Them as know me will recognise my lifetime worrying about the extent to which “the Fat Man” is taking over our world. Somehow I managed to find myself working for the Fat Man in a manner that I always felt was little better than prostitution (hence my tongue-in-cheek moniker “corporate whore”). I am so relieved to have escaped from that world now – at least I can live with my conscience when I go to bed at night these days.
Sadly my University is throwing its all into trying to push students (including me) into that corporate world without a thought for wellbeing or psyche. I am sucked into it in a laughable way. As part of the coursework for one of my modules I have had to write up a CV – because too many students leave Uni without a suitable CV to get themselves a job……hmmmmm. My next coursework assignment is to prepare and deliver a 10-minute presentation on a scientific subject of my choice…..because too many students leave Uni without a clue about how to deliver a coherent presentation…..double hmmmmmmmm. I mean quite apart from the fact that I’ve delivered more presentations than I’ve had hot breakfasts and looked at more graduates CVs than most people will see in a lifetime, let’s face it – I’d rather eat my own toenails than go back into the world of big business. To be frank, I’d rather eat someone else’s toenails than do that again.
Anyway, it’s got me thinking about what I will do with the rest of my working life after I finish my degree. As I just said, the thought of working for a bunch of corporate sharks again leaves me cold so that means I need to formulate a “Plan B”.
I got to thinking that it might be nice to work for a small business that holds values similar to my own – quality, not quantity and providing a great product or service that makes people want to buy it. I want to work for someone who’s not beholden to the stock market and there isn’t some city bank/investment group/private equity firm (substitute any other fat cats that I’ve not thought of) creaming off the profits and cracking the whip. You MUST deliver bigger margins, more revenue, more for us, even though we don’t even know what it is you do, just give us more of your money……because let’s face it, we’ve not got enough of it yet……
So, it was with great misery that I discover that one possible employer that might fit my bill, not to mention one of my all-time favourite tipples – Doom Bar – has, this week, fallen into the hands of the Fat Man. Molson Coors to be precise. We were proud to serve Doom Bar at our wedding – a local beer, made only a few miles from here and from a small business.
Crap, crap, crappety crap. This can only be BAD. No good can come of it.
Oh yes, they’re making all the right noises about keeping brewing in Rock and about their “tremendous opportunity”…..yeah right, call me cynical but it strikes me it’s a tremendous opportunity to crap all over a great beer for the sake of a “great brand”.
I had a bit of a shock when I realised that Sharps isn’t a long-established brewery but a relatively young one, having been established in 1994. Not a bad return on 17 years work & investment – twenty million quid huh? Perhaps the lure of that sort of filthy lucre was just too great a temptation for the erstwhile owners. It was described as “a great marriage” – yep – the Fat Man waves about a big fat wad of cash and gets what he wants……..again.
Us little (now, sadly also erstwhile) drinkers of Doom Bar are nothing more than a new profit stream for some faceless bunch in, I think, Canada. Excellent.
So, mine's a pint of Tribute in future, thanks very much. We'll be putting our hard-earned into the pockets of a real local brewery.
Thanks to Iain and Becks for providing me with my photo opportunity – I’ve wanted to do this rant since the news broke but not had the props.