintain two households for a protracted period.)

At this point I am more than a little “perturbed” and want to punch Benny in the mouth.  I didn’t, but maybe I should have done so.  I’m more than a little steamed because Benny had ample opportunity to talk to me about this issue over the weekend and Monday morning.  Of course he couldn’t actually “man up” and talk to me.  No, the little punk bitch hid in his office, like he usually does. 

I took this issue to Benny’s boss.  We’ll see what happens.  My feeling, at this point is that while I was willing to have this departure work out so that everyone was happy, I am not going to sit back and take it.  If Benny’s boss (Mark) fixes this problem, then it’s all good.  If not, then I have no problem spending every hour of every day, between now and the day I was supposed to leave, pursuing this up the chain of command.  If I have to, I’ll take it up to Julie Meyers.  If I have to take it outside the region, then EVERYTHING (management’s fuck ups) will be on the table.  I don’t want to burn this bridge, but if it’s going to burn then I am going to make DAMN sure that they know it will never be rebulit. 

I got a letter, today, from Senator Feinstein.  The upshot of the letter was that she had received my correspondence on a serious problem at work.  The problem affected the safety and security of the public (and federal employees) at a federal building and US Courthouse in San Diego. 

The gratifying thing is that the question has been referred to the United States Department of Justice.   The sad part is that it took my writing to the Senator to get some action on the issue.  It pertains to the vulnerability of the facility and the recent attack.  Since much of this information is in the public domain it isn’t a matter of security or confidentiality.  

Here are some links:

http://michellemalkin.com/2008/05/04/whats-up-with-that-san-diego-courthouse-bombing/

http://www.signonsandiego.com/news/metro/20080505-1503-bn05bomb.html

I have been standing on the desks of senior management (of my agency) trying to get this problem (and several like it) fixed for more than three years.  My sense is that no one (in management) cared until this bombing happened and then it was a mad scramble to CYA.  And YES, I have the e-mails to prove what I say.

In the interim, I can’t wait to move on, it’s that fundamentally dysfunctional in my agency.

Actually, I’m starting from the middle and working my way to either end.  Back up, erase, restart.  My name is Jim.  It’s not my full name, but being named after your father, and your grandfather kinda limits your options.  Just about every male child, in my father’s extended family, was named after my grandfather.  Every permutation of William (known to man) has been used in my family and so I am Jim.  Occasionally I am James or “WILLIAM JAMES” when my parents or one of my two sisters is scolding me.

I am 48, a former Marine (never an ex-Marine or I’ll clobber ya), and I work for the United States Department of Homeland Security, Bureau of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Federal Protective Service  in region nine (California, Arizona, Nevada, and Hawaii).   Since that’s quite a mouthful I reckon that I’ll just shorten it to R-9 FPS. 

I design electronic security countermeasures, manage projects, manage the alteration of real property, design and manage the emergency law enforcement communications system for my region, manage the computer network, and serve as the ISSO for my agency.  In my off time I’m a fair-to-middling guitar and harmonica player (blues, jazz, folk, country, and rock.)

I am also a discovering alcoholic with a passion for Graves pure grain alcohol, arrogant bastard ale, and Mike’s hard cranberry lemonade.

As things stand, right now, I am in the middle of transitioning from one job to another.  I have a conditional letter of employment with the United States Capitol Police.  This is a good opportunity for me because, even though it means less money, it also means I can be closer to my family in Massachusetts.  It also means I have more opportunity AND I get to drive across country to get to my new job.  I’m psyched.  If only nothing goes sideways…

More later

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