Trash Haulers, Writers on the Same Page

Hollywood screenwriters worried about a possible strike this summer bemoan the lack of respect the studios give them. Among other things, writers don’t get to go on national movie-promoting junkets and usually aren’t even allowed on the film sets.

The prevailing view of the studios, one writer said last week, seems to be that they’re a dime a dozen.

Robin Saucedo smiles at that lament. You want to discuss professional respect?

Saucedo hauls trash for a living. At 34, he’s been doing it for half his life after dropping out of high school in the 11th grade to become a father who could provide for a new baby.

But Saucedo isn’t one of life’s sad sacks. He and his wife have a nice home in a nice Santa Ana neighborhood and, after having their first baby as teenagers, waited 13 years for another and now have a daughter and son, ages 17 and 4.

This summer, he and Orange County’s garbage haulers will be negotiating a new contract with the dozen or so companies that pick up residential and commercial trash.

Unlike Hollywood screenwriters, who will get plenty of publicity as they battle the concentrated power of studio moguls, the trash haulers likely will take on the powerful disposal companies without much public awareness.

But listen to Saucedo and you’d swear the two guilds talk from the same script.

“The owners don’t respect us,” Saucedo says. “They just look at us like, ‘You just take what we’re giving.’ They did that for years, and we’re not putting up with it anymore.”

If you wonder just how much leverage a bunch of undereducated, low-paid trash haulers have, you’ve put your finger on their problem at salary-talk time.

The current multiple-year contract featured hourly raises of 35 cents--a quarter and a dime, Saucedo says. A 17-year veteran of the trash business, Saucedo’s regular pay tops out at $12.90 an hour.

Tired of Taking Garbage From Bosses

He lives as comfortably as he does only because he works 60-hour weeks, he says. The overtime pay, which approaches $20 an hour, is a necessity he says he’d like to do without.

“We don’t want to work any more 60-hour weeks,” he says as we talk in his living room. “The company says, ‘What are you complaining about, we’re paying you overtime.’ We want to make more so we don’t have to work such long hours and we can enjoy our families.”

Saucedo’s day begins with a 4:30 a.m. wake-up call so he can punch in at work at 5. Typically, he’s finished with his routes about 6 p.m. Not always, though.

“The owners have told us the routes come first,” he says. “They say even if we have to stay out till 9 at night, we have to pick those routes up.”

This summer at the bargaining table, the Teamsters local representing 1,400 Orange County garbage workers wants to negotiate a single contract with the various trash companies. Rene Lujan, a business representative for Local 396, says the companies historically have preyed on the workers.

“A lot of these guys are just happy to have jobs,” he says. “They’re hard-working guys driving 60 hours a week. That’s a lot of hours to work on the road. Working with trash . . . it’s just not the most desirable job to have.”

Lujan says Orange County’s trash workers are paid several dollars an hour less than the prevailing wage in other metropolitan areas.

A spokesman for one of the county’s trash-hauling firms wouldn’t discuss numbers with me, noting that negotiations haven’t begun yet. He acknowledges, however, that it’s unlikely the companies will agree to negotiate a single contract for all county haulers.

Saucedo says the haulers are ready to stand firm for what they want.

“How do you have a life after working 60 hours a week?” Saucedo asks. “I don’t even want to walk my dog when I get home. I don’t want to do anything. I’ve got a 4-year-old boy. I’m tired. I come home, eat, go to bed.”

I ask if he feels a kinship with his distant relatives in the screenwriters guild.

He smiles at the comparison and nods.

“We’re not going to take a quarter anymore,” Saucedo says. “We want some respect too.”

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626-1697, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.