RIVETHEAD: Tales From the Assembly Line, by Ben Hamper, Warner Books, 234 pages, $19.95.

For 11 years, until forced to retire because of ill health, the author was a third-generation “shoprat” — a worker on the assembly line at General Motors’ Truck and Bus Plant in Flint, Mich., otherwise known as “Greaseball Mecca.”

Hamper’s specialty on the line was riveting. His writing style, patterned after that of gonzo journalism pathfinder Hunter Thompson, is also riveting, to say the least.

His account of blue-collar life inside the auto works rings true, but the descriptions of rampant on-the-job abuse of alcohol and drugs on the assembly line also make one wonder as to the quality of the product the guys were turning out. Never buy a car made on a Monday, the old advice goes. After reading this book, I wonder about the rest of the week, as well.

The “rivethead” became an author in 1981, when he began jotting down observations of his life on the line and they were published by the local underground newspaper, the Flint Voice.

The columns were popular with the working stiffs at GM but not, as you might imagine, with management. Eventually, the law of pack journalism took over and soon legitimate publications came calling, including the Wall Street Journal and national magazines such as Esquire and Mother Jones. Hamper became somewhat of a celebrity and this, in turn, enticed television.

The author’s encounter with the television program “60 Minutes” was classic. One of the show’s producers came to Flint to interview Hamper, but it didn’t go well from the start:

“The interview was headed nowhere. It seemed increasingly evident that, besides his producer’s title, Joel Bernstein was sworn to another duty — to run interference for the impending spine-removal tactics of a Mike Wallace or an Ed Bradley. If you managed to weather his test run, perhaps they would fly in the heavy artillery and your mama would get to see you squirm in prime time…”

Sensing Hamper’s discomfort, the producer demanded, “How would you handle it if Harry Reasoner was sitting in my place and the camera was rolling in on you?”

The author, who by this time had ceased to give a damn, replied, “I’d make sure that I was drunk.”

Berstein almost flew out of his chair. “NOT ON 60 MINUTES YOU WON’T.”

End of interview.

It was “60 Minutes”‘ loss. Viewers could have learned how assembly line workers, bored to tears with the robot routine, fought the domination of the clock by inventing such games as Rivet Hockey and Dempster Ball.

The author’s explanation of Rivet Hockey: “The game was simple. Position a rivet on the floor, scope out an opposing linemate, and kick the rivet as hard as possible toward the linemate’s foot, ankle or shin. In Rivet Hockey, pain was the payoff. To connect on a direct hit to a tender tibia, to exact blood through an opponent’s pantleg, was equivalent to kicking a 50-yard field goal in the Rose Bowl. Remorse was forbidden. Revenge was encouraged. Ruptures were illegal. Every rat for himself…”

But the book is much more than a recounting of such juvenile hi-jinks. It is an insightful commentary on the mind-numbing boredom and excruciatingly repetitive life of the modern assembly line, and the way those workers struggle to maintain their sanity and dreams of a better life.

As Hamper puts it: “Devotion, responsibility and duty to the Corporation. The bottle was never far away, but it always rode shotgun.”

Kent Ward is the NEWS associate managing editor.