Life On The Spareboard

The spareboard, Ms J. It's a rotating list of men who are called to work in their turn. We spareboard men operate any and all trains over a wide variety of territory. We are called to replace employees who are sick, under rest or on vacation. When our tour of duty is complete, our name returns to the bottom of the spareboard list. The Crew Management Centre phones us to work again when we reach the top of the list. If we have booked rest (6-24 hours), we cannot be called until the rest period has expired, even if our name is at the top of the list.

Tu comprends?

I awoke at 5:00 this morning. It wasn't the phone that woke me. I woke on my own. After an hour or so of spinning like ... well, you remember my dad's expression, I got up and began my day. I had booked rest after work last night. Eight hours, I think. My rest was up at 0455 and I had hoped to go to work this morning. The morning came and went and the phone did not ring. It's five o'clock right now. The afternoon is nearly gone. And still no call from work.

I hate when this happens, Ms J. I've been awake and busy all day today. Now, this evening, when I'm tired and ready for bed, the phone will ring and I'll have to go to work. Somewhere. It could be a freight train. Or maybe a GO train. Maybe I'll have to drive to Aldershot. Or Oshawa. Or maybe CN's massive freight yard in Concord. Or possibly Oakville.

This is when the spareboard SUX.

When there's lots of work, and I get called as soon as my rest is up, it's not too bad. I make lots of money and I can (sort of) regulate my work hours to allow me to have a Life beyond the railway. I'd like to go to church tomorrow morning. There's a music concert I'd like to attend on Sunday afternoon. A man is coming here Monday morning to give me a quote on replacing the shingles on my house. I have tickets for a dinner cruise on Lake Ontario on Wednesday. And Scout and I want to go to the zoo this month.

But work comes first. That's the way they want it, Ms J. They want to control every minute of my Life. They want us all married to our jobs. A few years ago, before the American invasion, we could take a day off when we wanted it. No questions asked. Sure, a few abused the privilege. But most did not.

Life on the spareboard. It's the best of times ... and the worst of times.

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