Detroit, being a union town (to its debit or credit however ya happen ta see the question) required some soul with a union card on any job requirin' such which, in the humble opinion of the union, a not rather humble opinion if I may say, union affiliation there, me Grandpa had an issue. Still, he could not rent his wares on a union site without a union guy on hand. So he pays me father's dues to the Teamsters, so's that a union guy might magically appear on a job site where his equipment may happen to be, to satisfy those certain requirements.
Now, I'm not recalling something here to provoke a fight about unionism. Truly I'm not. But what I found fascinating about the whole hullabaloo was in seein' the business agent from Teamsters Local 247 comin' out every three years t' negotiate with me Grandad me Pops' own contract. They, the Teamsters, held this general contract ye see with all companies in their realm, the generalities within all companies bein' applied to all, with the particulars up for debate. Joe and me Pops fell in between such lines.
O'course, Pops and Joe always agreed on them particulars. Yet me, I always imagined me old Dad marchin' along 12th Street in Detroit with a sign assertin', JOE COSGRIFF UNFAIR. It woulda been a sight.
It woulda been a sight. From this distance, I think them boys may have agreed on the lunacy. Them boys bein' Grandpa Joe and me Pops. Because Joe Cosgriff, he woulda' never been unfair to me Pops. They loved each other too much to have allowed that.