Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Growing up my only real notions of a foreman came from the Flintstones. The show was an old stalwart and Mr. Slate was one of my favorite characters. I know that Mr. Slate was Fred's boss and not a foreman exactly but for some reason I always equated what a foreman was with this character. Which is why when I originally left the public service for the oil patch I wasn't really sure what to expect when it came to foremen. I still remember walking into my foreman's office with a great deal of trepidation the first time he asked to speak to me. In the end it was just to ask how I was making out so far on the job and give me a couple pointers.
I know I brought a lot of old stereotypes with me. They are hard taskmasters, symbols of capitalism (oh, the horrors) and of course they yelled a lot. But of course I didn't find that at all. Actually, an old foreman of mine (ok, not OLD since he was actually younger than me) was one of the best guys I ever worked with. Now that I'm a foreman (at least part-time) I know that I am non of these things. I'm a stickler for promptness but I don't think of myself as a tyrant. I'm not about to defend capitalism (or at least the American flavour of it) and I don't yell and raise my voice...very often.
Perhaps the only resemblance between Mr. Slate and I is our profound lack of fashion sense.