On The Blog

Sunday, March 31, 2024

An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States (Day 70)

I am reading this book with my husband. It wasn't what I expected--it follows the narrative of the colonization of the US from the indigenous peoples' perspective, but it is less about them than what is done to them--but it's very good. It is also very disturbing. 

I'm not one to put something down because it's too hard--it's my responsibility to look at those things--but I could not get through the last chapter fast enough. I will not go into too much detail, but let's just say that "scalping" was actually started in Ireland, and however badly you feel about the term "redskin" you don't feel bad enough.

There's no way to know about some things without being disturbed. 

Deb in the City

Saturday, March 30, 2024

Today's random adventures (Day 69)

My husband and I took a long walk into a different part of Boston today. We stopped into a new grocery store, then got lunch at a newish restaurant--quinoa bowls are the best bowls--stopped at home to make our son lunch, then went out again to pick up another few items. 

We've been chilling out with kdramas since we got home--The Escape of the Seven: Resurrection is addictive and insane--and I've got quinoa cooking for tomorrow. Here's hoping I can repeat the quinoa bowl, but will probably take a rain check on the walk.

Deb in the City

Friday, March 29, 2024

Garden Map (Day 68)

I promised my gardening partner that I would give her a proposed map for the garden tomorrow. As much as I'm trying to plan better this year, I ended up not starting on this until 6:30 PM. But it's a first draft, and that's the start.

No one should get excited about my skills--I had my son the art student create this file; my first pass drawing...was always going to be a first pass.

Cool cool cool...now I just need to get the calendar to my partner. By tomorrow morning. 

This is fine!

Deb in the City

Northeastern Climate Justice Action Plan (Day 67ish)

Not even going to apologize for missing yesterday as I had a late night out (well, for me. I got home after 9:30--you decide).

A friend and I joined a tour and conversation about the Climate Justice Action Plan a group at Northeastern University is vetting. This was, according to a member of the team, something like their tenth iteration, and there will be more.

It seems like the group needs to bring evidence to Northeastern that the very reasonable things they want to do should be done. That's so very Northeastern; it's also so very typical of any entrenched organization. The team behind this seems earnest, and I hope they succeeded.

The energy was hopeful, and the evening featured good food, good conversations, and some good performances of poetry and song. Northeastern, don't let us down.

Deb in the City

Wednesday, March 27, 2024

Accepted! (Day 66)

I am happy to report that my son has been accepted as a transfer student to Mass College of Art, starting in the fall. There are still some details we need to work out regarding scheduling and financing (like everyone else), but this is for definite sure a good thing.

Deb in the City

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Safe! (Day 65)

Happy to report that I made it to this late hour without any more vehicular incidents. The car was indeed towed to a repair shop, and the young man who picked up the car was duly impressed. Er...not sure that's a good thing.

We have a rental and will be using it for hopefully not too many days while we wait for the repair. Fingers crossed that the drama is over (for now).

Deb in the City 

Crash (Day 64ish)

Hopefully I can be forgiven for not blogging yesterday. Reason: someone rear-ended my husband when he was yards away from the spot where he was supposed to pick me up. Pro-tip: drivers from the suburbs are the ones who make Boston's roads so scary. 

Everyone is fine, but the bumper, not so much. Hopefully it can be taken in for service immediately--and by taken in, I mean towed. Yeah, it was that bad.

Deb in the City

Sunday, March 24, 2024

Cold Sunday (Day 63)

Spring Break is over, so my husband drove one son back to college while I stayed back with his sick brother. I got some things done, but the cold in the morning sapped my will to do too much more.

When he got back, my husband assured me that it didn't feel that cold outside, so we went for a long walk along the Emerald Necklace so we could pick up art supplies for the remaining child at home. It was a long walk, but a good walk; I relish my ability to do these things, having seen so many people lose that ability. 

We took the train home--walking's great, but we didn't want to spend every waking hour on it--and arrived to find Purim treats from our good friends. We nibbled while I cooked and washed up and my husband read to me. 

Cold day, but not a bad one.

Deb in the City

Saturday, March 23, 2024

5 Stars for A Master of Djinn (Day 62)

Raining all day here, and the next best thing to batch cooking on such a day is reading. We finished P. Djeli Clark's A Master of Djinn, and I can't recommend it enough. Alternate History, mystery, fantasy, and really well done on all fronts. 

Now where is the sequel?

Deb in the City

Friday, March 22, 2024

Pro-tip: don't announce you're going to Haymarket (Day 61)

I spent too much time on the computer yesterday, and in general I feel that way a lot. Today I decided that I was going to have An Adventure, so I went to Haymarket and Boston Public Market. (Would love to show you pictures of my walk along the Charles, but this app is ridiculous with pictures, so I'm hoping you'll take my word for it.)

Adventures in Boston are extra special when the MBTA is dysfunctional, but the upshot is that I got to share a surprise bus ride with my daughter. Once we parted company, I dropped off a book at the library, walked along the river to Beacon Hill, got myself a cookie, hung out at another library (this almost balances Boston's deficits), and went shopping at Haymarket. 

My youngest son is home for spring break this week, so I offered to get him pizza from Haymarket Pizza. Alas, they are closed (again). He pleaded with me to go to Bricco in the North End, which I refused but then agreed to after my husband met me. He, it turned out, had some demands from my other son. Half an hour and a couple of shout-filled calls with the boys later, we had a sub (but not from Bricco), two chocolate chip muffins from Bova (the only place in the North End my other son likes), and then some hermits for my husband. 

Definitely an adventure. Next time I might not mention where I'm going until I get back.

Deb in the City

Thursday, March 21, 2024

Not sure if I feel better now (Day 60)

In light of the exchange I had yesterday, and a brief interaction with someone online, I decided to take a look at the Southern Poverty Law Center to see if I could grab some statistics. Well, I can, somewhere, but I got derailed while searching by, well, some loser who heads a not-at-all crazy neo-nazi organization (I don't want to name either of them because I don't want to show up in a search; also, these guys don't deserve proper case) advocating the sexual assault of women--white women--as "war brides" who can't be trusted to choose how to use their own reproductive systems.

I've lived through trauma, but my triggers are random and personal; I'm not someone who can't read about terrible things, and in some ways I think it's my responsibility. But the article above is deeply disturbing, so please be warned. And so is the whole site--because they are talking about deeply disturbing things.

I listen to Gaslit Nation, and I know people have accused them of being conspiracy theorists. The Southern Poverty Law Center is a widely respected organization, and believe me when I tell you that they come to the same conclusions. Or rather, don't believe me, go take a look for yourselves. If anything, Gaslit Nation sees more of a use for Twitter or whatever the hell it's called now; after reading just a little of this, I don't want to look at even references to tweets again, but Elon Musk is pure evil. Shame on the mainstream press, especially the business press, for legitimizing him. 

As hard as it is for me to read their analysis, I understand that the people who write for them have to monitor horrific people and spaces. I hope they rotate out of those jobs regularly, because that might rot their souls.

I'll be reading more of the Southern Poverty Law Center going forward. As I said, it's my duty. It won't make me feel better, but as a consolation, I won't feel as awkward when I have to clap back at people for off-handed bigotry.

Deb in the City

Wednesday, March 20, 2024

Even if it doesn't matter (Day 59)

I was in a conversation with someone today who was talking about a lot of the topics I talk about, including systemic injustice. I was nodding along with her until she said something about people who came over now and get everything done for them. I'm grateful that it was a group conversation so I had the space to pause and process. Yes, I did hear her say that, and yes, I had to say something.

I pointed out that I wasn't seeing a crowd of people getting everything they wanted or needed; I was instead seeing families sleeping in airports in the middle of winter. I could have gone on, but there wasn't time. I pointed out that my father was an immigrant, as were two of my great-grandparents. What this person said didn't match what I saw and knew. 

I have no idea whether I persuaded her or not; I didn't bring all of my citations and rhetoric with me. But it was my duty to say something, because it's something that comes up so much, and I don't want later generations to say that I was one of the many who stood by while people maligned refugees. 

I don't believe god or any other deity is going to judge me in death, and truth be told, I don't think I'll be important enough for history to take too much note of me, except bundled in as a statistic. My opinion ultimately doesn't matter, but my silence does.

Deb in the City

Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Maybe we really should just be listening to our bodies (Day 58)

I think about health topics more than I want to. To paraphrase someone else, I could have learned three foreign languages in all of the time I've spent thinking about, reading about, agonizing over, and trying to practice good nutrition and exercise. I did make a big breakthrough in my thinking and practice of exercise last year, and I've felt better since then, but I admit that food continues to wear me down. This is due in large part to my food sensitivities, but that's not all.

I consider myself mostly immune to trends around eating. Frankly, when my sensitivities have limited me as much as they have, I don't have room to play. The only "choice" I'm making these days is not eating meat, and since that's been the case since I was sixteen (other than the period I was bullied by my college boyfriend), I'm not apologizing. Since it's accepted that eating meat does a lot of really bad things to you, yeah, I don't feel like I'm being indulgent. I'm a vegetarian because I want to be; I'm a vegan because eggs and dairy make me ill, and I can't eat wheat or soy because those set me back for a week.

And it's not just food sensitivities--there is nothing like an experience of cancer, particularly colon cancer, to make you sensitive about your diet. I am never consuming alcohol again, and since I've never liked it in the first place, why should I? I go out of my way to eat legumes and whole grains as well as fruits and vegetables--and nuts and seeds--and avoid coconut products and refined sugar--because of all of the evidence around mortality, cancer, and general health. It's not my fault I developed cancer--my diet was still pretty good by modern American standards--but I think it's understandable why I prioritize things that give me a better chance of living longer.

So my behavior isn't about trends--with the exception of time restricted eating. That was something recommended to me by my acupuncturist a few years ago, and all of the research I did on it showed no ill effects. In fact, it was mentioned as one of the only effective "dieting" strategies, and it also is said to good things for blood sugar and cholesterol. What was the harm? I mean, other than the fact that I can't eat large meals (thanks to a very small but manageable hernia between my stomach and duodenum), and that being hungry at night was sometimes just depressing?

I don't know what or why, but today the American Heart Association released results of a study that showed that time-restricted eating may yield short-term benefits but may have long-term negative effects; at the very least, it's not shown to have long-term positive effects. This isn't a perfect study and more work needs to be done, but for now it's enough to make me think that maybe I don't have to try to force feed myself and that maybe, just maybe, it's okay to go back to eating five or so small meals over the course of the day.

I'm reminded of something Dalia Kinsey, the author of Decolonizing Wellness wrote. Your body's reaction to hunger is going to be hoarding fat; even if you're not trying to lose weight, that's not a good outcome. More importantly, only you know how much your body needs of anything, regardless of what is advised for a serving or a number of servings. And while that may sound touchy-feely, that was one of the most profound messages out of Ultra-Processed People by Chris van Tulleken, and yes, he had plenty of scientific evidence to back it up.

Listening to our bodies can be really hard when we're subjected not only to ultra-processed foods but also marketing (see Raj Patel on that one), which is why it's important to do our best to break from both. I can tell you it's much easier to break from ultra-processed foods than marketing, no matter what kind of media you choose to consume. But it's worth the effort, however imperfect. Take a deep breath when your experiences contradict claims, and maybe cross your fingers that if you're in alignment with most of the best scientific research, you might have some grace around the rest of it.

Deb in the City

Monday, March 18, 2024

Compost (Day 57)

After the Gardeners Gathering on Saturday and my planning adventures on Sunday, I wanted to keep my momentum going toward getting the season started off well. For me, as much as I of course need to plan around when and what to plant, everything begins and ends with soil. If you've got good soil, your errors in the rest can be more easily forgiven. If you don't have great soil, everything else needs to be perfect, and then you still have room for error.

And while biodiversity is absolutely important, I think good compost can also provide a strong boost. And since I consider myself something of a macrophage, I decided to give our compost piles a turn this morning.

I was pleasantly surprised to run into two of the other gardeners from our community garden who were also at the Gathering; in fact, they were presenters. We spent about twenty minutes running down the ways in which the city had changed and was changing, but as one of them said, we keep at it anyway because that's just how we're moved. Amen (and I don't say that lightly).

I surveyed our plot, and I was surprised again that we had fewer permanent landmark than I'd remembered. I did try to remove two "weed trees", but I think I'm going to need heavier equipment as well as a clear plan if I don't want to disrupt our lavender and saffron too much. Good. This makes it easier for me to plan where to place things.

 

Yeah, I know, this would be more impressive with a Before version, but I'm still proud
 

I spent the next 75 minutes (or so) moving compost from one bin to another, moving woody/stemmy things to one side, and moving matter from our staging area into our compost bins. It was work, and I *really* need to work out today so I can compensate for such uneven movements, but it was also fun and rewarding. Even the staging area, the first stop where our gardeners dump their unwanted plants and sometimes food, had really good looking soil under the woodiness.

I'll go back in a couple of weeks and do this again (if my husband doesn't beat to it; he's a little territorial about the compost). But whoever does it, we'll have good compost to help strengthen our soil--and grow food.

Deb in the City

Sunday, March 17, 2024

Stepping out of my comfort zone (Day 56)

Every year, I really do try to be a better gardener, but like so many, by the time the beginning of July rolls around, I'm spent, especially because of my duties as a co-coordinator. This year, I wanted to try to get ahead of everything, so I finally decided to be organized and went through the seed packets I have (this does not include the seed packets my garden partner has) and created an Excel spreadsheet a few weeks ago.

Today, inspired by yesterday's gathering, I went through the packages again to get an idea of *how* everything should be planted; I'm pretty sure that half of my problems last year were due to me cramping things in, so this year I wanted to do a better job with that. It's probably for the best

After that, I decided that I should get next level and create a calendar. Oh boy, between going between a website that listed last and first frosts and Accuweather, then cross-referencing with my spreadsheet, I spent about two hours getting in the temperature dates, when seedlings need to be started, when things need to be planted, and when things can begin to be harvested. Oh yeah, when the plot needs to be cleaned up, because otherwise we can't do anything.

Did I mention I still need another set of seed information?

Next step: go to the plot and take a picture of it as it stands now so I can figure out where things should do. My memory is good enough to hit most of the big ticket items, but since we move things around every year, I can't be sure I won't miss anything.

At least it's a break from math...?

Deb in the City

Saturday, March 16, 2024

Gardeners Gathering 2024 (Day 55)

The last frost in Boston is approximately May 1, but the gardening season gets started in March with the Gardeners Gathering. It's an event hosted by the Trustees and, since I've been attending, held at Northeastern University (my alma mater, and more importantly, accessible by T).

COVID, obviously, was a damper on the event--the organizers did a great job, but there's a limit to the community you can build via Zoom--and last year felt like it was getting its groove back. But this year felt like a party, and not the least because it opened with a tribute to Mel King, the Black state rep who in 1983 made history by making it into the run-off in the mayoral election. He did not win--for some reason, Boston's voters thought Ray Flynn was the man to lead--but King's legacy and continued work loomed large. I did not realize until after his death this year that he was also the sponsor of the 1974 legislation that made it possible for community gardens to exist in Massachusetts in the first place. Watching an old interview with him made me appreciate yet again how clearly his generation saw what the problems were and what needed to be done about it. Kudos to King for actually implementing some of those solutions. (And in this case, that will be enough to allow me to forgive him for endorsing Jill Stein for anything.)

I brought my own lunch, and thank goodness, because the program ran late due to the mayor's arrival time. Some of the sessions ended up being standing room only. Not all of them were useful--the bokashi system is just going to be too difficult to implement since I'm not on-site--but I did love the energizing session I went to at the end hosted by the youth arm of Alternatives for Community and Environment. Nice to be energized by younger people--Jesus, you start to feel like a vampire--and nice to dream a little bit about what can make things better.

My co-coordinator and friend walked out with me and my husband when it was over, and she smiled before we left. She couldn't wait to get started in the garden. Same.

Deb in the City

Friday, March 15, 2024

TikTok is so bad, only Steve Mnuchin can save it (Day 54)

I don't care about TikTok anymore than I care about Facebook or Twitter, but I do care that TikTok is being singled out for doing exactly what every other platform does. Cory Doctorow explains why the platform is as garbage as the others; worth a read

I would applaud the US Congress for trying to control TikTok if they were also trying to do it with other platforms. This is not the case. Well, of course it isn't. 

The big winners, based on what happened in India (I'd link to this, but it's from an Economist Newsletter), are going to be YouTube--sorry, Google--sorry, Alphabet and Instagram--sorry, Facebook--sorry Meta. Those services ended up eating the local services that were developed after India banned them. (India and China get into a hell of a lot more than China and the US, in case anyone was wondering.)

Fine, here we are, China should divest, yada yada...but how should we be sanguine when Steve Mnuchin, aka Trump's Treasury Secretary, is now said to be trying to buy TikTok? Are all the people who were concerned about the Chinese government getting a hold of user data and weaponizing it, that somehow wouldn't be a concern if it's Mnuchin's crowd? Uh. Huh. 

Good thing I wasn't going to use TikTok anyway.

Deb in the City

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Six down, ten to go (Day 53)

A brief update: I finished drafting the sixth installment of my saga yesterday. I'm not at the halfway point, but the character is more of an adult now, and therefore more fun to write (and edit). I tormented (and that's the nice word for it) my main character for two installments, but she's starting to find her spine again. Don't worry--she'll suffer yet again before we wrap this up, and we'll also take a little detour into history to answer questions readers will have...but not quite yet.

147,248 words. Let's see what we end up landing on.

Deb in the City

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

History versus the news (Day 52)

I don't read as much of Austin Kleon since he switched over to Substack, first because I didn't want to pay for the subscription, then because of the whole, you know, Substack and Nazis thing. But, before everyone rushed to monetize the mailing list they'd been told would insulate them from the vagaries of social media, I enjoyed a lot of his insights.

One that stands out in particular was that sometimes reading books from a generation ago (or maybe more like two decades ago) provided something we didn't get from the latest and greatest published in the last year. I've been thinking about this a lot since I read Revolutionary Spring.

I pat myself on the back a lot--I know this--but my latest source of self-congratulations is that I lean on books for information as opposed to the news, whether that be radio or print. And I think this is a good position: the trade off of not being up on the latest and greatest is that I get to explore an issue in some depth (bonus: I also have an excuse not to engage in idiotic rages on social media). 

But as much as I complain about the propagandist spin of much of our media, I can't deny that publishing is an arm of the media (and as an indie author, trust me, I know this well). And while they may ultimately produce better media artifacts, they are making decisions that are both sensitive to the moment and shape the moment. I'm not naive--I understand manuscripts aren't published simply because of their quality.

It's fair to say that the books that were published for similar reasons in previous generations, they're not playing the same role in shaping the conversation as they were then. If anything, teasing out the ways in which they formed thoughts--and how their thoughts were informed--is part of the enrichment of "news from the past", and at the same time a little easier than when you're living through the moment.

All a very long wind up to say that the Studs Terkel Radio Archive is one of the best things on the internet. Terkel was an observer with a deep memory, and he knew what was happening as it happened around him (that's unfortunately rare). As such, his conversations and insights can be mind-blowing, as well as making me snap my fingers because someone caught something so perfectly that I've noticed but never been able to put into words. Had just such a moment this morning when listening to him talk to Neil Postman--in 1974--about what was then the latest round of the Education Wars. Give it a listen, and then tool around the rest of the site for your own personal time machine.

Beats skimming for today's news.

Deb in the City

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

The dead of night, thanks to allergies (Day 51)

The worst thing about not getting as much sleep as other people (at least in my home) is having to lie in bed awake for so long before I can turn on the light. I've learned through many early morning hours that, for the most part, the thoughts I have at those times are not thoughts that I should take seriously. I have no idea what the science says about it, but I imagine my thinks it should still be sleeping, and therefore processes thoughts at a level that isn't entirely rational. Because I am, actually, awake, those thoughts tend to look like the worst possible version of my fears and insecurities. Perhaps the lesson of the long, dark nights of our souls isn't that we have to unlock anything, we just have to get through it.

It is far, far better when I can do something as opposed to lying in bed, staring into the dark, waiting for sleep to return, which it almost never does. I do try to make use of my phone during those times, but that concentrated bright light doesn't help much when the rest of the room is dark, and I feel my already weak eyes straining that much more. I have been going into the kitchen once it hits 6 AM--that's a decent time to move around--but I think I'm going to have to start at 5:30 AM. 

Last night saw me wake up around 3 AM, in large part because I wasn't able to work out yesterday due to my allergies. 3 AM is not the worst--it's 2 or 2:30 that makes me feel like I want to fly into the stratosphere. But usually if I can fall asleep around 9 or 9:30 PM, I can stay in bed until around 4 or 4:30 AM. (The night before I slept until 6:30 AM, which was amazing until I realized that it was because of Daylight Savings--but 5:30 isn't bad either.) I have, of course, tried to stay up later in the hopes of waking up later, but staying up until 10:30 PM doesn't buy me later sleep but less sleep--go figure. 

Clearly, I need to make sure I work out, which is why I'm pretty religious about it. But then I need to avoid eating foods that trigger any reactions, and that is harder to control as my reactions are getting a little more serious. Is this why so many people go on vegetable only diets?

Deb in the City

Monday, March 11, 2024

Allergies (Day 50)

I mark the half-way point of my blogging experiment with a really lousy allergy flare up. I know, exciting stuff, but then I never promised that I was going to be constant explosions of surprising insights. Also, pretty sure it isn't just me.

Two possible culprits: earlier spring seems to be bringing earlier pollen, and I've also been told people can have winter allergies. While that wasn't much of a problem when I was younger, entirely possible that it's something that has changed in my body, especially given all of the things that have changed on the planet.

Other possible sources include my worsening food sensitivities. These are not things that show up in an allergy panel, but as an allergist once told me, our bodies' reactions are the best possible indicators. All I know is that I long for the time when I could choose to not eat meat and was a little lactose intolerant; as it is now, reactions to dairy and eggs are uncomfortable but fleeting, while reactions to wheat and soy are frightening, suspending some of my body's systems for a week. I'm more careful than I have been, but even after being assured that a dish I ordered had neither soy nor wheat, I find myself this morning, even after literally rinsing leftovers, sick to my stomach, struggling to keep my eyes open, and experiencing numbness on my tongue and fingertips. 

As with so many things lately, the first thought that comes to mind is "why can't it be both?" However, I'm not sure how safe it is for me to ever go to a Chinese, Japanese, Korean, or Thai place ever again. 

Thank god for Indian food?

Deb in the City

Sunday, March 10, 2024

It's not every day a relative shows up in a book (Day 49)

Finally started reading Beasts of a Little Land by Juhea Kim, and it's really good. I would watch fewer k-dramas if there were more books like this. 

Bonus: one of the main characters in the sprawling cast shares a name with my cousin. This doesn't happen often: Nam is an unusual Korean name, and my cousin's name isn't uncommon, but it isn't the Korean equivalent of John or Michael. (Worth noting that this is the first time this has happened to me, despite having some relatives on the other side of my family with more common names like Lloyd, Prince, Simmons, and even more common names like David, John, and Margaret. )

Obviously I am destined to love this book.

Deb in the City

Saturday, March 9, 2024

Don't worry, Substack, I can wait you out (Day 48)

I'm aghast at how many seemingly ethical actors have chosen to throw in with Substack even after revelations that they are platforming Nazis. If someone locked themselves into the service before--and they've grown dependent on the income from the paid subscriptions--I understand why they've remained. These services don't make it easy to transition away from them, and not everyone has the ability to create their own personalized service. 

But those aren't the only people on Substack, and I'm dismayed to see new or newish people popping up there all the time. This morning, while looking for the blog of one of my favorite authors, I discovered that he recently transitioned to Substack. Just...what? Does Nazi not conjure up images of bigotry and violence that it does for me? Did no one else get the lessons in school about how collaborators and bystanders facilitated them?

I am also unnerved by the sheer number; it's starting to feel like I'm surrounded. It's starting to take on an air of inevitability, as in, "Check my business' Facebook page for information about our hours." I don't have a choice, do I?

No, actually, I do. I'm not the one suffering if I don't subscribe to these people's newsletters, they are (and they can all stop pretending they're fooling anyone by "allowing" you to read their posts as blogs for free: anyone who's been on the internet for over a decade knows that won't last). And as inevitable as Facebook was, as inevitable as Twitter was, as inevitable as Instagram was, they are not now. The momentum had shifted to other platforms--which is something anyone who has been on the internet for five years can tell you. 

There's a universe of people who aren't going to reach me because they've decided to linger in a universe inhabited by Nazis. Well, this is their choice, but I'm going to remember (choices have consequences). And when their audience decides that they don't want to be in a constant state of being their customers, I suspect we'll start seeing a lot of public mea culpas.

The drama--the pageant of passions--is the only thing inevitable on the internet as it is today. I'll just be here, reading my books, wondering when people are going to stop repeating each other's mistakes. 

Bonus: Nazi-free.

Deb in the City

Friday, March 8, 2024

Who's zooming who? (Day 47)

Who knew that my obsessive interest in performance would morph into something of an obsession with propaganda versus history? 

I've been rolling my eyes for over two decades about how the plethora of news outlets focuses on the same stories ad nauseam. I thank The Economist for remembering Myanmar and reminding people of the existence of Cameroon, but even they don't have enough to say about Syria (history is not going to judge any of us well for sitting back while a creep butchered his people for a decade). 

It occurred to me this week that the problem isn't "the news" but me. Why have I been thinking all this time that these outlets was going to include far-flung places like Burkina Faso and Cambodia? Because they've done a thorough job of convincing me--and, I assume, others--that they cover the *important* stories, so if something isn't being covered, it's because it isn't important. The cognitive dissonance has come in because I've been aware of stories that no, really, are important and aren't getting coverage. Surely the problem was that The News wasn't doing its job. But I actually think they have been. They're not just covering what is objectively important--they are *telling you* what is important. 

In case I'm not being clear, let me use another word: they are **deciding** what is important, what is The News. And once you see it that way, and once you understand how much is communicated and shaped through the lens of propaganda, you can take the news for what it's worth. (And yes, that will mean freeing up a lot of time to read books. But then again...books don't publish themselves, for the most part.)

Deb in the City


Thursday, March 7, 2024

Benefits are a lifeline for many (Day 46)

I met someone yesterday who was deeply depressed because her Long-Term Disability benefits (SSDI) had suddenly, erroneously, been cut off at the beginning of the year. As soon as she started speaking, I felt ill. Like so many people, I've had to deal with sudden changes to insurance benefits, and I've had to help family members navigate those bureaucracies. It can be an agonizing process, and wow, I hope people aren't trying to do that on their lunch hours, because the wait times can be forever. 

I've come to the conclusion that difficulties navigating a bureaucracy are a feature, not a bug. In other words, they know that after a certain point enough people are going to give up, and they want it that way, and that means they have fewer services--or guaranteed entitlements--to provide. That is a scam.

And it is deadly, especially when your inaction harms people who are already the most vulnerable. People who are on long-term disability depend on those benefits as their only source of income. Some are fortunate enough to live with family and friends who can provide for them, but many are not. Some of them are also dependent on that money to supplement other benefit programs, particularly the ones that make it possible for them to eat. Losing that money can be a matter of life and death.

The person I met could not stop crying for the first few minutes. She had been spending months trying to sort it out, and she hadn't been able to yet. Doing so required medical notes from her doctor to verify her condition--on a good day, those can be hard to get. Bureaucracies involve more bureaucracies, which is added impetus to forfeit.

Some people have said that sometimes you need to keep calling until you get a kind person who can 1) understand and 2) help you. Well, I agree with the first half: you need to keep calling, and that in itself is exhausting. But finding a kind person, actually, means nothing: the kindest person I spoke to when calling on behalf of a family member gave me incorrect information. She was very nice about it, but the net result was that she wasted as much of my time as the nastier ones.

I have sorted things out on my end, and I think, on balance, it is true that if you persist you can eventually do the same. I sincerely hope my new acquaintance can eventually sort her problems out. But persistence is hard when you have a condition that already qualified for long-term disability and you're thisclose to suicidal depression. 

It's one more symptom of a broken system, and one more reason we need systemic change.

Deb in the City


Wednesday, March 6, 2024

What I've Read (recently) (Day 45)

For the last few years I've participated in the Goodreads Reading Challenge. For those of you who don't know, you enter a goal number of books into Goodreads, and then track your progress. I suppose it's great for someone who has trouble making reading a priority, but that isn't me. Like so many group activities on the internet, it made me nervously aware of whether I was keeping up with the Joneses or, even worse, a past version of myself. (And those versions, for all of my efforts, are really erratic; I have a handful of goals I've been able to stick to for two months, but it's taken me years to get to the point where I can predict what it is I both want and need to do. Making some kind of announcement on a public website that I'm going to read not only a certain number of books, but a specific set of them, frequently made me feel like I was setting myself up to feel like a failure. It may be illogical, but here we are.) All to say that I use Goodreads now primarily to track something I have already read, in large part because, when the planets are aligned just right, I occasionally get a good recommendation that way.

Anyway! I'm using the Boston Public Library's Bibliocommons site to track my reading goals (it's public, but this is primarily for library geeks like me, so I feel less judged). In addition to tracking titles that I am reading or would like to read, I can also track what I want to read. I can also create lists, and this year I pulled from my For Later "shelf" and created a TBR list for 2024 that has all of 41 books. This is less than I usually goal up for, but very realistic given last year and what I want to do this year. (But just to make myself feel better, I also created a TBR 2025 list.) And it's working: as of now, the first week of March, I've read eight of those titles, and unless something catastrophic happens, I think I can meet my goal and, more importantly, knock off some of my other big projects.

The two books I finished this week have been on my list for two years: Blood Scion by Deborah Falaye, and The Ocean of Churn by Sanjeev Sanyal. 

Blood Scion has a compelling story, but the execution was off. I know it was marketed as YA, but the language the characters used seemed off for that crowd, especially when the characters kept referring to themselves as children; that especially didn't ring true. I feel pretty confident that this comes down to editing and not writing, but I suspect I won't be able to tell until Falaye is able to get an adult book published; the constraints of YA seem especially tight.

I wanted to pick up Ocean of Churn because it was something author Shannon Chakraborty recommended, and as she's an even bigger history nerd than I am, I knew it would be good. (I also have had stars in my eyes over the Indian Ocean ever since I read the New Oxford World History title on it. It's amazing how little we talk about that area in the United States, considering how much of the world's action took place there. Then again, maybe it's not.) It's a short book--less than 300 pages--but it's packed with history, much of which I had no idea about. One little factoid: Zheng He's fifteenth century voyages were primarily about projecting power to Southeast Asia. This was almost as much of a face-palm moment for me as when I read in The Origins of the Second World War In Asia and the Pacific that the original issue for Japan was access to China. Oh, that makes sense once you clear out some of the propaganda, doesn't it?

People, this is why I try to read so much.

Deb in the City

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

Israel should exist (Day 44)

I want to clarify something I wrote last year. I am sickened by what Israel has become, specifically the institutionalized discrimination against their own Arab citizens. However, that doesn't translate to the eradication of Israel.

Let me be clear: I do not approve of Israel's decimation of Gaza. As of this writing, approximately 30,000 Gaza residents have been killed, thousands more have been maimed, and hundreds of thousands are starving. I am outraged by the performative visits to the region by our Secretary of State. So harried, so principled. If the administration wanted a cease-fire, they have a number of other levers they could pull that don't amount to a PR tour. 

But...no, per David Remnick, *and* I cannot forget what begat this recent round of violence. 1200 Israelis butchered, 200 taken hostage, on October 7. And I mean butchered, as well as sexually assaulted and tortured before being murdered. I don't need anyone to tell me how much Palestinians have suffered in Gaza and the West Bank; before I heard the details of what had happened, my first reaction was, well, what did people expect? But once I did hear the details, my reaction was horror. 

It says something that people defended what Hamas did. Somehow, I think when Frantz Fanon wrote about the necessity of violence, he wasn't referring to the need to rip fetuses from their mothers' wombs so someone could have the pleasure of killing them both. At least, that wasn't my read of Wretched of the Earth.

I wasn't moved to write about this until one of the few internet communities I remain a part of praised the young man who burnt himself to death in front of the Israeli embassy to protest the carnage in Gaza. His words about actions during a genocide have been praised; he could be eloquent when he wanted to be. Less has been made of his statements on Reddit. Here's a taste. My favorite is the part where he says there are no Israeli civilians, even at a music festival. The implication: they deserved to die as they did. 

It seems to me this is not a sentiment we should be celebrating, and I am terrified as I take in the number of people that are doing just that.

I appreciate that "and" doesn't balance the scales significantly more than "but". There is scale, and the Israeli government went way too far less than two weeks into their operation,  and we are well past that. Was the goal to get the hostages? Get the leadership of Hamas? Make Israeli citizens feel safe? They have failed miserably at all of those, and yet they continue. It is clear this is as an exercise in Netanyahu's vanity, and he needs to be stopped. (And please spare me any speculation about how diplomatic recognition by the Saudis is going to stabilize relations in the region. That's the kind of wishful desperation I recall from Egyptians begging the army to stabilize the country during the Arab Spring. That went as badly as any other deal made in Hell is going to.)

And to everyone who clapped for South Africa when they brought charges of genocide against Israel in the world court, why? That was a more transparently false exercise than the shuttle diplomacy of the Biden administration. Genocide is difficult to prove because of the factor of intent, and South Africa knows that. If they had actually wanted something done, they should have gone with war crimes, because that's much easier. But they weren't going for progress; they, like the Americans, were going for PR (and given the state of the ANC, who can blame them?).

I have my own ideas about The Answer, but right now we need a cease-fire, and we need to repair what is left of Gaza as the hostages are returned. (If you want the leadership of Hamas, please go to Qatar.) We do need the two state solution--needed it decades ago--but it's ridiculous to hold starving people hostage to that prospect in the middle of a disaster. 

Israel needs to be better, and they have much to answer for--but they haven't done anything that precludes them from "being". Say "genocide" or "war crimes", and I will say Germany, Cambodia, Syria, the United States, France, the UK, Russia, China..who won't I say? Bring up Israel's age, and I'll ask you to look up the ages of many countries formed during the decolonization movement--and that will include a number of countries who haven't covered themselves in glory, as well as those with--wait for it--territorial disputes. And tell me about the immorality of displacing people; I will agree, but I will also point you to the other countries that have done the same, including other countries in the region who kicked out their Jewish residents after the formation of Israel. 

Before anyone calls on Israel to cease to be, they need to ask themselves if they're willing to apply those same standards to everyone else. I suspect not. 

The real question: what do we need to do to make things better? I'd rather spend my time on that.

Deb in the City

Monday, March 4, 2024

In Praise of...Steely Dan's Two Against Nature (Day 43)

These have been a rough couple of days--weeks, months, years--and sometimes it gets to my household. Maybe a lot of times it gets to us. I've been following the news since, well, Carter's inauguration, and I have journalists in my family, but I am slowly coming to the realization that people who weren't raised this way have a lower tolerance than I do. So when my husband said he couldn't listen to the news this weekend, we bounced around in the car to some K-pop. (What can I say? The man has good taste.)

While out running an errand this morning, I let him pick, and he pulled out Two Against Nature by Steely Dan. This was, for a long time, Our Band. We made a conscious decision, in that way young people do, that we were going to become fans, and we did. First it was a Best Of/Greatest Hits compilation, but then we started branching out into some of their older and maybe a little more disturbing stuff. Listening to this album reminded me why I had thought they were so brilliant even though they proudly owned their status as slightly erudite muzak. They didn't wink at irony, they wallowed in it, and sometimes they could laugh about it, but in their songs, at least, that laughter was pretty bitter.

Two Against Nature was one of their last albums, and they remained bitter and disturbing even when they softened with remorse and nostalgia. But really what I was thinking as I listened to this album from almost a quarter century ago was, "They called it." But maybe better to say, "They saw it."

There is, obviously, a song about proto-Manic Pixie Dream Girl. When the parents of the person who coined that phrase were in middle school, Steely Dan was writing about their obsession with the girl who was screwed up and all the more attractive for it. She shows up here in "Almost Gothic", but she's also makes appearances in "Black Cow" and, to some extent, "Peg".

The song that really jolted me from this album is "Janie Runaway". Yeah, I got it even when it came out, but it sounds much more sinister now, maybe because "Janie" would be even younger than my children are now. Kudos to Becker and Fagen for taking the perspective of a monster and making it clear that's exactly what they're doing. But the human trafficking angle is extra special disturbing today.

What hit me hardest, though, was "Jack of Speed". That was another I understood almost twenty years ago, but addiction hadn't touched my life as thoroughly at that point. Yeah, the band sang about That Life before (see: "Kid Charlemagne"), but by the time we get to "Jack", all of the thrill of the high is gone, and they're singing to the one person who might still be saved.

But the real reason I return to this album is for "What a Shame About Me". That's another one that has a clear meaning you can get the first time you listen to it, but it's one thing to hear it as a young person, another thing in middle age. It's a more romantic, plaintive version of Terry Malloy's plea in On The Waterfront, but at the core the protagonist is still declaring that he could have been something. To which I can only wonder, why is it too late, you whiny man-child?

This album is self-conscious (and if you're going to use "isotope" as a lyric, get it right), but so are all of their albums. They knew what they were doing, which included letting their asses hang out, and they went with it. They took the laughs when they deserved them, and they weren't asses about the praise.

I wonder, did they see what was coming, or did they see what was in front of them when the rest of us didn't want to? Or, as I like to say a lot these days, why can't it be both?

Deb in the City

Sunday, March 3, 2024

This only took thirty years (Day 42)

My husband and I celebrated our first Chanukah together in 1993, when we were expecting baby number one. My mother-in-law gave us what I thought was a beautiful chanukiah, and it should be a shock to everyone that we have kept it this long. The shabbat candlestick holders came along about six years later, when our second baby was very young. 

I moved around a lot when I was a kid, and at some point a lot of possessions in storage were lost. I'm not sentimental about possessions because that wouldn't have served me, and overall, I think it's for the best. But I do take a special bit of joy in a handful of items I own, and these are among them.

The only thing that marred said joy: the wax stuck to all three. And while I did try to flick wax off on occasion, it clearly wasn't enough, and it made me groan after a while.

Today, for some reason, it seemed like the perfect time to try out a tip I had read on social media--the only thing I gleaned from my recent misadventure--and put them on a low oven with some brown paper underneath. 200 degrees for 30 minutes, twice--and voila! Almost all of the wax is now gone. 
 
Trust me, this is significantly less than there used to be

I can prevent this in the first place by rubbing oil on the metal before I melt the candles, but I've always resisted that because that tip came to me and not my husband. But since there are two candlesticks, maybe he can take care of one and I can do the other. That's fair, especially for something I enjoy.

Deb in the City 

Saturday, March 2, 2024

My part of town this weekend (Day 41)

I can't decide whether it's a sign of getting older or density reaching a breaking point that this weekend finds me lingering in my part of town as opposed to looking for trouble and adventure downtown (or uptown); probably more than a little of both. I usually feel a rush of nostalgia and curiosity on the weekends and want to walk through places I've spent time in since, well, the 1970s, but between the dysfunction of public transportation and the lack of options for me when I want something to eat or drink (oat milk hot chocolates are wearying after a while, and the going rate for smoothies is about $9.50), I decided it wasn't worth the trip. There is somewhere I can park for a very affordable rate, but it's busy enough on Saturday that it feels like more trouble than it's worth.

So, close to home it was, and truth be told, everyone in Boston should be so lucky. My husband and I walked through one of our world-renowned green spaces on our way to grab (ahem) some hot chocolate. We lingered over our beverages as we discussed current events. (For some reason, this took a while. I don't know; there might be a couple of things going on right now.) We would have gone to the very small and relatively new cafe, but they were packed; if they need our business, they don't need it on a Saturday morning. We ended up instead in the flagship store of a local ice cream chain that also offers coffee. 

We took a walk to kill some time, then bought our son some donuts (no, I can't eat them, but that's okay). When it was finally noon, we stopped into the farmer's market to get some greens (and strawberries!) before making a quick stop into the library and then, finally, the local bookstore I've been wanting to visit for a month. And today I did something I almost never do: I bought new books.

I've only been waiting to read these for two years

I even got to visit the bodega on the way home to grab some plantains (IMPORTANT), so in all, I don't have much to complain about. And yet...this *is* Boston, which means that the parts of the area that were all the rage for about a decade are empty in spots. The little chocolate shop and the very good Dominican place have been gone for a year; the Lebanese place that made delicious falafel left last month. The 7-Eleven that was in that part of town for decades shuttered over three years ago and nothing has looked close to replacing it. There are other storefronts, and many of them are busy, but having seen what's been happening to the other parts of Boston for fifteen years, it makes me queasy. 

However, the quieter part of the main street that used to be residential with a few reluctant stores is slowly filling in. There's the bodega, the bookstore, the little allergy-friendly cafe that sells records (and plants), two cafes across the street that have very good vegan and gluten-free options, and stalwart, funky salons and thrift shop. There is still some iffyness, particularly the retail area of the newly built apartment buildings, but overall, it looks like that's the bright spot. Maybe next Saturday will find me spending my morning there.

Deb in the City

Friday, March 1, 2024

Internet ads are the root of modern evil (Day 40)

I switched browsers several years ago to Mozilla Firefox, and it's made the internet a better place. It's also made it a fundamentally different place, such that when I'm looking at someone else's device, I start hyperventilating a little just looking at ALL of those ads. It's a turn off, and I can't wait to be done with whatever it is I need to do on said machine. Ew.

So you can imagine how distressed I was when I went to use my favorite YouTube trainer and had to sit through five seconds of ads. Yeah, I know, that doesn't sound like much, but it was more time than I wanted to give them of my life (and, oh yeah, no, I'm not going to need an airbnb rental any time soon, so screw). Then, since I do occasionally indulge in sudoku games, I practically pushed back from the screen when I saw half of the screen covered in various ads. How do people live this way?

For some reason, it looks like the latest update of Firefox disabled my ad-blocker. I reinstalled that thing very quickly. Good news: it took with YouTube; bad news, not Sudoku. Okay, maybe that's not bad news, since I do have better things to do with my time. But still. 

It's bad enough you go to an imperfect news site like CNN and you see all kinds of "sponsored content": to my knowledge, there's no way of blocking those (which is just one reason I don't go there unless I'm looking for something very specific). But no, while trying to get the news, I should not have to scooch through inane advertisements. Yeah, yeah, yeah--that was the bargain our parents and grandparents made for their "free" programming. Forgive me, but that's just one reason that programs in other parts of the world were better, particularly the UK.

I'll either get around this, or I won't, which means I'll use the internet for even less than I do now. For me, that is probably not the worst thing in the world, but I know that isn't an option for everyone else. That's terrible. I think we need a new internet.

Deb in the City