Wednesday, December 21, 2005
when life hands you chunks of the wrong candy.
you guys, this sucks.
you'd think having a strike-day at home would give me ample time to blog about the weirdness of current new york, but inertia was difficult to overcome. a city at rest tends to stay at rest.
i will say this: the transit union needs someone charismatic, sensitive and intelligent to articulate their concerns to the public immediately. in fact, two days ago. the people of this city hear every hour about the demands--retirement at 55, no contribution to pension and health, pay raises--and rarely about anything more sympathy-inducing. it's difficult to be patient without hearing more backstory that can explain the dire circumstances, especially when so many of us who rely on public transportation have no health insurance or pension, can't imagine being able to retire at 55, and make less money than most MTA workers. the union is not doing a very good job of cultivating public support. especially given that it is 18 degrees with wind chill outside. i keep thinking about little old ladies and people who need to get somewhere for dialysis.
it's never that simple, though. there must be six more sides to the story. roger toussaint said on the news the other day that the MTA had never bargained in good faith, that important leaders hadn't even come to the table until the eleventh hour, and that they were certainly responsible for some of the current impasse--and yet the only people being fined were the workers. and if the MTA did behave badly, who would tell us? the mayor? i have to admit i find it hard to believe this strike is justified, but two entities created the situation and only one is being held responsible for its fallout. i wish the union were telling people more about what went down to make the strike seem inevitable. i don't think i'd magically turn sympathetic, but i do wish i knew more.
and underneath it all is this heady fascination with a situation in which laborers control the city. the disparity between rich and poor here is unlike any i've ever known. when the rich in this city speak, when they demand something, everyone listens. when bus drivers speak, no one does--but they do today. everytime someone calls this strike illegal, or shames the labor leaders, or denounces their selfishness, i'm left thinking: this is their power. this is what we have, the baristas and the checkout girls and the waiters and the cabbies and the doormen. you can't create a world in which you rely on us but in which we wield no power. it doesn't work like that. no matter how poor a decision this strike is, and how much awfulness results, there's a tenor to the finger-wagging that seems suspicious to me. disrupting the status-quo is the only weapon the working class has. their choice to use it right now is questionable, but so is this paternal, elitist "shame on you" act the city is pulling.
it's a crappy situation, no question. i'm generally pro-labor, but living here and seeing what's going on makes it very, very hard to be supportive. no good reason for the action is being publicized. no one is explaining why we can't get to the doctor, why we're going unpaid for days of missed work, why old men with walkers are hoofing it down broadway.
THAT SAID.
*i made both bread and candy yesterday. the candy was supposed to be homemade gumdrops; i boiled it too long and it turned into lollipop pieces. still delicious!
*the cookie party was, finally, the huge success it deserved to be. despite one moment in which social stress got the better of me, i think a good time was had by all. it had a nice vibe. and who knew we could really have twelve people in our station-wagon-sized living room?
*two things are abundantly clear: the monkey and i have a tough row to hoe, and we are seriously committed to the hoeing of it. age increasingly proves life to be a strange story in which our heroine faces, one by one, the very challenges she most heartily wishes never to encounter. all things that make one stronger, all things you could very well live your life without ever having to deal with. somedays i am tempted to believe Someone Important knows where the chinks in my armor are. if there is less joy than struggle right now, i believe it won't be that way for always.
*bread AND CANDY.
you'd think having a strike-day at home would give me ample time to blog about the weirdness of current new york, but inertia was difficult to overcome. a city at rest tends to stay at rest.
i will say this: the transit union needs someone charismatic, sensitive and intelligent to articulate their concerns to the public immediately. in fact, two days ago. the people of this city hear every hour about the demands--retirement at 55, no contribution to pension and health, pay raises--and rarely about anything more sympathy-inducing. it's difficult to be patient without hearing more backstory that can explain the dire circumstances, especially when so many of us who rely on public transportation have no health insurance or pension, can't imagine being able to retire at 55, and make less money than most MTA workers. the union is not doing a very good job of cultivating public support. especially given that it is 18 degrees with wind chill outside. i keep thinking about little old ladies and people who need to get somewhere for dialysis.
it's never that simple, though. there must be six more sides to the story. roger toussaint said on the news the other day that the MTA had never bargained in good faith, that important leaders hadn't even come to the table until the eleventh hour, and that they were certainly responsible for some of the current impasse--and yet the only people being fined were the workers. and if the MTA did behave badly, who would tell us? the mayor? i have to admit i find it hard to believe this strike is justified, but two entities created the situation and only one is being held responsible for its fallout. i wish the union were telling people more about what went down to make the strike seem inevitable. i don't think i'd magically turn sympathetic, but i do wish i knew more.
and underneath it all is this heady fascination with a situation in which laborers control the city. the disparity between rich and poor here is unlike any i've ever known. when the rich in this city speak, when they demand something, everyone listens. when bus drivers speak, no one does--but they do today. everytime someone calls this strike illegal, or shames the labor leaders, or denounces their selfishness, i'm left thinking: this is their power. this is what we have, the baristas and the checkout girls and the waiters and the cabbies and the doormen. you can't create a world in which you rely on us but in which we wield no power. it doesn't work like that. no matter how poor a decision this strike is, and how much awfulness results, there's a tenor to the finger-wagging that seems suspicious to me. disrupting the status-quo is the only weapon the working class has. their choice to use it right now is questionable, but so is this paternal, elitist "shame on you" act the city is pulling.
it's a crappy situation, no question. i'm generally pro-labor, but living here and seeing what's going on makes it very, very hard to be supportive. no good reason for the action is being publicized. no one is explaining why we can't get to the doctor, why we're going unpaid for days of missed work, why old men with walkers are hoofing it down broadway.
THAT SAID.
*i made both bread and candy yesterday. the candy was supposed to be homemade gumdrops; i boiled it too long and it turned into lollipop pieces. still delicious!
*the cookie party was, finally, the huge success it deserved to be. despite one moment in which social stress got the better of me, i think a good time was had by all. it had a nice vibe. and who knew we could really have twelve people in our station-wagon-sized living room?
*two things are abundantly clear: the monkey and i have a tough row to hoe, and we are seriously committed to the hoeing of it. age increasingly proves life to be a strange story in which our heroine faces, one by one, the very challenges she most heartily wishes never to encounter. all things that make one stronger, all things you could very well live your life without ever having to deal with. somedays i am tempted to believe Someone Important knows where the chinks in my armor are. if there is less joy than struggle right now, i believe it won't be that way for always.
*bread AND CANDY.
