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