Harry Tomrop – Last of the ‘Tin Hares’

Henry Tomrop in his front gardenNot sure when this went to press, a long way back, I’d say it was 1982, for the 50th Anniversary of the Coat Hanger… it’s a story from the Sydney Morning Herald (I have a scan of it) and it’s all about my Great Grandfather…

To the family he was known as Henry, he was always keen to talk about the cricket, tennis and the good times from the past, he was however quite tight-lipped (as many diggers are) about the bad times of war. For the time I knew him, I was too young to appreciate just how special he was. It would have be a joy for Henry to be here now and to have a good ol’ chat.

When I first read this article, I found out things I never knew about Henry… he was then and still is an inspiring spirit.

A long one so I’ll continue it after a jump… Story starts now: By Richard Raxworthy

Of all the remarkable men who came to light during the 50th anniversary of the Sydney Harbour Bridge the mist remarkable would have to be Harry Tomrop. Tom to his mates, he is the last known survivor of the “Tin Hares”, the 12 steel erectors who built the Bridge. Of course they had the help of nearly 1,000 men in England and 2,000 in Australia, but they, with the two crane drivers, positioned every piece of steel.

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Time for Change

Straw that Broke the Camel's backI currently work for a company that is run by someone who likes to be in control and manned by sycophants who just love to say “Yes” and “How high?”.

Now I know that I’m being unreasonable and I’m certain you will all agree, but I think I should occasionally be allowed to be 3 minutes late for work due to traffic. I shouldn’t have to leave home 20 minutes earlier than I already do, just on the off chance that someone might run themselves into someone else everyday.

And on these odd occasions that I am late, I certainly don’t want to be pulled into a meeting room and told how disappointing it is that I couldn’t be at my desk and tapping away on my keyboard at 8.30am.

I mean for goodness sake, I’m 32, not 12. It’s not like I’m your average 8.30 to 5 worker… it’s not like they don’t ring me late at night and expect me to be available to answer inane questions. It is also not like I don’t do work out of hours and on weekends because we have so much to do!

But I digress, wait no I don’t, that’s my whole point right there in the paragraph above. At work I am web developer, designer, photographer, proof-reader, furniture mover, voice of reason and anything else they seem to think I should be. And for the most part I don’t mind. But being jumped on for being 3 minutes late and chastised like a child.

The guy might own the company, heck he may also own those at management level, but he doesn’t own me. This is the first time ever I have been so disgusted with a direct manager.

As a manager I would never bust a staff member for something so stupid, unless of course it was a serious issue affecting their work, but as I said before, I do more that the hours required.

What’s more the company hasn’t given the plebs a pay rise in over three years, not even CPI (consumer price index).

So now on the market… one slightly used web developer, will work for money (but it’s not the MOST important thing). Excellent experience.

As always the universe sends a message at just the right time… this from the Flying Solo newsletter (arrived in my in box this morning).

But there’s a danger that bending over backwards for our clients can end up doing us more harm than good.

At some point, most of us have knowingly put ourselves out by accepting a rush job from a desperate client. Like Chicken Little, these clients insist the sky will fall in if you don’t drop everything and help them solve their problem.

Every time we turn our attention to them, it comes at some expense to us. Another client’s project, a lunch date with a loved one… plans go out the window when Chicken Little calls.

Why should a lack of planning on their part effectively create a panic in our work?

Naturally, you want to please your clients and provide an excellent service, but there’s a fine line between that and allowing their problems to become your problems.

If we have no boundaries, we are in danger of allowing our clients to set them for us. This fosters poor behaviour in them and is a one way ticket to Frazzletown for us.

Funny how that happens… and I often think of my employer as a client… and every inch of my being says this client is one that should be let go for fear I end up in Frazzletown.