The joys of perks!
I remember a time long ago in a Certain Northern Port in this wide brown land, when it came to pass that a New Tower/ACC was to be constructed and a radar installed to ease the load of the poor but honest TWR/APP controllers who were slugging it out procedurally.
A well known French company won the contract, despite having a reputation for leaving their customers with the soggy end of the baguette, as it were.
The controllers were agog with anticipation as they watched the new edifice rising from the mangroves on the far side of the field. What pleasures it might contain. The joy would be unconfined!
As the great day came close there was talk of the party that was to take place when the New Tower was opened. Much was to be the wassail!! There would be marquees, drink, food, music and dancing. And by the way, there might be a few visitors from Regional Office, just a few mind you.
The great day dawned bright and clear. The controllers transported their worldly goods to the new edifice i.e. their coffee cups. The first shift started amidst a tad of confusion since the management, in their infinite wisdom, had neglected to ensure that any meaningful familiarization with the new tower might take place. Perhaps they were too busy ordering kegs of beer, bushels of larks’ tongues and dancing girls.
Suddenly there came a loud gnashing of teeth and much wailing, not to mention the wringing of hands. For the boss had realized that he rostered himself to work the evening shift that very day….there would be no partying for him! In vain he begged for a shift swap. His chances were similar to the proverbial snowflakes in Hell.
As the day wore more and more aircraft arrived, bearing assorted penwipers, pointyheads and shinybums from Regional and Central Office. Normally the warmish tropical climate of this Northern Port discouraged visitors from afar, a postcard every second year was the best they could expect, but now they were like the very locusts of the plague.
At one stage there were in excess of forty visitors in the cab of the tower, it was bigger than Ben Hur. Much flesh was pressed, speeches made and credit taken by those who couldn’t identify the Northern Port on a map two times out of three on a good day.
There was talk of things to come. “You ain’t seen nuthin yet” the shinybums were heard to say. “Wait until the ACC is opened” “That will be a party not to be missed”.
And a lonely face peered down from the edifice above, wondering what might have been.
Alas there was a day of reckoning. When the beancounters greased their abacuses….abaci…abacum….when the beancounters did the sums they were aghast at the price of larks’ tongues, beer, girls (dancing) etc. not to mention the final bill from the French gentlemen. “But, M’sieur, it only slightly over quote and just a little bit late, n'est-il pas ?
And it came to pass that when the ACC was commissioned, there was not a sip of beer, not a jatz cracker to be seen and all larks were fully tongued.
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