You're right, you can't afford to live in Boston (Day 39)

Or most of Massachusetts.

One of my children pays more than the accepted ratio for rent. (That's about 28 percent, thought sometimes it gets up to 30.) Shockingly, they don't have a lot of money in savings, and they were aghast when they found that they owed some money in taxes. Not very much, but when you live effectively paycheck to paycheck, anything is a lot. 

I thought of this child when I saw this chart from the good people at the Raise Up MA coalition. Suffice to say, my child is not making the $27.89 per hour they would need to in order to be able to, well, afford to live in Boston. They talk about moving to a more rural area, but frankly that won't do it; they'd probably have to leave the state, as I think one of my other children will eventually.

Just so we're clear, that's one of the most painful things a parent can write. This isn't the same as "my child is going to leave the state to pursue a really great education somewhere, or they got their dream job in another part of the country." This is "my child can't afford to stay somewhere where they have friends and family, and they can't imagine being able to build a life here."

This is not unrelated to wealth inequality in Massachusetts. Forget comparisons to San Francisco; when places get like this, it starts to feel like some of the oligarchies around the world where you find a disproportionate number of billionaires but the average citizen is likelier to live in poverty (I'll let you fill in the blanks). 

So let's raise the minimum wage, and let's support unions. It's not just to keep my children here, but other people's, too.

Deb in the City

The MBTA remains a joke (Day 38)

I had made an appointment to see a friend today in Back Bay, and later in the day I wanted to meet my son and husband in Brookline. Great, I thought yesterday, I'll just get on the C-Line (a section of the Green Line). Then, because I have learned something living here all this time, I checked a trip itinerary, and, oh yeah, I would actually need to take a shuttle to get there. But no worries, since both my point of origin and my destination were very close to the pick up/drop off spots.

Apparently I haven't lived here long enough, because the ride took so long that I was almost moved to tears (and the fact that my husband misinterpreted our meeting time meant that I was, in a way, that much later). Given the time I waited for the shuttle to "fill", and the amount of time the trip took, if I had walked I wouldn't have missed too much time.

I have no idea what is causing the MBTA shutdowns of the Green Line this time--something about track work through March 8--but it is ALWAYS something, and the improvements have been negligible. Which is insane at a time when lanes are being changed in order to make it more difficult for cars to drive through (and I would still lose my mind if one of my children were going to bike through the main streets of Boston). I love public transportation, but Boston and Massachusetts need to stop acting like they can wish a good system into existence--or repair the one we have now into something that is usable and reliable. We have to start from scratch, and the sooner we do so, the better.

Deb in the City

Nice to be back (Day 37)

After a two-week hiatus, I returned to the "north" of the city, walking between Charlestown and the North End.

The view a little before 9 AM is spectacular, so much so that even my finger doesn't ruin it

I was a little less enamored of the idea of sitting the whole morning in a cafe, so I walked back and forth between the two parts of Boston, and landed, albeit reluctantly, in the Starbucks near my targeted library (which, sadly, does not open until 10). I despaired of the usual snacking choices, but then I saw the sign: Starbucks has oatmeal! Suffice to say oatmeal with almond milk, nuts, and blueberries was the best mid-morning snack I've had outside for a very long time. 

Spent most of my time at the library noodling through a couple of math problems--there's nothing like finally getting the answer after scratching your head for a while--and then pushed through a couple of pages of a YA novel I'm trying to read. This is another case of really lousy editing, which my age-appropriate son confirmed. I'm giving this another forty or so pages (it does read quickly) before I decide, but I suspect it will be returned shortly after. Still in all, a very pleasant way to spend a couple of hours "up north".

Deb in the City

Spare me from ever having to listen to Fresh Air again (Day 36)

One of the nice things about finally having a smartphone again is not having to listen to public radio unless I really want to. Having firmly embraced my book reading for information habit, I find I *really* don't want to, and listening to my local outlets feels like nails on chalkboard when I encounter it. No, this isn't because I'd prefer to listen to commercial radio, but because NPR has made me roll my eyes since the ad for the video game--excuse, extremely long PR piece for the video game--and the PR spot for nuclear energy (I know I've been bad about linking lately, but if I could find this link I would. If you don't believe me, just keep listening until you hear a similar puff piece.) And fine, this is what "the news" is now, but then don't make me sit through hours of BS during fund drives about how that isn't what you are at all.

My husband hasn't lost his patience with public radio as much as I have, bless him, so today I relented when he wanted to listen to Fresh Air. This was a "Best Of" episode that featured an interview with Mark Ruffalo. What could possibly go wrong?

OH MY GOD. Please, please, please. I have been railing over Performance for over a year now, but only because I finally had a name for it. It's what the kids are really getting at when they obsess over being a non-conformist or authenticity or whatever terminology people are using now. Since I'm not a teenager, I understand that we do have to go through some performances, especially when we interact with people we don't know. Very well. But at my age, do I really need to listen to some actor going through the motions of self-effacement talking about New York City, anonymity, and what he's lost--but also gained!--by being in a movie franchise that mints money? Or how comedy is such a different animal from drama? Especially when he says NOTHING I haven't heard and read hundreds of times before?

Why do these people pretend They're Just Like You and Me (TM)? Yeah, yeah, yeah, he was on a press junket for the movie he's been nominated for, and he was just answering questions, but still in all, ew. Your craft, yeah, whatever. The vast majority of us aren't going to act in any venue, and the way he puts on a character isn't that interesting to me. Tell me about the finances, tell me whether you made any money on the back end, tell me when you're going to start producing your own movies, tell me SOMETHING I haven't already heard, or just move on.

No, right, they're not going to do that--so I guess I'll have to. Fresh Air, you had a good run (and when you were good, you were very good--this interview with Dorothy Allison still haunts me), but you've been done, at least for me, for a while. (And the same to the vast majority of public radio.)

Thank god for books.

Deb in the City

Meanwhile, in South Korea (Day 35)

I haven't been following any news as closely for the last week and a half--as I've said, the more you read books, the more foolish "the news" seems--but I do try to keep an eye out for news out of South Korea. As ever, the stories that make me scratch my head are the ones that keep my attention.

South Korea is hurting for medical personnel. This is something that I, as a resident of Boston, can sympathize with. You may live in an environment where a lot of doctors are trained, but the competition to see said doctors can be brutal, especially if you're in the midst of a demographic shift, as South Korea is. On top of that, South Korea is one of those places where the capital dwarfs the next largest city, so the lion's share of the action still takes place in Seoul. And because they are a highly urbanized population, activity is biased toward the cities (I am hard pressed to think of a case in the world where that isn't true right now).

So, as it stands, there aren't enough doctors, and there especially aren't enough in rural areas, or for the elderly. (You've got to imagine how dire it might be if you're an elderly person in a rural area.) Not surprisingly, the government announced a few months ago that they would now increase the number of students accepted into medical school, both to get more doctors into the field and to relieve the pressure on the existing doctors. 

A little digression: this sounded like a great idea to me, in part because last year some of Boston's residents had a strike. They had been laboring under low pay (Boston is very expensive) while being absolutely hustled due to the COVID-19 pandemic. I've been in medical settings; they are overworked, and I supported their positions. Thus, I thought South Korea was on the right track.

Oh boy. Clearly, the younger doctors did not agree, but they are not just striking but *resigning* since the announcement. They are, in a word, outraged.

This is where I started scratching my head, until I came upon this: 

However, these proposals have been criticized by doctors and professors, who argue that medical schools are currently struggling to provide adequate teaching and training resources to students at their current enrollment levels. 

Oh. Right. Yes. And in retrospect, not sure why I expected more from the Yoon administration.

There is no doubt that South Koreans, just like the Americans, just like most other people on the planet, need more, but we need the *right* kind of more. It is not enough to increase the supply of some resource; we have to make sure that we can put those resources to work.

I'm reminded of a conversation I had with a Lyft driver years ago. He was more conservative than I am (this isn't hard), but it was a pleasant discussion. This was around the time politicians were beginning to make proposals for free college education. At least one child was in college, and three would be going later. I don't think college solves everything or even most things, but I think it should be accessible. My driver did not agree, but not because he didn't think everyone deserved an education. What, he asked, would that look like if it happened right then? What would the quality of that education be for everyone if all we did was make college available to everyone but didn't really change anything else?

As he spoke, I remembered the classes my daughter had taken at community college, taught predominantly by people who had to teach at multiple institutions to make enough to live on. Many times those professors or instructors aren't as available for questions as their tenured equivalents might be, and who can blame them when they have to hustle as hard as they do. I could easily see a nightmare scenario, a la Tithonus, where students could take whatever classes they wanted, they just shouldn't expect that the instruction would actually teach.

Just as, perhaps, South Koreans might be able to get more doctors, they just shouldn't expect that they'll actually be well-trained.

Temporary stopgaps can be simple, but permanent solutions don't tend to be. Which is why it's not a bad idea to keep an eye on labor groups and what they have to say about a given issue. They see things the rest of us don't, and when we don't listen, it's almost always to our detriment.

Deb in the City

Repeats and Redux (Day 34)

Today I watched an episode of the 60s series The Prisoner with my husband and a friend and later the first episode of the live action Avatar: The Last Airbender. I generally resist repeats and revisions, but it's fun to see something old through a friend's eyes, and my husband really watched to watch ATLA.

It was okay, though opening with genocide might be off-putting to someone who isn't familiar with the story. The acting could use some work--as in the animated original, Sokka and Zuko steal the show--but I'm not going to be too picky about *children*.

As for The Prisoner, it's hard not to chuckle when Number Six repeatedly asks after Number One and continues to assert that he is a person and not a number. Of course you are, you adorable nonconformist. The episode we watched, Dance of the Dead, reminded me of the pantomime I felt pulled into when I went to lobby a few days ago: the parade the Villagers traveled in was a small circle, and the dance required small, mincing steps that didn't allow you to move out of bounds. Sounds like every parade and choreographed group dance I've ever seen, as well as every election cycle, local, state, and federal.

Excuse me while I watch some original programming about South Korean divorce attorney who challenges the system while, ultimately, leaving it unchanged. (Irony intended.)

Deb in the City

Where has the music gone? (Day 33)

I have no idea why, but for the last week I have no motivation to listen to music. This is strange, I think, since I was one of those children--and then adults--that loved to sing. (One of my sisters sang before she could really speak.) I consider myself to be something of a musical person, but lately the idea of listening to music fills me with some dread.

This may be the consequence of raising critical children. If you're thinking, "I wonder where they got that from," you have point, but only just so. While not perfect, I think I did a pretty good job of not belittling their voices (which, to be fair, are lovely). I did not always get the same courtesy from them, let's just say.

I have also frequently felt like I wasn't allowed to sing by myself. When I was growing up, my mother would tag in almost immediately if it was a song she knew, and my children would do the same. This was not, I'm pretty sure, to cover my voice: I was cast in school choral solos, had the lead in a high school musical, and was a member of the chorus (well, it was kind of weird, but we'll call it that) in a college play. It's not that I can't sing, but that no one has wanted to let me sing on my own. I just bring the music, I guess, except now I worry about singing out and having someone either jump all over me and/or critique me.

So, yes, maybe I have a few issues around singing, but I think music is a human need akin to companionship. I'm not joking. And I have made it this far, struggling through my neuroses, still wanting to at least *listen*. What changed?

I'm a little sensitive about whether or not I'm listening to the stuff the cool kids like, or whether I'm listening to the stuff the anti-cool kids like, and then to what extent those are the same things...Whoa, excuse me, I just had a little flashback to "alternative music" in the late 1980s, and not feeling really seen until Cher Horowitz rolled her eyes at her stepbrother's Complaint Rock and declared "wah, wah, wah."

Anyway! Yes, I think about what my music says about who I am all the time, but I'm also an adult who can, on occasion, push past adolescent trauma and get stuff done in the present. Which, again, I have been able to do for decades when it comes to music. But I think what's started to make me more protective of my listening time is all of the shenanigans Spotify, YouTube Music, Amazon Music (I mean, in theory; I don't do Amazon anything, but I know they're there), and all of the other streaming services--not to mention the radio--indulge in to drag the most profit out of art. And let's agree that the music is much more manufactured than it was when I started paying attention (although maybe not by a lot); the level of exploitation of the musicians, both while they're making music and while they're trying very hard to profit from it, has always been out of bounds. (You can read and listen to more about it from Cory Doctorow.) I can be as thrilled as the next person by music that makes me want to move and sing, but if I think about it too much, it makes me want to do those things just a little bit less. Or if I think about it long enough, I don't want to do it at all.

The music has been where it's been all along, and I can have it when I want it. Hurray for technology. But maybe the music should be somewhere else, in a place where the people who make it are as rewarded for it as the people who listen to it.

Deb in the City

Working the numbers (Day 32)

If I go on about my adventures in math and science, it's not to brag--come on, who is genuinely impressed by someone who likes to play with numbers these days?--but because it is genuinely important to me to make the rest of my brain work. 

I've started playing with the ideas of "the brain box", "the big brain", and "the little brain". The brain box is probably the mind, or maybe it's the body, in total, but it is clear that said box doesn't work optimally if it's asked to do just one thing for an extended period of time. And because of the opposite of an Exceptional Example of Anything, I'm positive this doesn't just apply to me. 

We're a sports-doped civilization, yes? And we're all fitness aspirants? So I think many people understand the idea of cross-training, which is that you need to do more than just one sport (or exercise) to make sure you have balanced muscles--you know, so you can play your sport of choice well. Many people have also come to apply that principle to "physical" and "mental" activity as well (I put quotes around that because I keep reminding myself of the fact that the brain lives in the body and, really, is a part of it). I digress: people in search of academic excellence or workplace efficiency have all come to embrace the idea, perhaps with some reluctance, that your brain works best when you--wait for it--let your muscles do some work as well.

You see where I'm going with this: I think most people who set out to do one "intellectual" or "knowledge" task find that they can do so for only so long before they burn out. I think that's part of why digital distractions have taken off so much, whether it's YouTube videos or old school games like Solitaire: your brain legitimately rebels, and it needs to do something else. You can white knuckle your way through it--you can white knuckle your way through anything!--but a likely outcome is that you will start avoiding that all-important task (or job). But change it up--even if only for a few minutes--and difficult things become a little bit less of a grind.

(Will you become more efficient? How would I know? Depends on the task, the level of skill, how difficult something is, whether you actually enjoy your work, etc.)

All to say that noodling over the integral of sin^3(2t) for *an hour* is the price I pay for being able to transcribe one thousand (1000) words a day. Oh yeah--I think it's genuinely fun, and it makes my brain feel good. Same difference? (See what I did there?)

Deb in the City

We have a word for this (Day 31)

I had been working on the story that became my second novel for over two decades when I finally wrote it. Suffice to say, I knew the characters really well at that point, and it should have been a matter of setting the story to paper. But in the meantime I had introduced new characters, and they brought something different to the story, and helped answer a question that had been bothering me about my main characters. Thus, one day I came to have a breakthrough about what was really going on: I didn't change any of the action, but instead changed the perspective and orientation. Now the story and characters jumped off the page and told me very clearly what I needed to do for the rest of the series.

I think it's fair to say that my writing process was influenced by my years reading and studying history. There's a reason it can be better to study older periods: if nothing else, for the most part we are less invested in the propaganda. Which is part of why it's hard to study (or write) history as it happens, especially about our own country. One way or another, we have an opinion about national mythologies, and most of us are taught to bring those opinions with us into our reading of history; hell, most of us are taught mythologies, not actual history.

But what if we could bring that same detachment with us to more recent history? What if we could narrow our eyes, cock our heads, and look at things without the noise of the propaganda? How different would history look?

I have some thoughts, but I need to do a little more research first. But I'll leave readers with this. Please read, then look at the date, and see if you can figure out why more wasn't made about this at the time.

Deb in the City

Adventures at the Seaport (Day 30)

I had to be in the Seaport area today with my husband and son, and all three of us are disenchanted, to say the least. It looks like a gigantic version of the upscale malls you're seeing in Newton and Dedham, and has next to nothing of any local character. Which makes sense, because up until the last decade it was a mostly industrial area. Those areas have been known to become havens for artists and other people on a tight budget, but this area did not develop organically. So...one of the few times where there was gentrification without displacement?

These areas fill me with horror; most people see large, shiny residential buildings and assume wealth, but I see credit and debts. What can I say, I've lived through one too many bubbles. Obviously, not everyone there is living past their means, but I will not be surprised to hear it's more than half.

I waited for my son in Tatte--of course it was a Tatte--and overheard two younger men talking about how ridiculous it is to utilize the Seaport, the MBTA, and Boston in general. One of them was also hoping for a housing crash, presumably so he could afford to buy something. I resisted the urge to tell him to be a little more patient, because one is inevitable. 

You know you've reached some nth level of degradation when people are openly hoping for a short of their city.

Deb in the City

Turnip gratin (Day 29--no, really)

In addition to finishing Flowers of Fire, I also did a bunch of batch cooking. I indulge myself with a bi-weekly CSA box (small) for all of $36, and since I hate food waste, I make sure I use everything I get. That meant not only carrot cake muffins last period, but also radish and carrot shredded pickles. 

This box included the dreaded turnip. I did not grow up eating these, and my husband wasn't willing to put it in the soup he makes. So I crossed my fingers and came up with a vegan gratin--and it was so good!

Recipe: take a handful of cashews, slice a bit of lemon (seeds, skin, and all), put in a couple of garlic cloves, a slice of onion, something like 3 tablespoons of yeast, plus a little salt and however much liquid you need into your blender and blend until you have a cream. Pour over sliced turnip in a baking pan, then bake! I went 400 degrees for 40 minutes,  your oven may be different. Then try not to devour all in one sitting.

Enjoy!

Deb in the City

Oops (Day 28, sort of)

I want to say "I knew I forgot to do something yesterday," but honestly I was keeping pretty busy, so I didn't "know" until my son woke me up at 1:40 AM. Well, oops.

In my defense, I was engrossed in Flowers of Fire. I am extremely proud of my Korean heritage and do think about running off to South Korea to escape, but after reading this, those fantasies have been deflated. Or maybe perversely intensified: South Korea wouldn't be a haven for me as much as yet another place that needs help.

In general, what I found last week and even more this weekend is that I am growing disenchanted with the internet as mediator of my life. I know--literally, here I am, and even my in-person friendships are strengthened by online contact. But I'm finding that I have to make time to be even social online. I'm also finding myself unsubscribing to things, and not automatically, obsessively opening things as the come into my inbox. I'm even finding myself deleting things unread. (I guess we can get to Inbox Zero through multiple means.)

All to say: I wasn't doing nothing yesterday (but I'll be back later today).

Deb in the City

On Loyalty (Day 27)

I finished Revolutionary Spring: Europe Aflame and the Fight For a New World, 1848-49; I not only finished it, I took notes on it. Now I'm reading Flowers of Fire: The Inside Story of South's Korea's Feminist Movement and What It Means For Women's Rights Worldwide. Not sure why I thought the latter was going to be lighter reading, other than it's length. It's surprising and disturbing; just a few reasons why it's important to read history written by the people who didn't win.

Current events are frightening right now. Trump's latest invitation to Russia to invade NATO allies if they don't pay up would be the worst of it if yesterday hadn't brought the news of Alexei Navalny's death in a Russian prison. And the bloodletting continues in Gaza, and don't forget Ukraine. And don't forget all of the other places the news media considers beneath their (and your) notice.

It's hard to pick the worst piece of news and information among all of that, but the story I keep coming back to is Trump's stated plan to purge the government of any professional, career employees with expertise who aren't explicitly loyal *to him* and replace them with people who are, however qualified. That is terrifying, and not just because it means our government will function based on the caprices of someone who doesn't necessarily care about how a government should run. It is terrifying because it is a first, big step in turning a country to a totalitarian state.

I loathe Trump, but that notwithstanding, it's a mistake to think that he invented the idea of loyalty to an American president as opposed to the constitution. The cronies who helped Nixon cover up Watergate weren't kidding themselves that they were somehow serving the Constitution: they were serving the "office" of the president. That was, of course, bs--they were serving Nixon--but couching it that way gave the corruption a glossy, quasi-Constitutional/separation of powers shine that people didn't look at Nixon and think "fascism".

It was an ignoble idea that wasn't picked up again until Cheney started making noises about the need to protect the office of the executive; everyone knew he meant the president, and everyone knew he meant the particular one he worked for. It may have been something that would have been dropped like nuclear waste had it not been for the attacks on September 11, 2001. Then, suddenly, people began to wonder if protecting the executive wasn't such a good idea after all.

It was a weird idea to me, a Democrat, because I had seen how much protection the executive wasn't allowed when that office was occupied by Bill Clinton. But what legitimately made my skin crawl was when you heard people start talking about how much they wanted to serve George W. Bush, including his Attorney General. People started being loyal to the president himself, not the office.

I say this all the time about Trump, and I suspect I'll need to say it more: Trump is not just Trump. Trump is an aspect of something more. We will not solve the problems presented by Trump by defeating him politically (although that will help); the legal system is VERY important to use, for two reasons: 1) He broke laws. Let me repeat that for those in the back of the room: HE BROKE LAWS. If we aren't willing to prosecute him or someone like him for breaking those laws, a) those laws aren't worth much and b) we can't say with a straight face that everyone is equal before the law (and getting "before the law" is fraught as it is for people who don't have means); and perhaps more importantly 2) Trump's crimes were not his alone. Yes, Trump sexually assaulted people all by himself, but the corruption around payments, hush money, money laundering, and other business improprieties were not committed solely by him. Trump had accomplices, and in some cases he was just the face of something larger. We can vote for his opponent every time he's on the ballot--and we should--but that does nothing to his collaborators and wallets. And we need to hold them accountable, because if we do not, it doesn't matter if we're dealing with Trump--we will be dealing with somebody.

I say this now because I think it's important to understand that Nixon wasn't just Nixon and GW Bush wasn't just GW Bush. Was Nixon unlikable? Probably--but he had also served in Congress for six years and as the vice president for eight. And it doesn't matter whether Eisenhower liked him--although the fact that their families were combined through marriage might shed some light on that--Nixon had built up the network he needed; perhaps it is better to say that he had built up the role he needed in an existing network. And was Bush II something of an outsider when he came to the presidency in 2001? Maybe, but the fact that his father Bush I had been a member of Congress, a UN ambassador, Liaison with China, CIA Director, Vice President, and then, oh yeah, President, meant that Bush II could call on a network as well.

Trump has his own networks, and as much as we want to snicker about casinos, failed hotels and golf courses, and reality television, his tutelage under Roy Cohn should give some pause, to say nothing of all of the politicians he was photographed with over the years, as well as his closeness with Rupert Murdoch before the 2016 election. (I'll let you draw your own conclusions about Jeffrey Epstein.) He may very well be a clown, but the circus he's headlining for sews its tents in Hell.

What, really, would loyalty to any of these men mean?

Deb in the City

Solace of an empty space (Day 26)

I went for a walk in one of my local powerspots earlier this week. To look at these pictures, you might wonder why I have to wander off to other parts of Boston at all. Honestly, sometimes I wonder the same thing.

 

This was a particularly cold day, but the upshot was that I had this big, beautiful green space pretty much all to myself. I always wonder about that in Boston--if you didn't come here in the last decade, you're used to the cold in the winter--but I wasn't complaining. I reveled in my good fortune to have the space all to myself, as if the state of Massachusetts, the city of Boston, and another prominent organization decided to give me a little bit of a gift that I could enjoy all by myself.

 

I feel a little guilt keeping this all to myself, and it shouldn't just be mine. Hopefully the next cold day I'm there, I'll have a little more company.

 Deb in the City (see why I like it here?)

Lift Our Kids Lobbying (Day 25)

My plans were derailed today when I was reminded that the Lift Our Kids Coalition had scheduled a lobbying day at the state house for today. I did not want to go--it's cold, I never feel I'm dressed right for anything, I wanted to read--but then I remembered that people in this prosperous state are food insecure, cold, and live in unstable housing, so changed my sweater, put on a coat, and went to the state house.

I complained to someone that the whole process of lobbying is a pre-scripted pantomime. And it is. I felt just a little better when the lead legislative sponsor, State Senator Sal DiDomenico, said pretty much the same thing, and acknowledged the injustice of having to do this in order to secure food and safety for the most vulnerable among us. But here we are, so there I went.

 

I went around with two other people, then another two toward the end, visiting the offices of 23 state representatives. We did not meet with any reps, and only half the time did we find any staff people. But that was fine; we were able to have good conversations with half the staff members, many of whom seemed informed and sympathetic. The big ask wasn't just to support it, but to make it one of the top five budget priorities for 2025 when they speak to the Ways and Means Committee. Here's hoping they can get the message to their representatives.

There's a bunch of different asks, but I think one fact makes it clear why this needs to be included in the budget: the request for an increase in the amount of cash the poorest of the poor receive will not even bring them into "deep poverty". Deep poverty, which is an income of half of the federal poverty threshold, would be a monthly income of about $2100 for a family of three. The grants that family receives now in Massachusetts is $783. If the legislature does raise this by the twenty percent the coalition is asking for, the new amount will be less than $940, still over $100 per month UNDER deep poverty. 

Let me remind you: I am talking about the state of Massachusetts, home to Harvard, MIT, some of the best hospitals in the world, and a thriving tourism sector. We can do better.

Don't worry, being poor isn't going to be any easier. Just as Governor Healey cut the increased cash assistance this fiscal year, it's highly likely that she, like Baker before her, will cut this increase even if it passes, and that will be another fight. But that will be another fight worth having--and worth leaving the comfort of my home--because no one anywhere, but especially here, should suffer that way. 

Deb in the City

Happy Valentine's Day (Day 24)

A quick hello today because I have some important plans :)

Happy Valentine's Day!

Deb in the City

Five down, 11 more to go (Day 23)

Yeah, I know, I've got a bunch of lists. And yeah, I know, it's not healthy to get caught up goals, because everything is ephemeral, blah blah blah. But I'm still going to brag--and I mean brag--that I have now transcribed almost one-third of the saga I spent about six years working on. Five installments out of sixteen. Yes, some of them are longer than others, but I suspect we can get that to come out in the wash. I mean, don't worry--there's going to be a lot of editing.

I had stopped counting words at a certain point--that's not as easy as it sounds when you're writing by hand--but I just tallied up these five installments, and I'm at 122,508 words. Some need to be deleted, some need to be added, but let's say that's a pretty good approximation (and thankfully less than I thought I'd be looking at). 

Alright: approximately a quarter million more words to go. Let's do it!

Deb in the City

 

Wanderings in Brookline (Day 22)

As I said, I feel a need to connect to certain places frequently. I'm a little saddened that heavy snow tomorrow is going to prevent me from my walk around the North End (but then I think about the projected snowfall, and no, really, it's fine, the North End will be there next Tuesday). But there are some spaces I like to visit to reconnect with, but not as often.

My husband had an appointment in the medical area today. I got excited and asked him to take me with him so I could walk into Brookline from there. I haven't been to Brookline in a while, but it was a place I used to go to twice a week when my children were in Hebrew School. (I know, I should call it Religious School, but the idea was sold to me as Hebrew School, and some habits persist.) I spent hours upon hours walking down Harvard, Beacon, and Longwood. There were some charms--it's a popular place to live for a reason--but by the summer of 2022, Harvard Ave was beginning to be infested with the usual upwardly urban suspects: a Tatte, overly large housing developments, and, of course, phone stores. I hadn't been in a while, and it was okay. However, I did find myself craving some dried beans (no, seriously) from one of the newer shops on Harvard Street, and I found myself walking the same routes I walked for a decade.

My husband's appointment took less than an hour. In that time, I was able to walk to Harvard Street and back, getting my dried bean (and honey), and then picking up some treats at the Japanese cafe for the remaining child at home. Are donuts and carbonated juice healthy? No, but it's better than the fast food he asked for. Plus he loves the rice balls, and it's nice to give someone a little thrill. I'll have to go back there sometime as it looks like they've expanded the seating area.

The Brookline Booksmith, which has been there since before I was born, has expanded a little bit since I last visited. That may or may not make up for the Taco Bell across the street, but it doesn't do much to ameliorate the vacancies on the first two blocks, including a corner CVS. Whatever rot is infecting Boston has also made it to Brookline.

It was nice to visit, but that's enough for now. My son likes the rice balls, so maybe that's my excuse to go back in about a month. Then again, some things aren't good for you in large measure.

Deb in the City

Power spots (Day 21)

As sleep deprived as I was yesterday, I was determined to go for a walk. I made tea--an emergency measure--and waited for my husband to get home from the gym. (Why he wanted to go for a long walk after he worked out can only be chalked up to how much he loves me.) 

We took the Orange Line to the Mass Ave stop, walked to the Charles (after a detour on Newbury Street), walked along it to Beacon Hill, walked down Cambridge Street to Government Center, crossed into Haymarket and the edge of the North End, then walked to Long Wharf. We walked along Atlantic until we got to Essex, which is one of the borders of Chinatown, and followed Essex as it turned into Boylston and walked into Back Bay.

The pond in my area just doesn't compare to the Harbor

When I think of Boston, this is what I think of

 

The energy of the city changed once we were in Back Bay, and not in the good way. It felt more stagnant. We ended up at the Prudential Center to walk to the train station, and wow, was it packed. Weirdly so; almost as if people didn't have anywhere else to go. I was grateful to finally get back to my sleepier part of Boston after a slow train ride.

Should I avoid Back Bay during the weekends? Maybe, now that I don't have to take a child there anymore. But I can't avoid that part of the city entirely, because much as I recoil from what it's becoming, I do get a buzz in certain parts of it.

Does anything show your love of a city more than whining about it?

Deb in the City

Alternative universes are overrated (Day 20)

My husband and I finished The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin last night. He lived in NYC longer than I did, so his feelings are a little different,  but I loved it. It read like a love letter to cities, period. It also drew on the idea of alternate universes, which is maybe why they're on the brain now.

There is an alternate universe, for example, in which I got enough sleep last night, and because of that I can take one of my signature long walks. I'm also able to make good choices, in that other reality, in which I stay away from tea because it ends up bothering my stomach, instead of gravitating toward it because of the caffeine. 

Sounds like a nice place, at least for today. But in that alternate reality, I wasn't the person not one but two young adult children wanted to call when they were concerned or upset, in the middle of the night. Yes, maybe I do sleep better there, but I suspect I'm not as much of a source of comfort.

So I'll take it here, sip some tea, maybe be able to power through a walk after all, and check in on my children. It's not so bad here.

Deb in the City

Books, again, for the win (Day 19)

There's a bunch of things I suddenly find myself not wanting to spend time on right now: newsletters that people, while well-meaning, aren't qualified to write (yes, of course, anyone can write about anything they want, but when it's quasi-medical advice, that should be left to people with trainings), webinars, news wrap-ups...even *gas* possibly the Economist daily briefings. (Is that wrong?) 

I enjoy reading, and I think I have a responsibility to keep up with events, but as I find myself digging harder into books, I find myself, once again, less impressed with more digestible bits of information. This isn't about me being better than the news; it's about context. And no, I'm not talking about the talking heads everyone rightfully rolls their eyes at. Some things--many things--really are complex, and they require a lot of background. More and more, I find myself reading the news and feeling cheated. I want more, but I'm not going to get it from the news outlets.

I worry that I'm possibly making my universe just a little smaller, but I'm using that time wisely, learning new things and completing some projects. That, probably, is more important than the Daily Briefings (right?!).

Deb in the City

Narrative Control (Day 18)

American entertainment made a show of diversifying during the pandemic protests in light of George Floyd's murder. They caught the moment, and good. I'd like to think they realized that, in addition to profits they could generate, they also realized that stories that featured people who weren't exclusively white and straight could be just as interesting as those that did.

That did not last long. People felt their stomachs drop when the Batgirl movie was canceled; sounded like it needed some editing, but it's hard to believe that it was in worse shape than the majority of the movies in the DC franchise. The fact that the lead actor is a woman who isn't white was not lost on people.

There have been many other stories; one that sticks out for me is the cancellation of the series Tom Swift, which was headlined by a Black gay man. I don't think that was a coincidence.

I don't watch soap operas very much, but I do keep up with what's going on. I caught the news this summer about a Day of Our Lives producer being fired after consistent, egregiously inappropriate behavior toward actresses. Still, I was surprised to see yesterday that one of their front-burner actresses is now suing the production company for retaliation; she is apparently the one who escalated the matter, and as a result the show seemed to play games with her contract renewal.

Of note is that the show also lost a slew of actresses in the last year, many of whom were very long-time favorites of the audience. Let me remind you: soap operas tend to be watched by more women than men, and the focus has traditionally been on the women's stories. 

In 2022, when this contraction began, Sarah Kendzior, one of my favorite writers, made a chilling pronouncement on Twitter. This, she said, wasn't about profits; this was about narrative control. Sarah has tended to be correct, even when her predictions are awful (see: the Trump presidency). And yet this prediction I had trouble wrapping my head around, until I remembered something: Backlash by Susan Faludi.

I read this when my young husband and I were expecting our first baby, thirty years ago. There's a lot of good stuff there, and when I identify as a feminist, I think about what Faludi wrote about: the systematic degradation of women in the legal system, health care system, workplace, and culture. (Yes, she talked about women who weren't white in addition to those who were.) Part of her thesis is that women started being inundated with objectifying images and products (see: Victoria's Secret, Designer Rape Sequences) not in spite of legal gains made in the 1970s, but because of it. That, in essence, was the backlash.

Yep, Kendzior was right again. Here we are, thirty years later, rhyming with our recent history.

I want to be able to say that there is something we can do about this, but what? It's not like people don't want to see these movies--but even when they make hundreds of millions of dollars, they still manage to get in a backhand. Ironically, for all of our veneration of money and profit, culture is surprisingly immune to commercial success when it's threatened by change.

It's still, frankly, dangerous to be a woman, but the backlash of the 1980s had no small effect on the women who ran for seats in the House of Representatives, not to mention state offices. That is, ultimately, the lesson of Backlash: they push us, and then we push back. 

It shouldn't have to be this way, but here we are.

Deb in the City

Distractions (Day 17)

I got things done today. I guess you could call me productive: I checked off most of the boxes I made for myself today. And yet I did not experience as much satisfaction or "accomplishment" as you would think. Who knows why, but I think it's due to being constantly interrupted, and even distracted. 

Do I need to restructure my days? I thought I'd shaken off the Cult of Multi-Tasking, but now that I think of it, I actually look for opportunities to "be efficient". Yesterday, for example, I took a long walk to a cafe so I could read for all of thirty minutes (and since the music was loud, I didn't get as much read as I might have in the same amount of time).

This is different from the idea of "mental candy", an idea I'm taking from Andrea Chalupa of Gaslit Nation; it's the opposite of rewarding yourself for powering through, and I've found it more, er, effective. (Yeah, I know, but I suspect anyone who's ever tried to create something understands the perverse instinct to do anything but.)

Do I need to cut down on my work? But...I don't want to. Something's got to give, but not sure what. More later!

Deb in the City

Finally into K-Pop (Day 16)

And it is all thanks to Nile Rodgers, who collaborated with Le Sserafim last year on Unforgiven. (If you were listening to good pop music in the 1980s, you heard people saying "produced by Nile Rodgers" all the time; if he approves or collaborates, it's a good bet.)

My current K-pop favorites include:

Any Song by Zico

Somewhere by Song Yerin

OMG by New Jeans--who am I kidding, I like pretty much their whole catalog

And July by Heize, Dean, and dj frizz

BOOM by DPR Live and DPR Ian (no, seriously--watch the video)

zombie pop by DPR Ian

(I still can't get into BTS. It's okay, I'll think they'll be okay without me.)

There's a little more, but not much (I'm picky). Please send suggestions my way!

 

Deb in the City

Three down, 38 more to go (Day 15)

I had to deal with a bureaucracy today. January featured a lot of that, and as anyone who has ever had to do that for extended periods of time can tell you, it takes a lot out of you. (By design, I would say, but that's a post for another day.) I got done what I needed to, but one does not use the word "accomplished" when talking about this particular organization. I don't feel "job well done" as much as I do frazzled.

So I'm going to focus instead on something I did manage to get done, specifically finally reading and finishing A Hero Born by Jin Yong. I have been meaning to read that for a few years, and finally got it done. It's not the usual kind of story I read, but I see the appeal. If the dialogue were updated, I could see myself reading a lot of wuxia. The skeptic in me will always struggle just a little with fantasy, even as I write it, but this category requires only a little bit of suspension of disbelief.

And great! Knocked that off my list, so now I only have 38 more books to read for 2024. This is less than I've taken on for other years, but I want to get a couple of other things done this year. Also, I don't need the constant anxiety about not getting something done that is supposed to be, you know, enjoyable. 

As I've written or at least implied recently, I think "productivity" and "accomplishments" are at best coping mechanisms, at worst scams. Those should not be goals in and of themselves. But if I have to choose between that and talking about my attempts to deal with government bureaucracies? You'd better believe I will be coming here to brag about every title I check off.

Deb in the City

Frosting (No, really) (Day 14)

I promise I won't do this very often, but on occasion I can do something clever in the kitchen and maybe, just maybe, someone will find it useful.

Short version, because I found myself writing a longish post about a recipe and oh god, please no: measure out equal amounts of chocolate chips and water, boil said water and pour on chocolate chips. Stir and cool--use an ice bath and/or put it in the fridge or freezer for a few minutes until cold but not frozen. Then--and this is the crazy part--add a little bit of peanut butter and boom! You go from a think glaze to something that you can legitimately spread onto a cake or whatever else you put frosting on.

I was originally going to use just the chocolate and water, which I have done a few times and gotten to mousse consistency, but I had better things to do on Friday then stir chocolate for that long. I remembered something I'd read in one of Erin McKenna's cookbooks about coconut oil rescuing frosting that had started to melt (her frosting recipe is based on coconut oil). Guessing that the secret to that approach was really the saturated fat, I suspected the peanut butter would work--and it did.

Needless to say, you could use another nut butter or tahini, which I imagine would be delicious. You could also use something like cashew cream, but then I'd start out with less water during the melting phase.  

Saturated fat is not healthy, but if you're going to eat it, have it with fiber, i.e., a whole food like nuts or avocados, not coconut oil, palm oil, or vegan butter. (There's a surprising amount of saturated fat in those chocolate chips as it is.) I have a sweet tooth like so many other people, but since the Korean side of my family runs to high cholesterol regardless of what we eat, I'd like to indulge my taste for sweets without feeling like I'm shortening my life. Crazy, I know.

Deb in the City

A Gaping Hole (Day 13)

Well wow, can I call the obvious or what? As I was complaining yesterday about the unbuilt space for the Harvard Bookstore at the Prudential Center, the bookstore was putting out a statement that, in fact, they were abandoning the project. Apparently, an entity that's been in business for decades and was possibly partnered with the owners of the Red Sox and the Boston Globe couldn't make the financing for the project they had agreed to build work. They will instead be investing whatever money was going to go into the second location into spiffing up their existing store in Cambridge.

They can keep it. And they should be ashamed of themselves.

There are two bookstores on nearby Newbury Street: Trident Booksellers (and Cafe) and Posman Books. There is also the very charming Beacon Hill Books and Cafe. There is also an independent bookstore in my area that packs a lot of selection into a small space. Between them, I can probably find the majority of what I'm looking for when I want to spend money on books, games, and puzzles. And if worse comes to worst, I can go to Bookshop.org. I'm not hurting for bookstores, so this isn't a tragedy for me.

What bothers me is that there is another big hole at the other end of the Prudential Center ever since Lord & Taylor closed in 2021. The Pru is a big space and there is a bunch of activity in between, but Barnes & Noble (the predecessor of the aborted Harvard Bookstore) and Lord & Taylor were anchors. There is also something eerie about an empty space that big.

There are ways to repurpose those spaces, and Meet Me By The Fountain lays out a lot of them. I would love to see, oh, maybe a place for all of those people in need of shelter right now. That really is the most pressing need, but I won't hold my breath since I don't feel like passing out. If not, the emptiness could be used as a space for a community college, or maybe a community center. It could be a play space for families that can't afford to pay for the privilege. It could be a teenage recreation center. It could be a lot of things, but the Prudential Center is going to wait until the find the perfect tenant that can pay them the rent they feel The Market has entitled them to, and thus it's going to be a long time before either of those spaces get filled.

This is not good. We need spaces where we can meet up. Yes, the library, but just because one space exists doesn't mean we shouldn't have any more of them. We need places where we can interact with each other, not merely pass them by. And we need to not feel like we are living in a shell, because there's enough of that as it is.

Deb in the City

Degradation (Day 12)

My recently departed son forgot a couple of items when he left. Like the helicopter parents we are, my husband and I mailed him a package immediately. We asked if he wanted a sweater, especially after telling us he was cold the first night, and he said no.

Two days after receiving that package, he told me that no, actually, he does want the sweater. Because I don't want to do this again, I also bundled up a few other items. 

Off to the post office, but the one in my part of town is an unfunny joke. It is understaffed, which isn't the fault of the employees, but half of them are disdainful on a good day, and given how long the lines can get, good days are few and far between. Given that, it made more sense to take the train to the Prudential Center, which has a famously speedy post office.

But somehow I had forgotten the train part.

After 8:30 and before 10 in the morning, the train isn't crowded. Okay, good. But the trade off is that the service is slow. The train that was supposed to leave two minutes after I arrived lingered for at least five, and then it "stood by" for their regular "schedule adjustments" at a station halfway between my origin and destination. 

This is to say nothing of the poor man sleeping with his face leaning against his bicycle's handlebars, or the person who got off of the same train, loudly talking to no one in particular about a choice he made that kept him out of prison for 25 to life. How comforting to see a member of the transit police on the platform. I'm so glad the state is spending its resources wisely to deal with the problem. 

Oh, look, another empty storefront I passed on my way to the Prudential Center

And of course, the unbuilt storefront within the mall

But hey, the post office at the Pru worked just as well as I hoped, and this time the employee there didn't start in on a mini-rant about how some people deserve services and some don't. (I'd forgotten our last encounter, but it probably wouldn't have changed my mind.) I would have nothing to complain about at the Pru if the water fountain had been functional. But hey, since I could buy a $6 latte as well as gourmet chocolate, it's all a wash.

On the train back now, and it's already "paused" twice. My husband could have picked me up, but since the only thing worse than the MBTA is Boston traffic, he'll just meet me at a train station. 

I have the time to spend, I suppose, even though there are other things I could have done with it. But I do not like to think about people who don't. It shouldn't be too much to ask for a safe and functional postal service and public transit system in this day and age, but here we are.

Deb in the City

What if I don't want to Do It Right? (Day 11)

This week, I've had the time to delve into my math studies in earnest. It was a little rough getting back into it as there had been an almost year-long hiatus, but once I reacquainted myself with it, I remembered why I wanted to do it in the first place: it's fun.

Part of what made this week's math (nth-Order Linear Homogeneous Differential Equations with Constant Coefficients, in case you were wondering) enjoyable was...factoring. You know how everyone complains about the quadratic formula, i.e.

x= (-b +/- (b^2 - 4ac)^1/2)/2a ?

After playing with 6th order equations and trying to factor them, the quadratic formula looks like a relative luxury (which of course is only available for 2nd order equations). It will not help you (at first) with something like:

x^6-5x^4+16x^3+36x^2-16x-32=0

So you've got to go in and play with groupings, guess at what value of x might make the equation zero out, and you're going to go down a couple of rabbit holes for a little bit until you do, finally, factor down to a quadratic equation, which is going to be a necessity when you find yourself dealing with complex (a combination of real and imaginary) numbers. And it's tedious, but then you remember that it is the tedium that makes it fun. At no point did I wish that there was an equation similar to the quadratic for, say, 4th-level equations. 

This kind of work hit a sweet spot for me: it required me to pull on skills I already have but use them in a different way, but wasn't so unfamiliar that I could only touch the perimeter of the problem. It was solvable, but it was a challenge, and it's exactly the kind of thing I'm happy to lose myself in for a couple of hours. (But as I told my husband several times, really, don't worry, I can stop any time I want.)

This is work that I find enjoyable, in no small part because I don't have a deadline attached to it, except what I assign to myself. I'm not getting paid to do it by someone who wants me to solve thousands of these equations in a day. I don't have to be productive, I don't have to be efficient; I am doing it for its own sake. I am doing it because it's fun, and making the work go faster would not make it more fun, but less.

This freedom followed me into Korean language study as well. (Yes, I'm using Duolingo right now, just like everyone else.) I kick myself for what I don't know and always get upset when I don't have something memorized, or I have it memorized for the wrong reason. It's so hard for me to Do It Right, and this is probably the primary reason why I have shied away from formal language study my entire life. 

But yesterday as I was playing with conjugations and reminding myself of vocabulary, completely not the way you're supposed to, I had a little epiphany: I was also having fun playing with the language, and even if that owl and its little mob of animated characters didn't approve, I was also, bit by bit, learning something. I might not ever be fluent, and I might always need subtitles on K-dramas and K-movies, but oh well. I can play with words for their own sake--just as I can play with numbers for their own sake--and it's okay if I don't "master" it. I can learn for its own sake--and seriously, what parlor tricks would anyone want to see me perform with math or Korean at this point anyway?

For many things, there is no correct way; in many cases, there are multiple means by which we can achieve a goal--but maybe a limited number of them will we enjoy. It bothers me now to think of all the years I didn't play with certain subjects because I wasn't going to do it Just So, causing my very brain to miss out on activity that can keep it healthy, and my soul (if I have one) to miss out on things that could make it soar. Well...ugh.

I'll let people with more time on their hands engage in pedagogical debates; I've got some math, Korean, and chemistry to get to.

Deb in the City