* * *

After ten days off, my return to work was as though I was never gone. Nothing had changed in my absence and yet at the same time everything has changed.

Nothing has changed as far as my insignificant role in the workings of that multimillion dollar corporate machine is concerned. I still have the same empty building to work in; the same jobs to run; the same reports to print each night; and the same tapes to put into the same tape-drives.

What has changed though is my employers boss. While still not quite set in stone, it appears that my employer's parent company is about to be gobbled up by a bigger fish.

If my employer's owner gets acquired by a bigger company, do they have to honor the severance package I was offered? Or will that carrot again disappear from the end of the stick before I can reach it.

In a past column I ended with a quote from a little old rock and roll band called The Who. That song, "Won't get fooled again," is on my mind again. It is the last line, "Meet the new boss, same as the old boss," which now stands out like a blinking red light.

In an attempt to put this new development into perspective, I went back into my archives and read all of my columns which pertain to my employment. It was depressing.

At the end of 1996 I was still expecting a programming position. By mid January however, that position was looking doubtful and I began considering other options.

By mid February I had completely given up hope on the programming job. In a rant about meaningless deadlines, I was looking forward to just getting out of there and possibly going back to school.

When the company -- all but three of us -- moved to Mosinee, I was ecstatic. I was absolutely certain that I would be out of there by the end of June. It was only a week later that all hopes of unemployment were dashed. The light-at-the-end- of-the-tunnel was barely visible.

A week later, when all three of us who remained in the otherwise vacant offices, were ready to quit we were promised an incentive to continue. We were assured at that time that we would be out of there by the middle of July.

I wanted to believe that this dubious plan would actually bring about my emancipation so I began making plans of my own.

It wasn't long before my doubts were confirmed and another deadline had proven itself to be about as concrete as a rainbow during a drought. When it became evident that I would be spending the entire summer on the night-shift -- again -- it was my turn to threaten to walk out. And while I did gain some concessions as a result of my indignation, there is still no sign of that elusive pot of gold.

But getting back to my original question though, in the event of a buy-out is my point now moot? Are old promises null and void?

This past week I waited in vain for news of the new boss's intentions. Strangely quiescent, even the grapevine gleaned nothing. No one even seems to want to speculate unless pushed for a guess. With all new management, anything can happen and it is anyone's guess what they plan to do with their new companies.

All I know for sure is that it's not about me or any other employee there to do a job. It's not about manufacturing a product or providing jobs, and it has nothing to do with enhancing the community.

What it is about is money. Big money, not that thing called a wage. I'm talking about mergers and acquisitions, and the price of the companies stock. It all comes down to the bottom-line, the return on investment in dollars and cents -- regardless of sense.

In any event, I will not be easily lured back into a corporate job once out of this one. I've had enough ... more than enough.