I finally got around to switching from hotmail to gmail a couple of months or so ago. The layout is different, and you have to learn gmail's way of navigating. It took me a long time to find my contact list, and even to figure out how to log off. My kids used to play a video game called "Super Mario Brothers." Yeah, OK, I played it, too. It was a good game. There were ways you could get points, but you had to know where the hidden sources were. Gmail is like that. They hide stuff, and you have to find it.
So here was my first really unnerving experience with gmail. I was sending someone an e-mail about something, and I guess I sort of waxed a bit existential in describing my emotional investment in whatever it was. I said "I have attached myself to..." When I finished the e-mail, and pressed "Send," a notice appeared advising me that I had said "I have attached...," but there was no attachment. Wasn't there something I wanted to attach? WTF! Get out of my business! Really? Gmail is "reading" my e-mail and making paternalistic suggestions for how and what I communicate?
Then, there was the time I sent Janey Anderson an e-mail, and I went to include Bob. But apparently, the cursor was slightly off center, and instead of adding Bob, I added Barbara Kuhl, whose name is next to Bob's on my list of Bs. I think the list, again a gross intrusion, is in order of frequency that I send, not normal and expected alphabetical order. So a note popped up, asking me if I meant Bob instead of Barbara. Shut up! It appears gmail also tracks the frequency of combinations of recipients?
Well of course I meant Bob instead of Barbara, though I could have been arranging a crochet circle with the girls, and meant Barbara and not Bob. I was not one bit appreciative. This is an offense. And when I admitted the mistake, which gmail corrected automatically when I clicked yes (!!!), it then asked me if I would like to add Gary Kuhl, Supreme Dorvil, and Chuck Ross.
This is essentially criminal. It's true that I write a certain kind of e-mail that goes to that configuration of people, but this wasn't it, dammit! And since I agreed not to include Barbara, who is also part of that configuration, why am I then offered Gary, Supreme, and Chuck anyway?
Can't gmail mind its own business?
A friend of mine recently got a Mac laptop. She happens to be a published author and a one-time college English professor. When she recently sent me an e-mail which included the word "brake," her program, which is not gmail, took the liberty of "correcting" the spelling to break. But she meant brake. It was about her car. And another e-mail from her included the word naivete. Look, she happens to speak French, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with naivete. But her program liked naivety better, so it imposed that instead. I told her it was a good thing they didn't insist on nativity.
This is very demoralizing. I can't bring myself to go back to hotmail, but I won't say I haven't had passing thoughts about it.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Term Limits? Well, Something Here is Limited.
In a recent discussion about the election, which devolved, as they sometimes do, into a dodge about the Charter in general, Bryan Cooper sort of offered a suggestion. I say "sort of," because Bryan seemed to say it was someone else's idea, not his. As is typical for him, however, he never says who the someone else is, so we never know where he gets his material.
As a frame of reference for this discussion, Bryan gives every indication that he does not think we should move the election. He's gone so far as to say that he thinks it's of great value to have elections in which abnormally few people vote, because these elections attract, according to Bryan's argument, a specialized class of voter. Bryan thinks these voters are the really devoted and presumably knowledgeable ones. He announced in a Commission meeting that he actually doesn't want the rest of us voting. (Oh yes, he did.)
Bryan's suggestion, or the suggestion from whoever provides Bryan's material, is that we should have term limits for Commissioners. Now I have to say, I don't know what Bryan, or his handlers, or the brains of the operation, meant by this suggestion, since as far as I could tell, Bryan was looking directly at Bob Anderson when he said it. So it's an open question whether Bryan, or whoever, just thought no Commissioner should serve for a very long time, or if he/they meant this personally about Bob. But since Bryan, etc, proposed this as a possible Charter change, it's clear he/they are OK with applying it to everyone.
But here's the problem. If Bryan (+?) wants to impose term limits, then what he/they is/are saying is that the voters are too timid, brain dead, sheepish, or whatever, to impose limits them/ourselves, simply by voting out people who are no longer doing the Village a service. Bryan, and whoever props him up, evidently think the voters need to be saved from them/ourselves.
I guess you can see the flaw in the "logic." If Bryan and his thinkers think we attract such knowledgeable voters, and so much so that their brilliant efforts should not be "diluted" (yup, that's the word Bryan used) by the dimwits of the neighborhood, which is most of us, according to Bryan, then why does he think we're so stupid that we don't know enough to vote out someone who is no good?
And what about the people the voters seem perfectly capable of not re-electing? How is it we're smart enough to bounce those, but too moronic to refuse to re-elect others?
I think Bryan's suggestion needs some serious work, and Bryan should probably go back to the people who filled his head with this idiotic nonsense, and ask them for something a little more coherent. And Bryan should care what I think. I'm one of the geniuses who come out to vote in BP elections.
As a frame of reference for this discussion, Bryan gives every indication that he does not think we should move the election. He's gone so far as to say that he thinks it's of great value to have elections in which abnormally few people vote, because these elections attract, according to Bryan's argument, a specialized class of voter. Bryan thinks these voters are the really devoted and presumably knowledgeable ones. He announced in a Commission meeting that he actually doesn't want the rest of us voting. (Oh yes, he did.)
Bryan's suggestion, or the suggestion from whoever provides Bryan's material, is that we should have term limits for Commissioners. Now I have to say, I don't know what Bryan, or his handlers, or the brains of the operation, meant by this suggestion, since as far as I could tell, Bryan was looking directly at Bob Anderson when he said it. So it's an open question whether Bryan, or whoever, just thought no Commissioner should serve for a very long time, or if he/they meant this personally about Bob. But since Bryan, etc, proposed this as a possible Charter change, it's clear he/they are OK with applying it to everyone.
But here's the problem. If Bryan (+?) wants to impose term limits, then what he/they is/are saying is that the voters are too timid, brain dead, sheepish, or whatever, to impose limits them/ourselves, simply by voting out people who are no longer doing the Village a service. Bryan, and whoever props him up, evidently think the voters need to be saved from them/ourselves.
I guess you can see the flaw in the "logic." If Bryan and his thinkers think we attract such knowledgeable voters, and so much so that their brilliant efforts should not be "diluted" (yup, that's the word Bryan used) by the dimwits of the neighborhood, which is most of us, according to Bryan, then why does he think we're so stupid that we don't know enough to vote out someone who is no good?
And what about the people the voters seem perfectly capable of not re-electing? How is it we're smart enough to bounce those, but too moronic to refuse to re-elect others?
I think Bryan's suggestion needs some serious work, and Bryan should probably go back to the people who filled his head with this idiotic nonsense, and ask them for something a little more coherent. And Bryan should care what I think. I'm one of the geniuses who come out to vote in BP elections.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Kebab
Hi, My name is Fred, and I eat too much. To enable my addiction, I find places that let me eat as much as I want, and don't charge too much. The only other thing I ask is that the food, which I want plentiful and relatively cheap, be good. That's not too much to ask, is it?
I already told you about Kebab ("Eats"). It's an Indian restaurant at the corner of 167th and NE 6th (just west of the southwest corner), and it's been there, in one incarnation or another, for decades. (Get it? Indian restaurant, incarnation? Never mind.) And the reason I know it's been there for decades is that I have been eating there for decades. When I used to live on Miami Beach, when I was home visiting during the time I lived in Massachusetts, and since I came back in 2005. I used to eat dinner there, and I almost always got the vegetarian dinner in "thali." (A round metal tray with compartments, and it contained the whole dinner.) It wasn't easy to finish, and it was exceptionally good. Now, I go there for lunch. They're open Tuesday through Sunday, and they serve the all-you-can-eat (ah, my specialty) buffet lunch on weekdays: Tuesday through Friday.
I'm a little ashamed to tell you how much it costs, but not much more ashamed than to think about how much I eat. Let's just say that their charge, and my appetite, are a crime. It costs just under $10.
So that's requirement #1 and requirement #2. The satisfaction of requirement #3 is something like this. The range of dishes is about standard for Indian restaurants, especially for lunch buffets. The soup is usually either mulligatawny or lentil. Occasionally, it's vegetable. I suppose it depends on the chef's mood, or who knows what else, but the quality is not the same every time. It ranges anywhere from very good to spectacular. Today, the soup happened to be lentil, and it was spectacular. For me, a detectable amount of heat (spiciness) pushes it up to spectacular.
Then, there's the main event. They have many different veggie dishes, including simple basmati rice, cabbage with peas, mixed vegetables, okra today (excellent; one of my all time favorites), and a couple of others I can't remember off hand. Oh, spinach sometimes. There's also regular salad, of the lettuce, tomato, and cucumber variety. They don't have conventional salad dressing, but they do have tamarind sauce and mint sauce, which make great salad dressing. They always have appetizers, which are either samosas or pakoras. Either one is good, but the samosas are better. There's excellent onion chutney for those.
The special veggie dish is pumpkin. It's served only Tuesdays and Fridays, and it is not to be missed. It is why I typically aim myself preferentially to be there on a Tuesday or a Friday.
Then, they have meat dishes. There's chicken curry and sometimes tilapia with vegetables. The latter is magnificent. Of course they have tandoori chicken, which is as good as can be. The killer meat dish, though, and worth the price of admission all by itself, is the goat curry. I don't know if they do this for the West Indians in the neighborhood, or they just like it, but it's wonderful.
I didn't tell you about the nan (essentially pita bread), but you figured that out for yourself. They don't have the specialty breads on the lunch buffet.
Finally, there's dessert. You're stuffed already, and I'm still eating. Sorry. They have two desserts. It's either rice pudding or gulab jamun. I can never figure out which day is which one, or maybe it's just whatever they feel like. Anyway, you can't miss. The gulab jamun is as good as gulab jamun ever is (and nice and soft, not gritty, on the inside), and the rice pudding is better than most anywhere else.
I hope I have a few more decades, because I've become somewhat reliant on Kebab. I'm addicted to them.
I already told you about Kebab ("Eats"). It's an Indian restaurant at the corner of 167th and NE 6th (just west of the southwest corner), and it's been there, in one incarnation or another, for decades. (Get it? Indian restaurant, incarnation? Never mind.) And the reason I know it's been there for decades is that I have been eating there for decades. When I used to live on Miami Beach, when I was home visiting during the time I lived in Massachusetts, and since I came back in 2005. I used to eat dinner there, and I almost always got the vegetarian dinner in "thali." (A round metal tray with compartments, and it contained the whole dinner.) It wasn't easy to finish, and it was exceptionally good. Now, I go there for lunch. They're open Tuesday through Sunday, and they serve the all-you-can-eat (ah, my specialty) buffet lunch on weekdays: Tuesday through Friday.
I'm a little ashamed to tell you how much it costs, but not much more ashamed than to think about how much I eat. Let's just say that their charge, and my appetite, are a crime. It costs just under $10.
So that's requirement #1 and requirement #2. The satisfaction of requirement #3 is something like this. The range of dishes is about standard for Indian restaurants, especially for lunch buffets. The soup is usually either mulligatawny or lentil. Occasionally, it's vegetable. I suppose it depends on the chef's mood, or who knows what else, but the quality is not the same every time. It ranges anywhere from very good to spectacular. Today, the soup happened to be lentil, and it was spectacular. For me, a detectable amount of heat (spiciness) pushes it up to spectacular.
Then, there's the main event. They have many different veggie dishes, including simple basmati rice, cabbage with peas, mixed vegetables, okra today (excellent; one of my all time favorites), and a couple of others I can't remember off hand. Oh, spinach sometimes. There's also regular salad, of the lettuce, tomato, and cucumber variety. They don't have conventional salad dressing, but they do have tamarind sauce and mint sauce, which make great salad dressing. They always have appetizers, which are either samosas or pakoras. Either one is good, but the samosas are better. There's excellent onion chutney for those.
The special veggie dish is pumpkin. It's served only Tuesdays and Fridays, and it is not to be missed. It is why I typically aim myself preferentially to be there on a Tuesday or a Friday.
Then, they have meat dishes. There's chicken curry and sometimes tilapia with vegetables. The latter is magnificent. Of course they have tandoori chicken, which is as good as can be. The killer meat dish, though, and worth the price of admission all by itself, is the goat curry. I don't know if they do this for the West Indians in the neighborhood, or they just like it, but it's wonderful.
I didn't tell you about the nan (essentially pita bread), but you figured that out for yourself. They don't have the specialty breads on the lunch buffet.
Finally, there's dessert. You're stuffed already, and I'm still eating. Sorry. They have two desserts. It's either rice pudding or gulab jamun. I can never figure out which day is which one, or maybe it's just whatever they feel like. Anyway, you can't miss. The gulab jamun is as good as gulab jamun ever is (and nice and soft, not gritty, on the inside), and the rice pudding is better than most anywhere else.
I hope I have a few more decades, because I've become somewhat reliant on Kebab. I'm addicted to them.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Clearly, this is not a secret anyone should want to keep. So I'm blabbing it to you.
They call themselves MISO, but I think MiSO is more accurate. According to their press package, the Miami Symphony Orchestra has been in existence since 1989. Their second director/conductor, Eduardo Marturet, took over in 2006.
I saw them for the first time tonight. I'll tell you what's official, what's inside dope, and what I thought. They claim to have 80 elite musicians, and they bill themselves as "the cultural flagship in Miami." They perform in four auditoria: the Arsht, where I saw them tonight, an auditorium at FIU, the hall where the New World Symphony performs on Lincoln Road, and South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center (SMDCAC), way down US1. I had never heard of them until about two weeks ago.
I went to an unrelated concert at the U of M, and I happened to meet one of their percussionists, who was a spectator, like I was, at the concert. We got to talking, and that's how I found out about MiSO. The dirt is this: MiSO was bogged down for a long time by its original mission: to be an Hispanic orchestra. All the musicians were Hispanic. Clearly, this limited the pool of available musicians, and my acquaintance confided in me that the orchestra was not great. I don't remember if he said they were bad, but he might have. When Marturet, who is a high class conductor, took over, he made it his mission, and the mission of the orchestra, to be good. As best I can tell, "great" was perfectly acceptable. So he stepped up the program, and cycled out the weaker musicians. He replaced them with high quality people. Now, says my acquaintance, MiSO's goal is to be "the resident orchestra of Miami." He considers them, with a certain amount of disappointment and frustration, to be "Miami's best kept secret."
The nexus here is that my acquaintance was such a good ambassador for his orchestra that I decided to try them out. I bought myself a season ticket, which was on sale for half price, and tonight's concert was the season opener.
I want to digress for a moment. A few years ago, I saw the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra at the Arsht, and the guest conductor was Giancarlo Guerrero. Their regular conductor is Franz Welser-Must, who is great. He's a bit low key, somewhat like Michael Tilson Thomas. But he does a fine job. Giancarlo Guerrero has a totally different style. I've never seen a conductor like him, until... He's fabulous. He's all style. He's very enthusiastic, he essentially dances while he conducts, and he is totally engaging, to the audience as well as the orchestra. That is Eduardo Marturet. If you want to have a ton of fun at a symphony orchestra concert, go see Eduardo Marturet and MiSO. You'll smile throughout the concert.
And the orchestra? Every bit as good, and every bit as enthusiastic. Robin Williams was talking about something else in "Death to Smoochy," when he used the phrase "small, but powerful." MiSO all over. Small, but powerful. And it's not just the playing of music. In his introduction to one piece, Marturet gave some explanation, to prepare the audience for a full appreciation of the piece, then he had various musicians who would have leading roles in the piece talk about their parts. It was wonderful. Totally engaging. "Up close and personal." Michael Tilson Thomas on crack, as the kids say. The Cleveland Symphony is bigger than MiSO, but I don't know that they're any better. This was about as pleasing as a symphony orchestra concert could be. And I'd tell you it was about half the price of the Cleveland Symphony, but since I got the half price deal, it was about a quarter of the price.
The program tonight: They opened with Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto #3. The infamously hard "Rach 3." The soloist was a Russian guy who does his thing in the NY area, plus lots of travelling. And he's young. My percussionist friend says this pianist was his idea, a friend of his from his own NY days. He convinced Marturet to give him a shot. Reportedly, Marturet is now smitten. So am I. He's a bit showy and loves sequins (on his tuxedo and on his shoes), and he plays like a dream. Just great.
Then, after the intermission, they played an interesting Sibelius "Symphony" (four movements somehow compressed into one), followed by Kodaly dances, which included the solos and other features that were described by Marturet and his musicians.
I don't know what more to say. The choice of pieces was unusual and completely satisfying, the musicianship left nothing to be desired, and Marturet is spell-binding. Whatever they could have wanted him to do for the orchestra, he did it. All that's left is for people to get it, and come to the concerts. They couldn't make them any better. And somebody knows how good this is. The Arsht doesn't fool around with what they put in the Knight Concert Hall. That's where I heard the Cleveland Symphony.
Four of the nine concerts for this year are in the Arsht. The others are all split, so you have a choice between two venues on successive nights. When my choice included SMDCAC, I chose the other venue. Not that there's anything wrong with SMDCAC; it's just a long way to go. If the choice included the New World auditorium, I chose that one for the same reason: it's shorter than going to FIU. Do yourself a favor. Check 'em out.
I saw them for the first time tonight. I'll tell you what's official, what's inside dope, and what I thought. They claim to have 80 elite musicians, and they bill themselves as "the cultural flagship in Miami." They perform in four auditoria: the Arsht, where I saw them tonight, an auditorium at FIU, the hall where the New World Symphony performs on Lincoln Road, and South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center (SMDCAC), way down US1. I had never heard of them until about two weeks ago.
I went to an unrelated concert at the U of M, and I happened to meet one of their percussionists, who was a spectator, like I was, at the concert. We got to talking, and that's how I found out about MiSO. The dirt is this: MiSO was bogged down for a long time by its original mission: to be an Hispanic orchestra. All the musicians were Hispanic. Clearly, this limited the pool of available musicians, and my acquaintance confided in me that the orchestra was not great. I don't remember if he said they were bad, but he might have. When Marturet, who is a high class conductor, took over, he made it his mission, and the mission of the orchestra, to be good. As best I can tell, "great" was perfectly acceptable. So he stepped up the program, and cycled out the weaker musicians. He replaced them with high quality people. Now, says my acquaintance, MiSO's goal is to be "the resident orchestra of Miami." He considers them, with a certain amount of disappointment and frustration, to be "Miami's best kept secret."
The nexus here is that my acquaintance was such a good ambassador for his orchestra that I decided to try them out. I bought myself a season ticket, which was on sale for half price, and tonight's concert was the season opener.
I want to digress for a moment. A few years ago, I saw the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra at the Arsht, and the guest conductor was Giancarlo Guerrero. Their regular conductor is Franz Welser-Must, who is great. He's a bit low key, somewhat like Michael Tilson Thomas. But he does a fine job. Giancarlo Guerrero has a totally different style. I've never seen a conductor like him, until... He's fabulous. He's all style. He's very enthusiastic, he essentially dances while he conducts, and he is totally engaging, to the audience as well as the orchestra. That is Eduardo Marturet. If you want to have a ton of fun at a symphony orchestra concert, go see Eduardo Marturet and MiSO. You'll smile throughout the concert.
And the orchestra? Every bit as good, and every bit as enthusiastic. Robin Williams was talking about something else in "Death to Smoochy," when he used the phrase "small, but powerful." MiSO all over. Small, but powerful. And it's not just the playing of music. In his introduction to one piece, Marturet gave some explanation, to prepare the audience for a full appreciation of the piece, then he had various musicians who would have leading roles in the piece talk about their parts. It was wonderful. Totally engaging. "Up close and personal." Michael Tilson Thomas on crack, as the kids say. The Cleveland Symphony is bigger than MiSO, but I don't know that they're any better. This was about as pleasing as a symphony orchestra concert could be. And I'd tell you it was about half the price of the Cleveland Symphony, but since I got the half price deal, it was about a quarter of the price.
The program tonight: They opened with Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto #3. The infamously hard "Rach 3." The soloist was a Russian guy who does his thing in the NY area, plus lots of travelling. And he's young. My percussionist friend says this pianist was his idea, a friend of his from his own NY days. He convinced Marturet to give him a shot. Reportedly, Marturet is now smitten. So am I. He's a bit showy and loves sequins (on his tuxedo and on his shoes), and he plays like a dream. Just great.
Then, after the intermission, they played an interesting Sibelius "Symphony" (four movements somehow compressed into one), followed by Kodaly dances, which included the solos and other features that were described by Marturet and his musicians.
I don't know what more to say. The choice of pieces was unusual and completely satisfying, the musicianship left nothing to be desired, and Marturet is spell-binding. Whatever they could have wanted him to do for the orchestra, he did it. All that's left is for people to get it, and come to the concerts. They couldn't make them any better. And somebody knows how good this is. The Arsht doesn't fool around with what they put in the Knight Concert Hall. That's where I heard the Cleveland Symphony.
Four of the nine concerts for this year are in the Arsht. The others are all split, so you have a choice between two venues on successive nights. When my choice included SMDCAC, I chose the other venue. Not that there's anything wrong with SMDCAC; it's just a long way to go. If the choice included the New World auditorium, I chose that one for the same reason: it's shorter than going to FIU. Do yourself a favor. Check 'em out.
I Got a Gripe. So What's New, Right?
Remember I told you about the recent Code change workshop ("All Politics Are Local")? Well, here's something that happened there. We were talking about removing dead trees from swales. The issue was who was going to pay for the removal: the homeowner, or the Village. I said, "We're all in this together." (It's one of my sustaining personal philosophies.) Jeane Bergeron turned to glare at me, and she said, "No, we're not." But Jeane, you thought we were all in it together when you wanted all of us to pay, through our taxes, to remove the dead tree in your swale. So this is just a one-way street, huh? When it's a dead tree in your swale, we're all in it together. When it's a dead tree in someone else's swale, they're on their own?
So back to my philosophy, which I admit is mine, and no one else is required to share it. First of all, I figure we really are all in this together. By virtue of agreeing to live together, in a municipality, which has rules we agree to follow, and which levies taxes we agree to pay, we declare ourselves in this together. Now I know that at best, not every one of us will have such fellow feeling, but it seems to me that many of us should. Many of us do. We show up for things, we serve as volunteers on committees, we make extra little contributions for no other reason than that we want to support each other.
And if that applies to many of us, or some of us, there are some who we should imagine, or I imagine, would be the most dedicated and devoted of all. Not to minimize my own dedication, or that of any of the rest of us who participate in the heavy lifting, but some of us seek Representative status, as elected officials. They put themselves "out there" as wanting, and presumably thinking they deserve, special recognition, and the little honorarium that goes with it. Yes, they take our money, and they get to be Commissioners. Who in this Village should be more dedicated than that? If, as Orwell said, we're all equal, but some are more equal than others, then our Commissioners are the most "equal" of all.
So here's my gripe. Of our Commissioners, the majority refuse to donate money to public art in the Village. Two of the five won't even donate $20 a year to the Foundation. $20 a year? We pay them $2000 or $4000 a year. Really? They can't "give back" $20 a year? So what do they do? They're supposed to come to Commission meetings (duh), but one of them is a little light on that fundamental responsibility. Am I wrong to think they should bother themselves to come to Village events? One (Cooper) outright refuses, and says so! Another (Jacobs) is usually not there. One (Watts) shows up for pretty much everything. And two (Ross and Anderson) go way above and beyond. But I'm looking for all five of them to show maximum devotion. They're our Commissioners! Shouldn't they really, really care about the Village? One Commissioner, the Mayor (!), has never ever served on a committee or work group for the Village. He never even bothered himself to vote in a Village "stand-alone" election until he voted for himself. There's every indication that he not only doesn't really, really care about the Village, but frankly, that he couldn't care less. Another Commissioner, Cooper, served on one ad hoc group briefly, did not get his way on one issue, and has acknowledged being on a campaign to punish the Village for disrespecting him. The campaign includes wasting time, fomenting unrest and misery, draining the Village of money, accusing people of everything under the sun, and refusing to show up for anything. Doesn't really, really care about the Village? Couldn't care less? He's actively at war against the Village. It's a war he declared!
The Mayor is the one who gets to have the most prerogative, and he's the one who gets the $4000 a year. Is this just some kind of thrill for him, and for the winner of the "Least Devoted" competition? They're both good with getting the power and the money, but "not so much" when it comes to lifting a finger or sliding the Village a few bucks. And the Mayor has been talking about running for re-election! Seriously? You got nothing for us, but you'd like more for yourself? We haven't heard from Cooper yet, as to whether he'd like another ride.
What am I missing here? If I got this wrong, or my logic is faulty, I want to know about it. I want someone to tell me, and to explain it so I understand it.
So back to my philosophy, which I admit is mine, and no one else is required to share it. First of all, I figure we really are all in this together. By virtue of agreeing to live together, in a municipality, which has rules we agree to follow, and which levies taxes we agree to pay, we declare ourselves in this together. Now I know that at best, not every one of us will have such fellow feeling, but it seems to me that many of us should. Many of us do. We show up for things, we serve as volunteers on committees, we make extra little contributions for no other reason than that we want to support each other.
And if that applies to many of us, or some of us, there are some who we should imagine, or I imagine, would be the most dedicated and devoted of all. Not to minimize my own dedication, or that of any of the rest of us who participate in the heavy lifting, but some of us seek Representative status, as elected officials. They put themselves "out there" as wanting, and presumably thinking they deserve, special recognition, and the little honorarium that goes with it. Yes, they take our money, and they get to be Commissioners. Who in this Village should be more dedicated than that? If, as Orwell said, we're all equal, but some are more equal than others, then our Commissioners are the most "equal" of all.
So here's my gripe. Of our Commissioners, the majority refuse to donate money to public art in the Village. Two of the five won't even donate $20 a year to the Foundation. $20 a year? We pay them $2000 or $4000 a year. Really? They can't "give back" $20 a year? So what do they do? They're supposed to come to Commission meetings (duh), but one of them is a little light on that fundamental responsibility. Am I wrong to think they should bother themselves to come to Village events? One (Cooper) outright refuses, and says so! Another (Jacobs) is usually not there. One (Watts) shows up for pretty much everything. And two (Ross and Anderson) go way above and beyond. But I'm looking for all five of them to show maximum devotion. They're our Commissioners! Shouldn't they really, really care about the Village? One Commissioner, the Mayor (!), has never ever served on a committee or work group for the Village. He never even bothered himself to vote in a Village "stand-alone" election until he voted for himself. There's every indication that he not only doesn't really, really care about the Village, but frankly, that he couldn't care less. Another Commissioner, Cooper, served on one ad hoc group briefly, did not get his way on one issue, and has acknowledged being on a campaign to punish the Village for disrespecting him. The campaign includes wasting time, fomenting unrest and misery, draining the Village of money, accusing people of everything under the sun, and refusing to show up for anything. Doesn't really, really care about the Village? Couldn't care less? He's actively at war against the Village. It's a war he declared!
The Mayor is the one who gets to have the most prerogative, and he's the one who gets the $4000 a year. Is this just some kind of thrill for him, and for the winner of the "Least Devoted" competition? They're both good with getting the power and the money, but "not so much" when it comes to lifting a finger or sliding the Village a few bucks. And the Mayor has been talking about running for re-election! Seriously? You got nothing for us, but you'd like more for yourself? We haven't heard from Cooper yet, as to whether he'd like another ride.
What am I missing here? If I got this wrong, or my logic is faulty, I want to know about it. I want someone to tell me, and to explain it so I understand it.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Letter Sent to Noah Jacobs. (Why is This Matter So Intriguing?)
Noah,
Apparently, there is a story going around the Village, regarding the goings-on at a recent Commission meeting. I hope you will agree with me that the story is an incorrect rumor. As I hear it, the story is that the Mayor had a resident escorted out of a meeting, and the escort was the police. The last time I heard this rumor spread was today.
Having attended all recent Commission meetings, except the one in July, I don't remember that any resident was escorted out of a meeting. (I've actually never heard of such a thing happening in BP.) I do recall a recent episode when the Mayor, pathetically taking the bait from a resident the Mayor was trying to suppress, asked the Police Chief to escort the resident out, but the resident finished his comments and sat down without being escorted out. Whether this is an example of the resident's having more civility and gracefulness than the Mayor is a matter for interpretation, but it's the episode that comes closest to a resident being escorted out that I can think of.
I'm curious as to whether you think the Mayor was right to threaten a resident with expulsion. My memory of the episode is that the resident's misbehavior was talking more than three minutes, and addressing a topic the Mayor decided was not pertinent to the discussion at hand. I'm guessing you do think the Mayor was right, since the Mayor, you, did not apologize to the resident, or to the neighborhood, for your behavior.
In the event that you do think you were right, I wonder how you would think back on an episode in which another resident, you, raged around during a Commission meeting, far exceeding the three minute limit, going way off topic, yelling, and preventing the meeting from proceeding, accosting both the then Mayor and the Village Manager. And I wonder how you would think about the current Mayor, coincidentally also you, erupting into another temper tantrum during a Commission meeting and preventing another Commissioner from delivering her comments and asking questions.
Do you think the prior Mayor was wrong not to have threatened you with expulsion last fall? Do you think the prior Mayor should have been tougher, less accommodating, more controlling, more prone to managing residents who could not function within appropriate decorum? Do you think the Commission as a whole was wrong not to have had you expelled a few months ago, during your more recent eruption? Do you fault the current Commission for not insisting on a higher level of civility and decorum?
Fred
Correction. I said the resident the Mayor threatened with expulsion sat down, because he had finished his comments. I have been reminded that the resident had not finished his comments. As it apparently turns out, the resident likes the Police Chief and did not want to put the Chief in the position of having to escort him out. So he simply sat down. It seems like a small matter to me, but I have been advised to get this right. So now it's right: the Mayor did in fact suppress the resident from saying whatever it was the resident wanted to say.
Editorial Note: Over the years, many residents have spoken at Commission meetings. Some have been matter-of-fact, some appreciative, some droning, some angry, some threatening. Some were concise, some discursive. The resident in question above was certainly somewhere within that broad range of styles and tones. The unusual, unheard-of factor was the Mayor. Never in the history of BP has a Mayor, or the Commission as a whole, moved to expel a resident from a meeting for doing no more than speaking his mind, and speaking it in a purely civil, non-threatening way.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Reasons Not to Move the Election
#1: Cold, Not Neighborly, No Charm!
The argument presumably is that having our BP election as part of the general election is uninspiring. It doesn't spark that neighborhood feeling, when we BP neighbors are interested in our own issues, and our own election. Well, if that's what we want, it's apparently not working. The plain fact of the matter is that only about half of demonstrated BP voters will vote in the BP-only, "stand alone" election. So somebody is not very charmed by our doing it the way we do it.
#2: Too Much Confusion!
I don't know how you manage the task of choosing positions and candidates and voting for them, but I'll tell you how I do it. I listen, read, research (to the extent that I care to), and consider in advance for whom and for what I want to vote. When I get to the voting booth, I already know everything I want to do. I'm just looking down the list to find the contests on which I'm going to vote. To be perfectly honest, it's pretty easy. I hope I'm not insulting anyone. It's just not confusing at all.
#3: Too Many Signs!
BP candidates who order a lot of signs usually order and place about 100. Some candidates only order about 50. But let's say, for purpose of discussion, that every candidate orders and places 100 signs. And let's say there are five candidates running, as there were in the last BP election. That's 500 signs. That averages one sign in front of less than half the houses in BP. And since most people who post signs post more than one, it's even fewer houses. Not exactly an overwhelming eyesore, and it's for about one month. Now add in the non-BP signs. This year, and this month, are The Big One!! It's the election of the President of the United States. And a US Senator. Go look around. Let me know how many signs you see. I'm estimating maybe 10-12, for the whole Village. And the argument was what?
#4: BP Candidates Can't Get Your Attention, When You're Frying Bigger Fish!
How many people knocked on your door so far this month, asking you to vote for Romney, or Obama? No? None for me, either. What about last October-November? How many BP candidates knocked on your door, asking you to vote for them? No? Me, neither.
#5 Look, let's call it what it is. When we draw the small crowd of voters, we deal with the cognoscenti, the truly informed voter, the one with his/her finger on the pulse of this community. "Y' folla'?"*
So let's think back. Have we few, with our ultra careful and wise system, managed to elect any real losers as Commissioners? Have we ever elected someone, then, by the next election, decided we got it wrong? How much better are we few doing, how much more wise and discerning are we, than if everyone in the Village came out to vote?
Vote Yes on #258. Let's move the election. Let's save our Village money, and get ourselves a much bigger turnout. And let's make life easier for ourselves. Why come to the polls twice, when you can more easily accomplish the same goals by coming to the polls once?
*This means, You Follow? It's like Get It?, You Catch My Drift? It's what Doyle Lonegan kept saying in The Sting.
PS: I'm really looking for a good argument, any argument, anything from anybody, as to why we should keep doing what we're doing. I'm getting nothing at all. Not one person steps forward to explain why what we're going is a good idea. Not one. And believe me, I've asked. A lot.
The argument presumably is that having our BP election as part of the general election is uninspiring. It doesn't spark that neighborhood feeling, when we BP neighbors are interested in our own issues, and our own election. Well, if that's what we want, it's apparently not working. The plain fact of the matter is that only about half of demonstrated BP voters will vote in the BP-only, "stand alone" election. So somebody is not very charmed by our doing it the way we do it.
#2: Too Much Confusion!
I don't know how you manage the task of choosing positions and candidates and voting for them, but I'll tell you how I do it. I listen, read, research (to the extent that I care to), and consider in advance for whom and for what I want to vote. When I get to the voting booth, I already know everything I want to do. I'm just looking down the list to find the contests on which I'm going to vote. To be perfectly honest, it's pretty easy. I hope I'm not insulting anyone. It's just not confusing at all.
#3: Too Many Signs!
BP candidates who order a lot of signs usually order and place about 100. Some candidates only order about 50. But let's say, for purpose of discussion, that every candidate orders and places 100 signs. And let's say there are five candidates running, as there were in the last BP election. That's 500 signs. That averages one sign in front of less than half the houses in BP. And since most people who post signs post more than one, it's even fewer houses. Not exactly an overwhelming eyesore, and it's for about one month. Now add in the non-BP signs. This year, and this month, are The Big One!! It's the election of the President of the United States. And a US Senator. Go look around. Let me know how many signs you see. I'm estimating maybe 10-12, for the whole Village. And the argument was what?
#4: BP Candidates Can't Get Your Attention, When You're Frying Bigger Fish!
How many people knocked on your door so far this month, asking you to vote for Romney, or Obama? No? None for me, either. What about last October-November? How many BP candidates knocked on your door, asking you to vote for them? No? Me, neither.
#5 Look, let's call it what it is. When we draw the small crowd of voters, we deal with the cognoscenti, the truly informed voter, the one with his/her finger on the pulse of this community. "Y' folla'?"*
So let's think back. Have we few, with our ultra careful and wise system, managed to elect any real losers as Commissioners? Have we ever elected someone, then, by the next election, decided we got it wrong? How much better are we few doing, how much more wise and discerning are we, than if everyone in the Village came out to vote?
Vote Yes on #258. Let's move the election. Let's save our Village money, and get ourselves a much bigger turnout. And let's make life easier for ourselves. Why come to the polls twice, when you can more easily accomplish the same goals by coming to the polls once?
*This means, You Follow? It's like Get It?, You Catch My Drift? It's what Doyle Lonegan kept saying in The Sting.
PS: I'm really looking for a good argument, any argument, anything from anybody, as to why we should keep doing what we're doing. I'm getting nothing at all. Not one person steps forward to explain why what we're going is a good idea. Not one. And believe me, I've asked. A lot.
Monday, October 15, 2012
TKO?
I think we should move the BP election, to make it cheaper for the Village, and to draw more voters.
Steve Bernard thinks we should leave it as it is, for whatever are his reasons.
Barbara Watts told me Steve told her he would consent to a public discussion about the matter. Maybe even a debate.
I figured Steve would like the chance to demonstrate how weak my argument is, and how persuasive his is.
Steve never contacted me to arrange such a thing. Neither did Barbara.
So do I win? Did he forfeit? Is it his way of saying he's got nothin'?
Steve Bernard thinks we should leave it as it is, for whatever are his reasons.
Barbara Watts told me Steve told her he would consent to a public discussion about the matter. Maybe even a debate.
I figured Steve would like the chance to demonstrate how weak my argument is, and how persuasive his is.
Steve never contacted me to arrange such a thing. Neither did Barbara.
So do I win? Did he forfeit? Is it his way of saying he's got nothin'?
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Ouzo's
Ouzo's is the old/new name of a Greek restaurant not far from us. It was Ouzo's on Miami Beach, then came to 78th Street off Biscayne and became Anise Taverna, then was briefly RiverShack, and is now Ouzo's again. The proprietress is Liza Meli.
Anise Taverna was a wonderful Greek restaurant. It was typical in some ways, but unique in others. The food was always first rate, the setting was charming, and the service was most welcoming. The food was more or less standard Greek, but with homey and unusual touches. The reason was Liza's attachment to her mother, who is Greek and a great cook. So Liza provided the recipes, compliments of her mother, and a succession of chefs cooked them. As far as I'm concerned, all the chefs did a good or great job. Margaret was the best, and Amy was a close second. The portions were generous, and there were often extras: little things that are called amuse bouches in another setting. For a long time, it was magnificent olives for the table. Now, it's whatever Liza, or the waitstaff, feel like providing. And if you're a regular, or they just like you, it's even more. It doesn't take long before you feel a little guilty about it, as if the price you pay is not enough to compensate for the welcome you get.
There always was, and still is, the standard Greek menu. Whatever I ever had was excellent. The prices, without the extras, were, and still are, moderate. And the wine list is very satisfying. Some of it is wine you never heard of, but they get deals from vintners they know, or the distributors who work with those vintners, and you wind up with exceptionally good wine for a price lower than you would think for wine that good.
For a while, in the last several months of Anise Taverna, there was a new program. It was called Mediterranean Mondays. Every week, Liza chose a Mediterranean port city, researched the local food, and made up a menu. She and partner Gigi provided a complete dinner, all you could eat, and all the wine you could drink, local to the port country, for $55 per person. These were spectacular and memorable meals. The program eventually went away, for a number of reasons to which I am not privy. Then, Anise Taverna ended.
I'm leaving out RiverShack. It was briefly, is no more, and isn't worth going into.
So now that Liza is on her own, she's gone back to her original name and concept. Ouzo's. She was away for the summer, when RiverShack was gasping, and returned to supervise the RiverShack-to-Ouzo's transformation. Part of her travels took her to her mother, and more recipes. The food is as good as ever. And the prices are still fair or better. In addition to the regular menu, Liza has started a new dining program. She calls it Greek family-style Sundays, which is one of the menu choices on Sunday. (Or, if you like, you can order off the regular menu.) The price for the family-style dinner is now $35, for all you can eat, and all you can drink. Liza tends to serve the same menu every Sunday. It is ample in scope and courses, delicious, and more than you can eat. It's more than I can eat, so I know it's more than you can eat. The wine is now "house wine," but it's perfectly good.
Ouzo's is closed Tuesday, and they only serve dinner. They also sometimes feature live music. And for what it's worth, if you look at their website, and you think Liza is a remarkable dish herself, don't be fooled. She's even better looking in person. How the world's most beautiful couple becomes one of the world's most beautiful women, and doesn't lose anything in the transition, is beyond me.
Anise Taverna was a wonderful Greek restaurant. It was typical in some ways, but unique in others. The food was always first rate, the setting was charming, and the service was most welcoming. The food was more or less standard Greek, but with homey and unusual touches. The reason was Liza's attachment to her mother, who is Greek and a great cook. So Liza provided the recipes, compliments of her mother, and a succession of chefs cooked them. As far as I'm concerned, all the chefs did a good or great job. Margaret was the best, and Amy was a close second. The portions were generous, and there were often extras: little things that are called amuse bouches in another setting. For a long time, it was magnificent olives for the table. Now, it's whatever Liza, or the waitstaff, feel like providing. And if you're a regular, or they just like you, it's even more. It doesn't take long before you feel a little guilty about it, as if the price you pay is not enough to compensate for the welcome you get.
There always was, and still is, the standard Greek menu. Whatever I ever had was excellent. The prices, without the extras, were, and still are, moderate. And the wine list is very satisfying. Some of it is wine you never heard of, but they get deals from vintners they know, or the distributors who work with those vintners, and you wind up with exceptionally good wine for a price lower than you would think for wine that good.
For a while, in the last several months of Anise Taverna, there was a new program. It was called Mediterranean Mondays. Every week, Liza chose a Mediterranean port city, researched the local food, and made up a menu. She and partner Gigi provided a complete dinner, all you could eat, and all the wine you could drink, local to the port country, for $55 per person. These were spectacular and memorable meals. The program eventually went away, for a number of reasons to which I am not privy. Then, Anise Taverna ended.
I'm leaving out RiverShack. It was briefly, is no more, and isn't worth going into.
So now that Liza is on her own, she's gone back to her original name and concept. Ouzo's. She was away for the summer, when RiverShack was gasping, and returned to supervise the RiverShack-to-Ouzo's transformation. Part of her travels took her to her mother, and more recipes. The food is as good as ever. And the prices are still fair or better. In addition to the regular menu, Liza has started a new dining program. She calls it Greek family-style Sundays, which is one of the menu choices on Sunday. (Or, if you like, you can order off the regular menu.) The price for the family-style dinner is now $35, for all you can eat, and all you can drink. Liza tends to serve the same menu every Sunday. It is ample in scope and courses, delicious, and more than you can eat. It's more than I can eat, so I know it's more than you can eat. The wine is now "house wine," but it's perfectly good.
Ouzo's is closed Tuesday, and they only serve dinner. They also sometimes feature live music. And for what it's worth, if you look at their website, and you think Liza is a remarkable dish herself, don't be fooled. She's even better looking in person. How the world's most beautiful couple becomes one of the world's most beautiful women, and doesn't lose anything in the transition, is beyond me.
Friday, October 12, 2012
OK, You Win. Let's Do It Your Way.
Every four years, there are four elections held in our BP Precincts. It's one election every year. Two of them are BP elections, one is a general election that does not include the election of the president, and one is a general election that does include the presidential race.
This year, the election is the big one, the general election that includes the presidential race. Several hundred people from BP will vote. In the other general election, the one two years ago and two years from now, fewer people will vote. In the BP elections, about half of the number that voted in the general elections will vote. So I'm talking to the half of our neighbors who will vote in the general election, but not in the BP election.
And let me be clear. These are interested citizens. They will vote. Most of them will vote when there is no election for president. But of those interested citizens, only half will vote for BP Commissioners, when that's all that's on the ballot. They're telling us something. They need reason enough to bother to come to the polls. Just the BP Commission election all by itself is not reason enough. That's what they've been telling us, persistently, over a long period of time.
Well, they're about to come to the polls. In whatever passes for droves this presidential election year. And a remarkable choice will be there to meet them. They no longer have to miss out on BP elections, because these elections do not offer the "critical mass" necessary to entice them. They can now tell us to move the election, to make it more convenient, and then they'll vote all the time.
Voting is what they should do. It's what we all should do. And what they're telling us is that if we just move the election, they will vote.
So we should all vote to move the election. It helps our neighbors, and it helps democracy. They win: if we want their input, we'll have to make life convenient for them. And since I do want their input, and it's no skin off my nose to make life more convenient for them (and for myself), I'm in.
Vote Yes.
This year, the election is the big one, the general election that includes the presidential race. Several hundred people from BP will vote. In the other general election, the one two years ago and two years from now, fewer people will vote. In the BP elections, about half of the number that voted in the general elections will vote. So I'm talking to the half of our neighbors who will vote in the general election, but not in the BP election.
And let me be clear. These are interested citizens. They will vote. Most of them will vote when there is no election for president. But of those interested citizens, only half will vote for BP Commissioners, when that's all that's on the ballot. They're telling us something. They need reason enough to bother to come to the polls. Just the BP Commission election all by itself is not reason enough. That's what they've been telling us, persistently, over a long period of time.
Well, they're about to come to the polls. In whatever passes for droves this presidential election year. And a remarkable choice will be there to meet them. They no longer have to miss out on BP elections, because these elections do not offer the "critical mass" necessary to entice them. They can now tell us to move the election, to make it more convenient, and then they'll vote all the time.
Voting is what they should do. It's what we all should do. And what they're telling us is that if we just move the election, they will vote.
So we should all vote to move the election. It helps our neighbors, and it helps democracy. They win: if we want their input, we'll have to make life convenient for them. And since I do want their input, and it's no skin off my nose to make life more convenient for them (and for myself), I'm in.
Vote Yes.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
I Really Wouldn't Think So
Here's an "insight" I received from someone who read "The Charm of Fanhood." I'm passing it on, because it was unloaded on me. By a woman reader.
The reader picked up on the reference to "girls," and decided maybe there was a "sexist" (her word) bias going on in BP. My reader decided that the way Roxy Ross has been treated by some around here could betray sexism. Let's examine that idea.
As best I can tell, Steve Bernard thinks he had something to do with Roxy's having been elected. But he probably also had something to do with Bryan Cooper's having been elected. He may have treated both of them like irrelevant underlings, but there is nothing to suggest he would have treated Roxy with less "respect" than he showed Bryan. He gave Roxy vastly more trouble-- trainloads for her, as opposed to none for Bryan-- but we have every reason to think it's because she crossed him by accepting the Mayoralty and not being a dutiful sycophant, not because she's a woman. It's true that Bryan is a male, but he is a dutiful sycophant, so no reason to think his gender is what spares him from Steve's vilification. And I think we have every reason to imagine Steve would have been just as incensed if Bryan had stolen the throne out from under him.
And Bryan has given Roxy lots of trouble, too. But again, she betrayed the megalomaniacal fantasies of Bryan's idol. So of course Bryan's on a bent to sabotage her. Again, no reason to see this as "sexist." Bryan, and Steve, too, were just as foul to Bob Anderson and Al Childress as they were to Roxy. Well, not "just" as foul. But A & C did not get in B & C's faces, by accepting the Mayoralty out from under B, so I still say there's no smoking "sexist" gun here.
The other example my reader offered was that of Jacobs. Definitely yes, he treats Roxy horribly. He is angry, challenging, suppressing, and grossly immature. I certainly acknowledge all of that. But the question is, is this about sexism? Jacobs' fixation on Roxy started last year, when he came to his first Commission meeting in about September. He came armed with a speech he did not prepare. He arrived at the meeting with the fixation already set, even though he knew nothing about Roxy, or the issues. And not only did he unleash an infantile temper tantrum on her, but he let it leak onto Ana Garcia as well. So in that sense, it could look like blind sexism. But since the material was Steve Bernard's, and had nothing to do with Jacobs, it's hard to assume the issue was sexism on Jacobs' part. He allows both Ana and Eve Boutsis to run meetings for him, so no evidence of sexism there. He seems proud of his wife, and his daughter. Though there is some subtle sense that he relishes his man-of-the-family role with them. Earlier this year, when he aired his pilot video blog, his wife was filmed scratching her butt, and uttering the word "fucking." But he didn't reprimand her, or react in any way, and he didn't even remove the clip until several people asked him to. If he were "sexist," wouldn't he have taken a firmer and more active stance?
It's also true that Jacobs' wife isn't even registered to vote in Dade County. So we would have to wonder what that's all about, and why she doesn't take a more legitimate role in her residence in BP. Is it "sexist" that Jacobs doesn't bother to insist his wife register to vote where she lives, instead of in Broward, or would it be "sexist" if he did?
And what about his persistent mistreatment of Roxy? "Sexist?" I think the dynamic is too murky, too confounded. The fact is, he doesn't treat me any better than he treats Roxy.
So I do recognize the primitive treatment rendered by some to others in BP, but I think sexism is too intellectualized an explanation. In psychoanalytic parlance, some issues are oedipal, and some are pre-oedipal. I really think what we're seeing here is pre-oedipal. I think it's more closely related to what we would call infantile narcissism than a dynamic as evolved as sexism. Just my opinion, because someone asked.
The reader picked up on the reference to "girls," and decided maybe there was a "sexist" (her word) bias going on in BP. My reader decided that the way Roxy Ross has been treated by some around here could betray sexism. Let's examine that idea.
As best I can tell, Steve Bernard thinks he had something to do with Roxy's having been elected. But he probably also had something to do with Bryan Cooper's having been elected. He may have treated both of them like irrelevant underlings, but there is nothing to suggest he would have treated Roxy with less "respect" than he showed Bryan. He gave Roxy vastly more trouble-- trainloads for her, as opposed to none for Bryan-- but we have every reason to think it's because she crossed him by accepting the Mayoralty and not being a dutiful sycophant, not because she's a woman. It's true that Bryan is a male, but he is a dutiful sycophant, so no reason to think his gender is what spares him from Steve's vilification. And I think we have every reason to imagine Steve would have been just as incensed if Bryan had stolen the throne out from under him.
And Bryan has given Roxy lots of trouble, too. But again, she betrayed the megalomaniacal fantasies of Bryan's idol. So of course Bryan's on a bent to sabotage her. Again, no reason to see this as "sexist." Bryan, and Steve, too, were just as foul to Bob Anderson and Al Childress as they were to Roxy. Well, not "just" as foul. But A & C did not get in B & C's faces, by accepting the Mayoralty out from under B, so I still say there's no smoking "sexist" gun here.
The other example my reader offered was that of Jacobs. Definitely yes, he treats Roxy horribly. He is angry, challenging, suppressing, and grossly immature. I certainly acknowledge all of that. But the question is, is this about sexism? Jacobs' fixation on Roxy started last year, when he came to his first Commission meeting in about September. He came armed with a speech he did not prepare. He arrived at the meeting with the fixation already set, even though he knew nothing about Roxy, or the issues. And not only did he unleash an infantile temper tantrum on her, but he let it leak onto Ana Garcia as well. So in that sense, it could look like blind sexism. But since the material was Steve Bernard's, and had nothing to do with Jacobs, it's hard to assume the issue was sexism on Jacobs' part. He allows both Ana and Eve Boutsis to run meetings for him, so no evidence of sexism there. He seems proud of his wife, and his daughter. Though there is some subtle sense that he relishes his man-of-the-family role with them. Earlier this year, when he aired his pilot video blog, his wife was filmed scratching her butt, and uttering the word "fucking." But he didn't reprimand her, or react in any way, and he didn't even remove the clip until several people asked him to. If he were "sexist," wouldn't he have taken a firmer and more active stance?
It's also true that Jacobs' wife isn't even registered to vote in Dade County. So we would have to wonder what that's all about, and why she doesn't take a more legitimate role in her residence in BP. Is it "sexist" that Jacobs doesn't bother to insist his wife register to vote where she lives, instead of in Broward, or would it be "sexist" if he did?
And what about his persistent mistreatment of Roxy? "Sexist?" I think the dynamic is too murky, too confounded. The fact is, he doesn't treat me any better than he treats Roxy.
So I do recognize the primitive treatment rendered by some to others in BP, but I think sexism is too intellectualized an explanation. In psychoanalytic parlance, some issues are oedipal, and some are pre-oedipal. I really think what we're seeing here is pre-oedipal. I think it's more closely related to what we would call infantile narcissism than a dynamic as evolved as sexism. Just my opinion, because someone asked.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
The Charm of Fanhood, or What Price Victory?
Today, I overheard a conversation on an elevator. I wasn't eavesdropping, and it wasn't exactly a conversation, per se. The main speaker, who was happy to crow to anyone, was loud, and he was proud. He was talking to the person who got on the elevator with him, and to all of us.
Apparently, the Dolphins played last night. Apparently, they won. Perhaps, the team they played didn't play well, or was not a good team this year. No matter.
"I don't care if we play a girls' school," announced the fan. "I just want to win."
I can guess what you're thinking. Why would he be just as happy to have the Dolphins play a girls' school? Why would that not diminish the victory? Does he think the Dolphins are such a bad team that even that W would mean something? Hasn't he lost complete appreciation for the game, if all he wants is to win, no matter what? Is it really only about winning, and the whole enterprise is devoid of content and meaning? Is this the kind of regression that happens as part of an "us vs them" conceptualization?
Teams have advantages. Some teams live and work where it's hot and humid, so they're more used to it, others where it's frigid and icy, so they're more used to that, one where life is a "Mile High." Great endurance for them. And every team gets to play half its games at home. These advantages are part of the game. But are there unfair advantages? The Boston Celtics (I know, different sport) cherish their parquet floor. They memorize it and know it intimately. They brought it from the old Boston Garden to the Fleet Center, or TD BankNorth Center, or whatever is the name of that arena now. And they didn't bring it with them because they love the look of parquet. It's because it has dead spots, where a basketball won't bounce normally. Celtics players know where those dead spots are. Visitors don't.
Why am I going on about sports? Because we have an election coming up next month. There's a special issue on the ballot, just for us in BP. It's the last item on the ballot. It's about when we want to vote. Specifically, do we want to keep voting in odd Decembers, or do we want to move to even Novembers. The difference is not as caricaturish as the Dolphins' playing a girls' school. It's much more subtle. It's closer to the Celtics' knowing the dead spots on their floor. It creates a little, but distinct, advantage for them. Like the advantage created by having elections at a time that fewer BP residents will vote. We all could vote in odd Decembers, but the record over a long period of time shows we just won't. Only about half of those who will vote in even Novembers will vote in odd Decembers. That is a reality. And it's possible to exploit that predictable reality.
But we can change that. We can move our election to occur when we're all going to vote anyway, instead of holding it at a time when so many of us simply would not do that little errand, because it's too out of the way, or we're too busy with too many other things. We can move our election to a time when we resolve to suspend those errands, or to go out of our way that day.
In a democracy, voting is our big victory. We don't have to make a mockery out of it, sliding by on technicalities, or beating up on girls.
Apparently, the Dolphins played last night. Apparently, they won. Perhaps, the team they played didn't play well, or was not a good team this year. No matter.
"I don't care if we play a girls' school," announced the fan. "I just want to win."
I can guess what you're thinking. Why would he be just as happy to have the Dolphins play a girls' school? Why would that not diminish the victory? Does he think the Dolphins are such a bad team that even that W would mean something? Hasn't he lost complete appreciation for the game, if all he wants is to win, no matter what? Is it really only about winning, and the whole enterprise is devoid of content and meaning? Is this the kind of regression that happens as part of an "us vs them" conceptualization?
Teams have advantages. Some teams live and work where it's hot and humid, so they're more used to it, others where it's frigid and icy, so they're more used to that, one where life is a "Mile High." Great endurance for them. And every team gets to play half its games at home. These advantages are part of the game. But are there unfair advantages? The Boston Celtics (I know, different sport) cherish their parquet floor. They memorize it and know it intimately. They brought it from the old Boston Garden to the Fleet Center, or TD BankNorth Center, or whatever is the name of that arena now. And they didn't bring it with them because they love the look of parquet. It's because it has dead spots, where a basketball won't bounce normally. Celtics players know where those dead spots are. Visitors don't.
Why am I going on about sports? Because we have an election coming up next month. There's a special issue on the ballot, just for us in BP. It's the last item on the ballot. It's about when we want to vote. Specifically, do we want to keep voting in odd Decembers, or do we want to move to even Novembers. The difference is not as caricaturish as the Dolphins' playing a girls' school. It's much more subtle. It's closer to the Celtics' knowing the dead spots on their floor. It creates a little, but distinct, advantage for them. Like the advantage created by having elections at a time that fewer BP residents will vote. We all could vote in odd Decembers, but the record over a long period of time shows we just won't. Only about half of those who will vote in even Novembers will vote in odd Decembers. That is a reality. And it's possible to exploit that predictable reality.
But we can change that. We can move our election to occur when we're all going to vote anyway, instead of holding it at a time when so many of us simply would not do that little errand, because it's too out of the way, or we're too busy with too many other things. We can move our election to a time when we resolve to suspend those errands, or to go out of our way that day.
In a democracy, voting is our big victory. We don't have to make a mockery out of it, sliding by on technicalities, or beating up on girls.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
What Else Can I Say?
I want to respond to some charges against me, and I want to enter a plea.
The charges boil down to an indictment of my attitude. I am described as "mean-spirited." Some people dislike my confrontation of Noah Jacobs. I am relentless in publicly recalling his introduction to the neighborhood last fall, when he launched into an unrestrained and uncivilized temper tantrum aimed variously at the Mayor and the Village Manager. I have said, publicly and privately to Noah, that he had no business running for office when he did, that he knew nothing about the neighborhood, that he showed no interest in it, and that his acceptance of victories, engineered by someone else, was disrespectful, bordering on contemptuous, toward the Village. (I confessed to someone else recently that I have tried my best to get Noah to resign.) I do not fail to recall as well Noah's other public temper tantrum, after he was given the Mayor's seat, and he lost control, composure, and dignity during a Commission meeting, refusing to let Roxy Ross speak during her turn. He later told her it was clear to him that she cannot get over not being Mayor herself any more, and channeling Andre Pierre, he has suppressed her and the rest of his colleagues by dominating meetings, telling others when they have expressed themselves enough, and when he has had enough of it. He has also made a childish spectacle of himself mistreating and disrespecting the former Mayor, with behaviors like talking about her in Commission meetings while turning his back to her. He lets Commissioners know not only when he insists on a vote, but sometimes what that vote is to be. I accuse him of suffocating meetings with this kind of behavior, unleashed not only toward his colleagues, but also at the public, and I make clear when he is unable to lead a meeting at all. He often relies on others to manage the meetings for him, since he is apparently incapable of doing it himself, and he sat by, silently and impotently, while a recent code workshop got completely out of hand. It appears either to be sickening feast, or life-threatening famine. And I have accused Noah of being disingenuous at best, and grossly hypocritical at worst. He is vastly more tyrannical than any nightmare he ever had about anyone else, and he is deeply antidemocratic.
Which leads me to the other part of the charge against me. I am accused by some of being equally relentless in criticizing Bryan Cooper. Charlie Smith, the resident, not the Finance Director, says I am "mean-spirited." Gaspar Gonzalez says I am "snarky." I would say of Bryan: talk about disingenuousness and hypocrisy... Others might say of me: talk about a hostile fixation... Be that as it may, I have been open in pointing out repeatedly how unprepared Bryan is, how antithetical to the interests of the Village are Bryan's leanings, what waste and sabotage he perpetrates, how little he has to offer and how much he drains the Village, and what a cowardly approach he takes to discourse. The childish and unvarying launching of spitballs, and accusations of everyone (except his friend Noah, and his idol, Steve Bernard), is unbearable. Bryan recently offered a startling insight about his approach to the Village. He told us that his entire posture and tenure as a Commissioner rests on a grudge he has been nursing for three years. One vote, by a prior Commission and an ad hoc committee, didn't go his way, and he has resolved to punish the Village and withhold his services and representation because of that one disappointment. As in Noah's case, I have openly and repeatedly asked him to resign.
So those are the charges. The plea: Guilty. In my defense, if such is possible, I would say I am not mean-spirited. I am disgusted by that which is disgusting, and I want the peaceful and adaptive neighborhood we have every reason to expect to have and enjoy together.
The charges boil down to an indictment of my attitude. I am described as "mean-spirited." Some people dislike my confrontation of Noah Jacobs. I am relentless in publicly recalling his introduction to the neighborhood last fall, when he launched into an unrestrained and uncivilized temper tantrum aimed variously at the Mayor and the Village Manager. I have said, publicly and privately to Noah, that he had no business running for office when he did, that he knew nothing about the neighborhood, that he showed no interest in it, and that his acceptance of victories, engineered by someone else, was disrespectful, bordering on contemptuous, toward the Village. (I confessed to someone else recently that I have tried my best to get Noah to resign.) I do not fail to recall as well Noah's other public temper tantrum, after he was given the Mayor's seat, and he lost control, composure, and dignity during a Commission meeting, refusing to let Roxy Ross speak during her turn. He later told her it was clear to him that she cannot get over not being Mayor herself any more, and channeling Andre Pierre, he has suppressed her and the rest of his colleagues by dominating meetings, telling others when they have expressed themselves enough, and when he has had enough of it. He has also made a childish spectacle of himself mistreating and disrespecting the former Mayor, with behaviors like talking about her in Commission meetings while turning his back to her. He lets Commissioners know not only when he insists on a vote, but sometimes what that vote is to be. I accuse him of suffocating meetings with this kind of behavior, unleashed not only toward his colleagues, but also at the public, and I make clear when he is unable to lead a meeting at all. He often relies on others to manage the meetings for him, since he is apparently incapable of doing it himself, and he sat by, silently and impotently, while a recent code workshop got completely out of hand. It appears either to be sickening feast, or life-threatening famine. And I have accused Noah of being disingenuous at best, and grossly hypocritical at worst. He is vastly more tyrannical than any nightmare he ever had about anyone else, and he is deeply antidemocratic.
Which leads me to the other part of the charge against me. I am accused by some of being equally relentless in criticizing Bryan Cooper. Charlie Smith, the resident, not the Finance Director, says I am "mean-spirited." Gaspar Gonzalez says I am "snarky." I would say of Bryan: talk about disingenuousness and hypocrisy... Others might say of me: talk about a hostile fixation... Be that as it may, I have been open in pointing out repeatedly how unprepared Bryan is, how antithetical to the interests of the Village are Bryan's leanings, what waste and sabotage he perpetrates, how little he has to offer and how much he drains the Village, and what a cowardly approach he takes to discourse. The childish and unvarying launching of spitballs, and accusations of everyone (except his friend Noah, and his idol, Steve Bernard), is unbearable. Bryan recently offered a startling insight about his approach to the Village. He told us that his entire posture and tenure as a Commissioner rests on a grudge he has been nursing for three years. One vote, by a prior Commission and an ad hoc committee, didn't go his way, and he has resolved to punish the Village and withhold his services and representation because of that one disappointment. As in Noah's case, I have openly and repeatedly asked him to resign.
So those are the charges. The plea: Guilty. In my defense, if such is possible, I would say I am not mean-spirited. I am disgusted by that which is disgusting, and I want the peaceful and adaptive neighborhood we have every reason to expect to have and enjoy together.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
"The Blue Collar." Yeah, Right.
Have you been to "The Blue Collar" yet? It's in an old and crummy motel on Biscayne in the 60s, on the west side of the street. 6730, to be exact.
Two people told me to go there. One of them says it serves the best hamburger...there is. I'm not a big hamburger eater, but that kind of nudge delivered often enough gets me in the door.
"The Blue Collar" is, well, blue collar, right? Wrong. Yes, it's low key. The "kitchen" is just the cooking area along one wall. Three cooks, including owner/chef Dan Serfer, mill around and make food. The servers, who, I must say, are drop dead adorable, mill around with the cooks or at their post at the cash register. They all seem very fond of each other, and Dan is not at all too busy to ask you how things are going, and how the food is. And it's a litte noisy. And cramped. Yes, it's all that.
But here's the problem with "The Blue Collar." Actually, there are two problems, if they expect the name to be taken seriously. A divey kind of place, in the old breakfast restaurant of a skanky motel, should not have the best hamburger...there is. Nor should they have exceptionally good french fries to go with it (assuming you don't want vegetables, which was your other choice), and magnificent dipping and hamburger sauce. They shouldn't be allowed to make food that good. But they do, they are, and it is. And whether they do or they don't, they should not charge $13 for the hamburger. I hate being ripped off. Is this a rip-off? Yeah, I guess so, sort of. I don't know. If the hamburger is the best there is, which it is, then it can't be duplicated, so should they charge as much as they want? Not if they want to call themselves "The Blue Collar."
Also, if it's really blue collar, shouldn't diners have dessert? I confess to eating like a horse, and I couldn't have had dessert after my hamburger. I was too full. Which was almost a crime, since the desserts sounded amazing, especially if I should assume that anyone who cooks burgers and fries like that probably makes breathtaking desserts, too. So despite the abusive pricing, I had to go back. This time, I decided to bring reinforcements. Not only do they have a $12 veggie burger I needed to understand, but their specials sound hypnotic. One of my friends told me his wife makes great oxtails, her brother makes them even better, and "The Blue Collar" beats them both.
I'm back. "Strike while the iron is hot." "Better the egg today than the chicken tomorrow." "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." Here's what happens if you don't order the oxtails special the day you're there. When you come back, with your posse, they don't have it that day. So whaddaya gonna do? Get that "veggie burger" you were thinking about, and order the baby back ribs special and the chicken thighs special.
Well, I wouldn't exactly call it a veggie burger. First of all, there's no such thing as a $12 veggie burger. Even fabulous fries don't do that. Second, it tasted more like a gourmet pate than a "veggie burger." And third, it looked more like a meatball, except it was presented on one of their magnificent home made buns and garnished with lettuce, tomato, and onion. (And ask for the spicy dipping sauce. Put it on everything.) So I have to say, if there was such a thing as a $12 veggie burger, which of course there isn't, this would be it. It really was that good. I've had lots of veggie burgers, and none ever was in this kind of league. It was tasty, balanced, and exceptionally well-seasoned. I wouldn't say anyone should order this veggie burger, because no one should pay $12 for a veggie burger, but if you pretend it's a highly adorned pate, then get it.
The baby back ribs were incredible. If I ever wanted ribs other than in Kansas City, these would be the ribs I would want. It's not just the ribs, either, though they were barbequed to perfection. (I'm talking about the actual description, not the trite phrase.) I don't know who made the sauce-- probably Dan-- but wow. And this is not the same deal without the potatoes, which were roasted with bacon and who knows what else. Should this cost $19? No. Can you get it anywhere for less? No. So you have a problem.
I wouldn't have gotten the chicken thighs special, except the waiter (not one of the two adorable ones from last time) highly recommended it. And I already knew we weren't getting the oxtails. We were not sorry. Where does Dan get this stuff? How does someone cook like that? And who invented mashed potatoes that good? Once again, did Dan need to charge $18 for this? I'm thinking not. But there's something about which you can't argue with him. His food is better than anything. And I will tell you this. There were four of us. We ordered those three dishes. It was not easy to finish them. If I hadn't been one of the four, someone would have taken home a good deal of food. And I haven't even told you about dessert.
"Chocolate cake," "bread pudding," and berry cobbler. I don't want you to think I'm fawning, or being hyperbolic, but these desserts were perfect. The ideal dessert should be sweet enough to punctuate a meal, but not too sweet. That's what we're talking about here. We've all had chocolate cake. We've all had good chocolate cake. I, personally, am a "chocoholic." I have had few chocolate cakes that good. We each had some. The rest is in my refrigerator. So considering what restaurants charge for desserts, I'm not going to fuss about the $7. Nor will I complain about the "bread pudding." This dish is to bread pudding what the veggie burger is to veggie burgers. Different league. Different experience. The cream sauce probably had maple syrup in it, at least that's what it looked like. I don't know what to say. Go get an order of "bread pudding." Berry cobbler is berry cobbler. All Dan could have done is make this one better than any other one. BINGO. If you want to know what I'm talking about, come over. There's some of each in my refrigerator.
Now round two was not without complaints. The server was slow and not that attentive, and it was too noisy in the restaurant. So that knocks "The Blue Collar" down from an A+ to an A. But the food? Yikes.
Addendum: I had lunch at a restaurant called Serendipity 3. I got the veggie burger, with fries and spicy dipping sauce. NOT...EVEN...CLOSE. And it was $14. The veggie burger was inferior to Dan's, the fries were a far cry, and the spicy dipping sauce was not nearly as good. So I'm very sorry, Dan. I'm embarrassed to have complained. You're worth every penny.
Two people told me to go there. One of them says it serves the best hamburger...there is. I'm not a big hamburger eater, but that kind of nudge delivered often enough gets me in the door.
"The Blue Collar" is, well, blue collar, right? Wrong. Yes, it's low key. The "kitchen" is just the cooking area along one wall. Three cooks, including owner/chef Dan Serfer, mill around and make food. The servers, who, I must say, are drop dead adorable, mill around with the cooks or at their post at the cash register. They all seem very fond of each other, and Dan is not at all too busy to ask you how things are going, and how the food is. And it's a litte noisy. And cramped. Yes, it's all that.
But here's the problem with "The Blue Collar." Actually, there are two problems, if they expect the name to be taken seriously. A divey kind of place, in the old breakfast restaurant of a skanky motel, should not have the best hamburger...there is. Nor should they have exceptionally good french fries to go with it (assuming you don't want vegetables, which was your other choice), and magnificent dipping and hamburger sauce. They shouldn't be allowed to make food that good. But they do, they are, and it is. And whether they do or they don't, they should not charge $13 for the hamburger. I hate being ripped off. Is this a rip-off? Yeah, I guess so, sort of. I don't know. If the hamburger is the best there is, which it is, then it can't be duplicated, so should they charge as much as they want? Not if they want to call themselves "The Blue Collar."
Also, if it's really blue collar, shouldn't diners have dessert? I confess to eating like a horse, and I couldn't have had dessert after my hamburger. I was too full. Which was almost a crime, since the desserts sounded amazing, especially if I should assume that anyone who cooks burgers and fries like that probably makes breathtaking desserts, too. So despite the abusive pricing, I had to go back. This time, I decided to bring reinforcements. Not only do they have a $12 veggie burger I needed to understand, but their specials sound hypnotic. One of my friends told me his wife makes great oxtails, her brother makes them even better, and "The Blue Collar" beats them both.
I'm back. "Strike while the iron is hot." "Better the egg today than the chicken tomorrow." "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." Here's what happens if you don't order the oxtails special the day you're there. When you come back, with your posse, they don't have it that day. So whaddaya gonna do? Get that "veggie burger" you were thinking about, and order the baby back ribs special and the chicken thighs special.
Well, I wouldn't exactly call it a veggie burger. First of all, there's no such thing as a $12 veggie burger. Even fabulous fries don't do that. Second, it tasted more like a gourmet pate than a "veggie burger." And third, it looked more like a meatball, except it was presented on one of their magnificent home made buns and garnished with lettuce, tomato, and onion. (And ask for the spicy dipping sauce. Put it on everything.) So I have to say, if there was such a thing as a $12 veggie burger, which of course there isn't, this would be it. It really was that good. I've had lots of veggie burgers, and none ever was in this kind of league. It was tasty, balanced, and exceptionally well-seasoned. I wouldn't say anyone should order this veggie burger, because no one should pay $12 for a veggie burger, but if you pretend it's a highly adorned pate, then get it.
The baby back ribs were incredible. If I ever wanted ribs other than in Kansas City, these would be the ribs I would want. It's not just the ribs, either, though they were barbequed to perfection. (I'm talking about the actual description, not the trite phrase.) I don't know who made the sauce-- probably Dan-- but wow. And this is not the same deal without the potatoes, which were roasted with bacon and who knows what else. Should this cost $19? No. Can you get it anywhere for less? No. So you have a problem.
I wouldn't have gotten the chicken thighs special, except the waiter (not one of the two adorable ones from last time) highly recommended it. And I already knew we weren't getting the oxtails. We were not sorry. Where does Dan get this stuff? How does someone cook like that? And who invented mashed potatoes that good? Once again, did Dan need to charge $18 for this? I'm thinking not. But there's something about which you can't argue with him. His food is better than anything. And I will tell you this. There were four of us. We ordered those three dishes. It was not easy to finish them. If I hadn't been one of the four, someone would have taken home a good deal of food. And I haven't even told you about dessert.
"Chocolate cake," "bread pudding," and berry cobbler. I don't want you to think I'm fawning, or being hyperbolic, but these desserts were perfect. The ideal dessert should be sweet enough to punctuate a meal, but not too sweet. That's what we're talking about here. We've all had chocolate cake. We've all had good chocolate cake. I, personally, am a "chocoholic." I have had few chocolate cakes that good. We each had some. The rest is in my refrigerator. So considering what restaurants charge for desserts, I'm not going to fuss about the $7. Nor will I complain about the "bread pudding." This dish is to bread pudding what the veggie burger is to veggie burgers. Different league. Different experience. The cream sauce probably had maple syrup in it, at least that's what it looked like. I don't know what to say. Go get an order of "bread pudding." Berry cobbler is berry cobbler. All Dan could have done is make this one better than any other one. BINGO. If you want to know what I'm talking about, come over. There's some of each in my refrigerator.
Now round two was not without complaints. The server was slow and not that attentive, and it was too noisy in the restaurant. So that knocks "The Blue Collar" down from an A+ to an A. But the food? Yikes.
Addendum: I had lunch at a restaurant called Serendipity 3. I got the veggie burger, with fries and spicy dipping sauce. NOT...EVEN...CLOSE. And it was $14. The veggie burger was inferior to Dan's, the fries were a far cry, and the spicy dipping sauce was not nearly as good. So I'm very sorry, Dan. I'm embarrassed to have complained. You're worth every penny.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Prostitution
Here in the Village of Biscayne Park, money is hard to come by. The fact is, we're not really sexy. If municipalities, like boats and countries, are referred to in the feminine gender, VBP is a good girl. She's modest, and if anything, she's proud of her style, and her limitations. She'd sooner be an effective and beloved elementary grades teacher than a starlet.
But she stumbled onto a "People" magazine, then saw one of those Hollywood star tattlers, and she's beginning to think there are better ways to make a living, and maybe have some luxury in your life. Things don't have to be arduous, and low-key. There are ways to grease wheels, to lubricate the works a bit.
So here's what she's now got up her...sleeve. There's the possibility of having a school, set among the houses. It's a little more noise, like the noise some people don't like at the Recreation Center, and it will involve more and knottier traffic, like the traffic some people wish wouldn't "cut through" the Village, but the school might pay money to our girl. It's like those ladies in the magazines, with the striking enhancements, the prostheses that look out of proportion (and who knows what will happen to them in the future), but for now, are just so eye-catching. And they may catch the eyes of lads with money to spend.
And her favorite word? No, not diamonds. Annexation. It was mentioned more than a time or two last night. She likes annexation, because she heard there's money in it for her. It's her ticket out of the slow lane, as municipalities go. Now the problem is she may have to fraternize with boys who don't have her style, or her stability. And once she hooks up with them, she's stuck with them. It hasn't fully occurred to her that the money they give her may go more to sustain their lifestyle than to elevate hers. And now, she's not that kind of girl any more: the sweet homegirl everyone loves. She's a girl who runs with a different crowd. A girl who doesn't just charm you any more. But for money, she's really thinking of taking the plunge.
And then, there's the news from last night. It's not good news. The matter was registration fees for "lobbyists." Lobbyists are bad boys. They're pretty clear about what they want, they're willing to pay for it, and there is no reason at all to think it's in our girl's interest. It wasn't clarified what the definition of a lobbyist is, but there's clear interest in charging them to represent their clients before the Commission. Now I have to be up front here. I do not like the lobby industry. I consider it antidemocratic. Why else would lobbyists shell out money, than to influence lawmakers in ways others cannot? And the fact that it works so well is proof of conflict of interest. Government is supposed to be free. Anyone should be able to speak before legislators without paying a fee for the access. Bryan Cooper used to know this, like two years ago, when he wanted to decline an unrestricted and no strings attached $15K gift from FPL, of the type they give lots of municipalities, because he was afraid they were somehow buying us off. Not last night, though. Our girl was getting ready to strut. She rolled up her skirt, and lowered her blouse. $150 a kiss. Or whatever you're supposed to get for $150.
Wayward? Oh, boy. Our girl is willing to surrender her character-- to a school, to make a bad marriage, and even to put out a bit-- just for money. I'm not wrong, right? There's a word for girls like that?
But she stumbled onto a "People" magazine, then saw one of those Hollywood star tattlers, and she's beginning to think there are better ways to make a living, and maybe have some luxury in your life. Things don't have to be arduous, and low-key. There are ways to grease wheels, to lubricate the works a bit.
So here's what she's now got up her...sleeve. There's the possibility of having a school, set among the houses. It's a little more noise, like the noise some people don't like at the Recreation Center, and it will involve more and knottier traffic, like the traffic some people wish wouldn't "cut through" the Village, but the school might pay money to our girl. It's like those ladies in the magazines, with the striking enhancements, the prostheses that look out of proportion (and who knows what will happen to them in the future), but for now, are just so eye-catching. And they may catch the eyes of lads with money to spend.
And her favorite word? No, not diamonds. Annexation. It was mentioned more than a time or two last night. She likes annexation, because she heard there's money in it for her. It's her ticket out of the slow lane, as municipalities go. Now the problem is she may have to fraternize with boys who don't have her style, or her stability. And once she hooks up with them, she's stuck with them. It hasn't fully occurred to her that the money they give her may go more to sustain their lifestyle than to elevate hers. And now, she's not that kind of girl any more: the sweet homegirl everyone loves. She's a girl who runs with a different crowd. A girl who doesn't just charm you any more. But for money, she's really thinking of taking the plunge.
And then, there's the news from last night. It's not good news. The matter was registration fees for "lobbyists." Lobbyists are bad boys. They're pretty clear about what they want, they're willing to pay for it, and there is no reason at all to think it's in our girl's interest. It wasn't clarified what the definition of a lobbyist is, but there's clear interest in charging them to represent their clients before the Commission. Now I have to be up front here. I do not like the lobby industry. I consider it antidemocratic. Why else would lobbyists shell out money, than to influence lawmakers in ways others cannot? And the fact that it works so well is proof of conflict of interest. Government is supposed to be free. Anyone should be able to speak before legislators without paying a fee for the access. Bryan Cooper used to know this, like two years ago, when he wanted to decline an unrestricted and no strings attached $15K gift from FPL, of the type they give lots of municipalities, because he was afraid they were somehow buying us off. Not last night, though. Our girl was getting ready to strut. She rolled up her skirt, and lowered her blouse. $150 a kiss. Or whatever you're supposed to get for $150.
Wayward? Oh, boy. Our girl is willing to surrender her character-- to a school, to make a bad marriage, and even to put out a bit-- just for money. I'm not wrong, right? There's a word for girls like that?
You Shall Have Your Comeuppance
That's you, Roxanna Ross, Headmistress of the dark days of legislative doom. You were the Evil Empress, who wreaked suppression upon your little people and your hapless lieutenants. And they waited, for any chance they could ever hope to seize, to put you firmly in your place. They wanted you to feel what they once felt, that same sense of frustration, of helplessness, and of humiliation.
Did you see how it felt? Do you remember the amendments your one-time colleague and enemy, Steve Bernard, tried vainly to make to the minutes, the precious record of all that is our tiny Village? Do you recall the imperiousness with which you, and your underlings, Anderson and Childress, dismissed Bernard's helpless attempt at a small light in the darkness you created? Did you pay the slightest attention to Cooper, who could only pathetically join Bernard in trying to preserve fairness and dignity in this neighborhood you dominiated?
Well, you've tasted some revenge now, haven't you. Now you want minutes passed, because you've had up to three months to review them, and have made your corrections. No! You'll wait another month now, while Cooper pretends to review the minutes himself. You must have felt the sting of his revenge. Obviously he has not the slightest interest in the minutes. If he had, he would have made his own corrections, and he would have done it long before now, as you did. No, Roxanna Ross, this is not about minutes. It's about punishing you. And you'll hear from His Highness as well. You're in a hurry now to get the old minutes passed? Well, if they're that old, then they can wait some more. And so can you.
Noah Jacobs, The new Emperor, not the pretender, as you were, set you straight only about a month ago. He was searing in his confrontation of you: you just can't get over not being Mayor any more. That's right, Roxanna Ross, you're no longer the Mayor, or the Queen, or whatever you thought you were. His Imperial Majesty, Czar Noah, our "Dear Leader," as the North Koreans are forced to intone, will see to it that you remember who's boss around here.
It's a new day here, and your angry reign is over. You made your minority partners impotent, and you even drove away the masses. Bernard told us that. So did Cooper. But now that you're kicked aside, there are even fewer masses and supplicants than before. Hmm. Don't think you can let yourself off the hook, though. It really is your fault. Or if it isn't your fault, it's because residents don't like committees, so they won't come to Commission meetings, either. (I don't know, Rox. I didn't get it, either. But that's what Bryan told himself and us, for an instant. Until it was about satisfaction with how things are going in the Village. Bob Anderson said this once, but Cooper thought it was a weak dodge. It seemed to make more sense to him tonight. At least fleetingly. Until he decided it was my fault that residents don't come to Commission meetings.) They began to stop coming when Bernard got elected, fewer of them came after Cooper joined him, and now that it's Cooper and Jacobs, sometimes joined by Watts, it's only we very few unflinching suckers. Linda Dillon said something about internal warfare among the Commissioners, but what does she know?
His Majesty also cited the past disenfranchised minority, that he decided is now in power. They have raised their heads, and it's you they want to punish. Frankly, they seem to want little or nothing else. Cooper invoked what he imagines is a population of "new residents," who didn't like the old regime. Where they are now is anybody's guess, but he seems to be sure they're happier.
And Cooper repeated one of his favorite watchwords: "hypocrisy." Oh, my goodness, what a concept. Almost no one knows hypocrisy like Bryan Cooper. Linda Dillon says she has missed precious few Commission meetings in over 30 years. She's never seen anyone escorted out of a meeting, until Jacobs did it a few weeks ago. That's Jacobs, the Suppressor, who claims at times, like when he's running for office, to want more resident input. But Cooper, who has only lived here for eight years, and has been to Commission meetings only for the last four years, knows tales of many people who were driven out by the police. He even knows a reported tale of someone stalked and arrested by the police after the meeting. That Linda has no idea what he's talking about shows how out of touch she is. It certainly doesn't suggest Cooper is either not thinking straight, or making it up. And what about Jacobs' further swipe of you, when he decided that if a Charter Revision Committee was a lengthy process, then it didn't make sense to wait to begin it. This is the same person who decided that if minutes had waited this long to be passed, then they might as well wait longer.
And you, Bob Anderson. Don't think you're escaping punishment. You claim you haven't heard anyone clamoring for Charter change? No? Well neither have the rest of us. But Cooper has. Does the term "term limits" mean anything to you, old man? That's right. The new broom sweeps clean. You have offended certain powers that be around here, and you, too, will get what you deserve.
Yes, you two. Now you see. Now you know what it's like to be treated with disdain and dismissal. Like the infidels and witches you are, you will be cleansed by the purifying fire. You shall have your comeuppance.
Did you see how it felt? Do you remember the amendments your one-time colleague and enemy, Steve Bernard, tried vainly to make to the minutes, the precious record of all that is our tiny Village? Do you recall the imperiousness with which you, and your underlings, Anderson and Childress, dismissed Bernard's helpless attempt at a small light in the darkness you created? Did you pay the slightest attention to Cooper, who could only pathetically join Bernard in trying to preserve fairness and dignity in this neighborhood you dominiated?
Well, you've tasted some revenge now, haven't you. Now you want minutes passed, because you've had up to three months to review them, and have made your corrections. No! You'll wait another month now, while Cooper pretends to review the minutes himself. You must have felt the sting of his revenge. Obviously he has not the slightest interest in the minutes. If he had, he would have made his own corrections, and he would have done it long before now, as you did. No, Roxanna Ross, this is not about minutes. It's about punishing you. And you'll hear from His Highness as well. You're in a hurry now to get the old minutes passed? Well, if they're that old, then they can wait some more. And so can you.
Noah Jacobs, The new Emperor, not the pretender, as you were, set you straight only about a month ago. He was searing in his confrontation of you: you just can't get over not being Mayor any more. That's right, Roxanna Ross, you're no longer the Mayor, or the Queen, or whatever you thought you were. His Imperial Majesty, Czar Noah, our "Dear Leader," as the North Koreans are forced to intone, will see to it that you remember who's boss around here.
It's a new day here, and your angry reign is over. You made your minority partners impotent, and you even drove away the masses. Bernard told us that. So did Cooper. But now that you're kicked aside, there are even fewer masses and supplicants than before. Hmm. Don't think you can let yourself off the hook, though. It really is your fault. Or if it isn't your fault, it's because residents don't like committees, so they won't come to Commission meetings, either. (I don't know, Rox. I didn't get it, either. But that's what Bryan told himself and us, for an instant. Until it was about satisfaction with how things are going in the Village. Bob Anderson said this once, but Cooper thought it was a weak dodge. It seemed to make more sense to him tonight. At least fleetingly. Until he decided it was my fault that residents don't come to Commission meetings.) They began to stop coming when Bernard got elected, fewer of them came after Cooper joined him, and now that it's Cooper and Jacobs, sometimes joined by Watts, it's only we very few unflinching suckers. Linda Dillon said something about internal warfare among the Commissioners, but what does she know?
His Majesty also cited the past disenfranchised minority, that he decided is now in power. They have raised their heads, and it's you they want to punish. Frankly, they seem to want little or nothing else. Cooper invoked what he imagines is a population of "new residents," who didn't like the old regime. Where they are now is anybody's guess, but he seems to be sure they're happier.
And Cooper repeated one of his favorite watchwords: "hypocrisy." Oh, my goodness, what a concept. Almost no one knows hypocrisy like Bryan Cooper. Linda Dillon says she has missed precious few Commission meetings in over 30 years. She's never seen anyone escorted out of a meeting, until Jacobs did it a few weeks ago. That's Jacobs, the Suppressor, who claims at times, like when he's running for office, to want more resident input. But Cooper, who has only lived here for eight years, and has been to Commission meetings only for the last four years, knows tales of many people who were driven out by the police. He even knows a reported tale of someone stalked and arrested by the police after the meeting. That Linda has no idea what he's talking about shows how out of touch she is. It certainly doesn't suggest Cooper is either not thinking straight, or making it up. And what about Jacobs' further swipe of you, when he decided that if a Charter Revision Committee was a lengthy process, then it didn't make sense to wait to begin it. This is the same person who decided that if minutes had waited this long to be passed, then they might as well wait longer.
And you, Bob Anderson. Don't think you're escaping punishment. You claim you haven't heard anyone clamoring for Charter change? No? Well neither have the rest of us. But Cooper has. Does the term "term limits" mean anything to you, old man? That's right. The new broom sweeps clean. You have offended certain powers that be around here, and you, too, will get what you deserve.
Yes, you two. Now you see. Now you know what it's like to be treated with disdain and dismissal. Like the infidels and witches you are, you will be cleansed by the purifying fire. You shall have your comeuppance.
Monday, October 1, 2012
A Sad State of Affairs. Not strictly BP-related.
Yesterday, I was at Home Depot. I needed some advice as to how to accomplish something. The HD employee parolling the aisle listened to my problem, which was how to adhere two pieces of rope to each other, and he gave me a suggestion.
This employee was black. He had an accent, which I think was Haitian. He told me I should use a kind of thing that would wrap around the pieces of rope, and I could tighten it. He didn't explain it clearly, and I didn't understand what this thing was. They sell them in the electric department, and he was prepared to walk me over there and show me. But just as a last attempt to get me to recognize what this thing was, he said, "you know, when the police arrest you, and they tie that thing around your wrists?"
I want to say two things. One is that I applaud Home Depot, and I always have, for their willingness to hire people with records, and for the confidence and hopefulness they have in these employees. Frankly, it makes me feel good to imagine, as I often do, that the person helping me is being advantaged in precisely that way by a great company.
The other thing is that this employee was open, artless, and apparently completely lacking in self-consciousness about the interaction he and I had. This experience is so pervasive to him, and to people "who look like" him, perhaps to most everyone he knows, that it seemed not to occur to him that it wasn't common to everyone.
This is a terrible thing. "We" have mistreated "them" for a very long time, and we continue to do it. My friend Jean Caze, whom some of you know, recently stayed with me for a while. One day, he came home and told me a story of having been stopped by police, not ours, about what sounded like a very minor bit of driving behavior. I don't remember what it was, but I remember thinking how unlikely it would have been that an officer would have stopped me for the same thing. Jean got stopped not for what he did, but for what he looks like.
So I felt very badly about the interaction I had at HD. It was just very sad. I really felt for the guy, and I'm glad and proud that HD works with these people as it does. And I don't only mean black people. When I lived in Massachusetts, I was the consulting psychiatrist for a prison for a few years. It was noteworthy how many of the inmates, black and caucasian, had HD in their work histories.
Thanks, HD.
This employee was black. He had an accent, which I think was Haitian. He told me I should use a kind of thing that would wrap around the pieces of rope, and I could tighten it. He didn't explain it clearly, and I didn't understand what this thing was. They sell them in the electric department, and he was prepared to walk me over there and show me. But just as a last attempt to get me to recognize what this thing was, he said, "you know, when the police arrest you, and they tie that thing around your wrists?"
I want to say two things. One is that I applaud Home Depot, and I always have, for their willingness to hire people with records, and for the confidence and hopefulness they have in these employees. Frankly, it makes me feel good to imagine, as I often do, that the person helping me is being advantaged in precisely that way by a great company.
The other thing is that this employee was open, artless, and apparently completely lacking in self-consciousness about the interaction he and I had. This experience is so pervasive to him, and to people "who look like" him, perhaps to most everyone he knows, that it seemed not to occur to him that it wasn't common to everyone.
This is a terrible thing. "We" have mistreated "them" for a very long time, and we continue to do it. My friend Jean Caze, whom some of you know, recently stayed with me for a while. One day, he came home and told me a story of having been stopped by police, not ours, about what sounded like a very minor bit of driving behavior. I don't remember what it was, but I remember thinking how unlikely it would have been that an officer would have stopped me for the same thing. Jean got stopped not for what he did, but for what he looks like.
So I felt very badly about the interaction I had at HD. It was just very sad. I really felt for the guy, and I'm glad and proud that HD works with these people as it does. And I don't only mean black people. When I lived in Massachusetts, I was the consulting psychiatrist for a prison for a few years. It was noteworthy how many of the inmates, black and caucasian, had HD in their work histories.
Thanks, HD.