(VIDEO: Factory Worker Management, 1955; via igather)
Outisde of Eilat, Israel, I worked the factory line of a fish packaging plant. Waking at dawn in the nearly-mud floor barracks of a farm-like ‘kibbutz,’ I’d walk down to the Negev Desert highway and catch the bus into town. I’d wear big rubber Wellington boots, a rubber apron and help package 5-8 metric tons of nitrous-frozen fish from the coral seabeds of the Gulf of Eilat.
Socialism will always remind me of icy fish scales on sunburnt skin, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! and the homerun my friend Jasyon knocked straight through the date palms + across the Jordanian border.
