IS THIS JOHN J. Sweeney, the man credited for reviving the AFL-CIO and turning around the entire labor movement in the United States? He looks more like somebody's genial uncle than a national force in American politics.

Sweeney's about 5'6", has a girth that pushes his belt taut, and sports a balding head that might win him an honorary mention at a Dwight Eisenhower imitation contest. The only thing that truly portends his intelligence are his eyebrows, which are permanently arched with a keen, Hitchcockian awareness. Everything else about him says "harmless senior citizen."

First impressions can be dangerous, though. And if anybody should be aware of this, it's Dick King, the president and CEO of Labor Ready Inc., a Tacoma-based national temporary-employment agency that boasts almost $1 billion in annual revenues. Sweeney took time out of his busy Seattle schedule (pushing Al Gore for president) last week to confront King at Labor Ready's annual shareholders' conference.

Sweeney is seated in the middle of a pink conference room at the La Quinta Inn in Tacoma. With his soft, tender eyes and warm smile, the AFL-CIO president stares right at King, who is moving about the front of the room, talking through a microphone to the company's shareholders.

Why would the AFL-CIO target Labor Ready? For one, unions claim that Labor Ready is skimping workers out of at least $2 million in workmen's compensation reimbursements in Washington and Ohio, a charge that those states are now investigating. Moreover, the heavy hitters in America's labor movement believe that temporary-employment companies like Labor Ready are a major reason why America's working poor never get ahead ["Over Four Million Served," Ben Jacklet, Oct 14, 1999]. Sweeney and other international labor leaders are so upset by Labor Ready's activities, in fact, that they bought stock in the company just so they could ask some pointed questions at the shareholders' convention. These leaders include Michael Monroe, president of the International Union of Painters and Allied Trades; Terence O'Sullivan, president of the Laborers' International Union of North America; Edward Sullivan, president of the Building and Construction Trades; and, of course, Sweeney. I borrowed a proxy shareholder ticket from a local labor leader to watch this showdown between Big Business and Big Labor.

Before the shareholders' meeting, Sweeney and his union brethren stand on the empty bed of an 18-wheeler, armed with a microphone and amplifiers. They draw cheers from throngs of blue-collar fans outside the Tacoma Dome as they shout rhetoric about economic and social justice.

"Labor Ready pays its workers the bare minimum," Sweeney tells the electrified mob. "There's no health care. No sick time. No vacation time. No 401(k)s. The best companies nurture a loyal workforce. It's time Labor Ready learned that lesson." As an orator, Sweeney is uninspiring, but the crowd members yell him on, because they're hard-hat union members who already agree with every word he says.

When the labor leaders/stockholders get inside the hotel, it's a different story. The room is full of people in suits, ties, and business dresses. These people don't care about the union's concerns--in fact, they have interests that run counter to Sweeney's interests. As shareholders, they have watched Labor Ready's stock plummet in value, from $28 in mid-1999 to $3.94 last week. They watched the founder of this temporary-employment agency get accused by his board of taking an "unauthorized loan" of $3.5 million to cover a margin call on his Labor Ready stock. If anything, the shareholders would like nothing better than for King to just focus on the bottom line, not on such nebulous issues as economic fairness.

The meeting begins after about 100 people have packed the room. King uses a PowerPoint slide projector, blazing through the company's most promising financial figures--a huge challenge, which he actually seems to pull off. King then plows on ahead, talking about the wonderful new employee-incentive program he calls "Employee of the Month," and showing off the new commercials that are now airing on network and cable TV. King stresses that his number-one goal is profits and revenues. And King dismisses the AFL-CIO's complaints with one quick gesture. "We've been getting a lot of factually distorted, politically distorted press by the AFL-CIO," he says. "There is nothing about the unions' claims to cause any concern."

Then it's time for questions. Sweeney is the only person raising his hand. The dapper, slick-haired King has no choice but to call on the casually attired Sweeney. Once acknowledged, the labor leader is, above all things, deferential. "I'm John Sweeney of the AFL-CIO," he says, as if he were just a concerned citizen appearing before the city council. "I'm happy to see the employees, and that you've recognized them. But there is another group of employees outside; former employees who are not happy with Labor Ready." He went on to politely suggest that Labor Ready has been in financial trouble because of the way it treats its employees.

King is quick to respond--soothingly. "Me, my philosophy, and the philosophy of this company are about the importance of people," he says. "These are my core beliefs." King tells Sweeney that he can't control employee wages: The companies that hire Labor Ready set the hourly rates. "We do pay more than a dollar above the minimum wage," insists King.

The questions persist for about half an hour, with other labor leaders raising their hands. King evades all their questions with a serious look plastered on his face. Soon, however, King abruptly ends this well-orchestrated meeting. Terence O'Sullivan of the laborers' union is still raising his hand when the Labor Ready CEO decides that there is no more time for questions. Everybody begins shuffling out. "They didn't answer any of our questions," complains builder's union president Edward Sullivan.

Clearly, King won on the P.R. front, snubbing Big Labor on King's home turf. The labor leaders are left grumbling to themselves on the sidewalk outside--all but Sweeney, that is. "I've certainly been to more exciting meets," he allows. It doesn't matter to the pro-union crowd awaiting his return. When Sweeney turns the corner of the hotel to face the mob, they greet him as if he had just slain yet another evil capitalist dragon. The AFL-CIO leader smiles. To them, at least, he's victorious.

phil@thestranger.com