Weapons with Wheels

We all know of the senseless tragedy that is impaired driving. Or the thousands killed by texting and otherwise distracted driving. Equally appalling is the effect of driving while exhausted. Innumerable lives are touched or ended by these preventable incidents.

But, what about operating a vehicle you are fully aware has one or more safety related defects? How is driving home while knowing that your vehicle’s brakes are completely worn out any different to responding to a text in traffic and not getting caught?

In my work life, I see every day people make absolutely conscious decisions to drive vehicles a licensed technician has demonstrated are undeniably unsafe. I hear comments such as “It’s just a work truck”, “It’s my second car”, or most recently “My wife just uses it to take the kids to school and back”. I do not have adequate vocabulary to describe how disgusted I feel when I hear these types of comments.

I used to mark it down to ignorance, so I decided to try and educate customers further, take things apart enough for the customer to see the actual defect. Nope, still heard “It’s not that bad”. People whose only qualification is to drive the vehicle, making unfounded judgements as to it’s mechanical integrity.

Judgements which affect the lives of their family and others.

Still prevalent in my industry is the “$100 safety”. We’ve all heard of it, the “technician” all too willing to write a safety slip for anyone, often for vehicles they haven’t even seen, for five crisp twenties. Irresponsible and reprehensible behaviour which is accepted as commonplace in an industry struggling with it’s public image. I’ve been asked to do this and been nothing less than insulted, going as far in some instances, as to tell the customer their business is no longer welcome at my shop.

I’m a firm believer if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem. I’m also acutely aware I can only be responsible for the actions which take place at my shop.

Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have considered the merits of an annual safety inspection. For such a program to work properly the inspections would have to be performed at Provincially-run inspection centres. Not licensed shops like the ones I’ve always worked at, but actual Ministry of Transport inspection stations. Any defects could be repaired at a licensed facility such as mine, then return to the Inspection station to confirm the repairs conform to Ministry guidelines. Such a program would ensure safer vehicles on the roads as well as eliminating the disreputable malcontents polluting my industry with “safeties for sale”.

Is such a program feasible? Oh, hell no.

But we need something.

The number of patently unsafe vehicles I see every week is astonishing. I understand financial struggles, but if one can’t afford the repair how is one to afford the carnage from the potential accident?

And we have no recourse. The idea that we, as mechanics, can remove license plates from unsafe vehicles is untrue. We cannot. Can the authorities – the MTO or the police do more? It would seem that either they can’t or, perhaps more accurately, they won’t.

A few years ago, I inspected a vehicle with defects to numerous to detail here. Suffice to say it was a death trap. The vehicle’s owner lived in my neighbourhood. I informed the owner how devastatingly dangerous the vehicle was and it should not be on the road. The owner assured me the vehicle would be parked.

Each day for the next three weeks I witnessed the vehicle in the neighbourhood and on busy London streets. I knew none of the required repairs had been performed, I had called the owner to confirm. Feeling the sting of a guilty conscience, I called the Ministry of Transportation to report the vehicle. I was promptly told there was nothing they could do and I should inform the police. Being ‘in for a penny, in for a pound’ I called the London Police Service who told me there was nothing for them to do and I should call the Ministry. I chewed 2 Tylenol 3’s and told the officer I had, indeed, spoken to the Ministry. The police simply said they could not get involved until there was an accident.

Until there was an accident.

There simply must be a better way. A means to protect the public from unsafe vehicles. Information campaigns focussing on the consequences of unsafe vehicles on our roads. Road side safety blitzes with the ability to pull plates from vehicles that fail. Increased enforcement in the safety inspection stations.

Any combination of the above and more.

If a vehicle is mechanically unfit, it’s at least as dangerous as if it were operated by a drunk, a sleep deprived person or a person with a cell phone.

They’re all weapons with wheels.

Amazing

So today’s my day off and I got called in again. This is a somewhat regular occurance. My, how it seemed like a great imposition at the time. “I’ve worked my hours, respect my rest!”. Harrumph, even.

Then, as I am wont to do, I started thinking. Last year at this time I was fresh out of hospital, unemployed and homeless. Any money I had was loooooooooooong gone. Hungry, homeless and hopeless.

Today I have a job to bitch about, a life to reclaim and a very funky telephone to blog on. Am I as wealthy as I once was?? Nope. Have as much stuff??Nope. As affluent as society might like??? Hell no!

Yet, as I watch my mutt oversee people at Burlington bay, I ask “Did I eat today?”. Yep. “Did I sleep indoors last night?”. Yep. “Do I have someone who loves me?”. Hell yes.

I have endured depression and addiction all my life. I have been angry and bitter. I have hurt many. As I look at this beast of a dog I’m trying to see things in a different light. I’m trying to see it all through his trusting eyes.

Where there was anger, let there be light. Where there is need let there be resolve.

If I could tell myself a year ago things would be like this, I’d have fewer scars on my arms. Depression hurts, but it kills in silence.

If the moment’s right, share a smile with someone today, an affirmation or even a hug. It may make the world of difference to them.

“…. For the same God that made you, made them too. These men with broken hearts.”

Labour Day

Today is Labour Day. For much of my life it was simply the last long weekend of the summer. The harbinger of the school year. The final “heat ’em up” before life gets back to normal routine.

As I mature…… get older, I find myself thinking more of worker’s rights, working conditions and mutual respect between workers and management. When I left university with all my fresh, new business administration learnin’ I was all about workers needing to be damn glad they had jobs at all. My goodness, the employers had provided a means to produce commerce and, by golly, a fair wage package that any reasonable person could live on.

Wow.

I opted for a trade which has never had union protection. Some individual shops have been organized, but the trade as a whole has never been and realistically could never be organized. Our industry has far too much ‘back-biting’ to facilitate proper organizing.

Not that a union could help us much at the moment.

I recognize the global economy is in bad shape. Despite the Government of Canada’s assurances our economy is in steady growth, national unemployment is still around 7% and local unemployment hovers about 9% in London, 6% or so in Hamilton. These are fiscal realities. And I accept them.

I also accept I’m earning less money for more hours than 8 short years ago. (And the cost of living sure ain’t dropping!)

Many of us are in the same boat. Employers expect more for less. And, in our economic climate, workers provide just that. We are becoming conditioned to take on extra responsibilities for fear of being ‘downsized’. It’s becoming a culture of ‘what have you done for me lately?’ between employer and employee.

That being said, I am grateful to have a job. I am happy to be able to provide for my family.

I am very thankful for the labour organizers whose battles and sacrifices have provided the working conditions we enjoy today. We have a minimum wage which protects workers from being taken advantage of. We have safer work places. We have a regulated work week. We have guaranteed paid holidays. And the list goes on.

The people who put their careers and lives on the line during the early days of the labour movement paved the way for unprecedented freedoms we, far to often, take for granted. The role of organized labour has evolved from it’s tumultuous origins, yet the benefits we enjoy remain the same.

As I enjoy this Labour Day, I raise my glass to the brave souls who fought it into existence.