tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81130523990734439962024-03-18T16:13:36.950-04:00Deb in the CityThe Musings and Observations of Author, Homeschooling Mom, and Citizen of the World Deborah Nam-KraneDeborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.comBlogger413125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-64377868325531357022024-03-18T16:12:00.002-04:002024-03-18T16:12:42.162-04:00Compost (Day 57)<p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>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).</p><p>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.</p><p> </p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNm6z0XQ8O0ucmqSJzcuvPIxBytN0TXIZk6NYJdOV1Qp2GhT9JjXgmH4ujaZxVnNpTQHM1HhoARmlvtYEDYwmpnjzOOUC6nC0f68O-QjYVKd7-983yl68OtbQuQtgHbq02hyMSginfp_i-3yr_zeWjzjTs4-5ppROxxEjbCrHjev7yj2Mj20udbF3yXCE/s4080/20240318_112608.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3060" data-original-width="4080" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNm6z0XQ8O0ucmqSJzcuvPIxBytN0TXIZk6NYJdOV1Qp2GhT9JjXgmH4ujaZxVnNpTQHM1HhoARmlvtYEDYwmpnjzOOUC6nC0f68O-QjYVKd7-983yl68OtbQuQtgHbq02hyMSginfp_i-3yr_zeWjzjTs4-5ppROxxEjbCrHjev7yj2Mj20udbF3yXCE/w400-h300/20240318_112608.heic" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, I know, this would be more impressive with a Before version, but I'm still proud<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </p><p>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.</p><p>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.<br /><br />Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-47176710626814026352024-03-17T13:15:00.004-04:002024-03-17T13:15:59.818-04:00Stepping out of my comfort zone (Day 56)<p>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.</p><p>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 <br /></p><p>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.</p><p>Did I mention I still need another set of seed information?</p><p>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.</p><p>At least it's a break from math...?</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-59053615196203209892024-03-16T19:46:00.000-04:002024-03-16T19:46:23.829-04:00Gardeners Gathering 2024 (Day 55)<p>The last frost in Boston is approximately May 1, but the gardening season gets started in March with the <a href="https://thetrustees.org/program/gardeners-gathering/" target="_blank">Gardeners Gathering</a>. 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).</p><p>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.)</p><p>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 <a href="https://ace-ej.org/" target="_blank">Alternatives for Community and Environment</a>. 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.</p><p>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.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-73237779468766650632024-03-15T13:49:00.001-04:002024-03-15T13:49:15.028-04:00TikTok is so bad, only Steve Mnuchin can save it (Day 54)<p>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; <a href="https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/" target="_blank">worth a read</a>. </p><p>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. </p><p>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.)</p><p>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 <a href="https://www.npr.org/2024/03/14/1238520324/steve-mnuchin-buy-tiktok-ban-house-bill" target="_blank">said to be trying to buy TikTok</a>? 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. </p><p>Good thing I wasn't going to use TikTok anyway.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-52786327233860336942024-03-14T09:51:00.001-04:002024-03-14T09:51:33.623-04:00Six down, ten to go (Day 53)<p>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.</p><p>147,248 words. Let's see what we end up landing on.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-55908848713776888472024-03-13T11:56:00.001-04:002024-03-13T11:56:11.174-04:00History versus the news (Day 52)<p>I don't read as much of <a href="https://austinkleon.com/" target="_blank">Austin Kleon</a> 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.</p><p>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 <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/575663/revolutionary-spring-by-christopher-clark/" target="_blank">Revolutionary Spring</a>.</p><p>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). </p><p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>All a very long wind up to say that the <a href="https://studsterkel.wfmt.com/" target="_blank">Studs Terkel Radio Archive</a> 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 <a href="https://studsterkel.wfmt.com/programs/neil-postman-discusses-book-school-book-people-who-want-know-what-all-hollering-about" target="_blank">Neil Postman--in 1974</a>--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.</p><p>Beats skimming for today's news.<br /><br />Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-81368371356510547702024-03-12T08:52:00.004-04:002024-03-12T08:52:47.954-04:00The dead of night, thanks to allergies (Day 51)<p>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.</p><p>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. </p><p>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. </p><p>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?<br /></p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-3326790960461705832024-03-11T11:57:00.002-04:002024-03-11T11:57:56.250-04:00Allergies (Day 50)<p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>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. </p><p>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. </p><p>Thank god for Indian food?</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-62176735265414580422024-03-10T20:40:00.001-04:002024-03-10T20:40:51.782-04:00It'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. <div><br></div><div>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. )</div><div><br></div><div>Obviously I am destined to love this book.</div><div><br></div><div>Deb in the City</div>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-63561089406725905892024-03-09T09:20:00.001-05:002024-03-09T09:20:11.897-05:00Don'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. <div><br></div><div>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?</div><div><br></div><div>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?</div><div><br></div><div>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. </div><div><br></div><div>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.</div><div><br></div><div>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. </div><div><br></div><div>Bonus: Nazi-free.</div><div><br></div><div>Deb in the City</div>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-17743189195393913572024-03-08T10:34:00.001-05:002024-03-08T10:34:21.900-05:00Who's zooming who? (Day 47)<p>Who knew that my obsessive interest in performance would morph into something of an obsession with propaganda versus history? </p><p>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). </p><p>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. </p><p>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.)</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p><br />Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-15005123321008211522024-03-07T09:25:00.000-05:002024-03-07T09:25:01.716-05:00Benefits are a lifeline for many (Day 46)<p>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. </p><p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>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. </p><p>It's one more symptom of a broken system, and one more reason we need systemic change.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p><p><br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-91499130671550393762024-03-06T08:56:00.003-05:002024-03-06T08:57:07.945-05:00What I've Read (recently) (Day 45)<p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>The two books I finished this week have been on my list for two years: <u>Blood Scion</u> by Deborah Falaye, and <u>The Ocean of Churn</u> by Sanjeev Sanyal. </p><p><u>Blood Scion</u> 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.</p><p>I wanted to pick up <u>Ocean of Churn</u> 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 <u>The Origins of the Second World War In Asia and the Pacific</u> 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?<br /></p><p>People, this is why I try to read so much.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-35941393494391732892024-03-05T10:53:00.003-05:002024-03-06T08:56:57.919-05:00Israel should exist (Day 44)I want to clarify <a href="http://writtenbydeb.blogspot.com/2023/03/the-road-to-hell.html?m=0">something I wrote last year</a>. 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.<div><br></div><div>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. </div><div><br></div><div>But...no, <a href="https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/segments/david-remnick-reports-grief-rage-middle-east-on-the-media">per David Remnick</a>, *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. </div><div><br></div><div>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.</div><div><br></div><div>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. <a href="https://theintercept.com/2024/02/28/aaron-bushnell-reddit-fire-protest-israel-palestine/">Here's a taste</a>. 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. </div><div><br></div><div>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.</div><div><br></div><div>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.)</div><div><br></div><div>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?).</div><div><br></div><div>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. </div><div><br></div><div>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. </div><div><br></div><div>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. </div><div><br></div><div>The real question: what do we need to do to make things better? I'd rather spend my time on that.</div><div><br></div><div>Deb in the City</div>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-67263385197333322832024-03-04T11:42:00.001-05:002024-03-04T11:42:10.129-05:00In Praise of...Steely Dan's Two Against Nature (Day 43)<p>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.)</p><p>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.</p><p>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."</p><p>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".</p><p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>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?</p><p>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.<br /><br />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?<br /></p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-58036752708870488182024-03-03T19:45:00.013-05:002024-03-03T19:51:43.361-05:00This 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. <div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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. </div><div> </div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmX6LQR-0C5AZUDhplmeWn2yiYj9Guq5ZoPHUMN-caDKrKs2AB3ro5zbwsx5kIiD8hzv8U4IupKvVGBUSM1k0FbE9oCVzPnYj_k2MNNADi-KtnISuUs7DLSxKDhhBvV527MQpPcGP9xXquXU0jZBBP3NRyYKznyKLleJoeMBgb3JYHMRsuQ-vF4BgUl4/s4080/20240303_191755.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3060" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmX6LQR-0C5AZUDhplmeWn2yiYj9Guq5ZoPHUMN-caDKrKs2AB3ro5zbwsx5kIiD8hzv8U4IupKvVGBUSM1k0FbE9oCVzPnYj_k2MNNADi-KtnISuUs7DLSxKDhhBvV527MQpPcGP9xXquXU0jZBBP3NRyYKznyKLleJoeMBgb3JYHMRsuQ-vF4BgUl4/w300-h400/20240303_191755.heic" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trust me, this is significantly less than there used to be<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>Deb in the City </div>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-27703001586442876602024-03-02T17:39:00.001-05:002024-03-02T17:39:16.917-05:00My part of town this weekend (Day 41)<p>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.</p><p>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. </p><p>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.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhihQ18FCAc0wwKbcy0MBPaisrxgZwfZbHXIZQQVtRd4di_mn54rBMqKJvcHzR-uSL5734_9YNlsJM8NpnZ1Wc1aljhjjXXOMAX86gssOZs0xxJUhhyphenhyphentFVvNPwyC2V0q0Rs0YAqlsiJQqGZRNM0ZUJ3Ot4j6w_FQwasfFenQhuzOb6JjY7USxoubgtfSCM/s4080/20240302_165411.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3060" data-original-width="4080" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhihQ18FCAc0wwKbcy0MBPaisrxgZwfZbHXIZQQVtRd4di_mn54rBMqKJvcHzR-uSL5734_9YNlsJM8NpnZ1Wc1aljhjjXXOMAX86gssOZs0xxJUhhyphenhyphentFVvNPwyC2V0q0Rs0YAqlsiJQqGZRNM0ZUJ3Ot4j6w_FQwasfFenQhuzOb6JjY7USxoubgtfSCM/w400-h300/20240302_165411.heic" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've only been waiting to read these for two years<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>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. </p><p>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.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-39251413145320920922024-03-01T15:39:00.003-05:002024-03-01T15:39:31.259-05:00Internet ads are the root of modern evil (Day 40)<p>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.</p><p>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?</p><p>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. </p><p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-20535659803451810882024-02-29T18:58:00.001-05:002024-02-29T18:58:07.830-05:00You're right, you can't afford to live in Boston (Day 39)<p>Or most of Massachusetts.</p><p>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. </p><p>I thought of this child when I saw <a href="https://livingwage.mit.edu/states/25?link_id=0&can_id=f7dd965e3670069ee7a041fe6219003c&source=email-cost-of-living-in-mass-by-6hour-over-past-year&email_referrer=email_2224617&email_subject=cost-of-living-in-mass-_-by-6hour-over-past-year" target="_blank">this chart</a> 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.</p><p>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."</p><p>This is not unrelated to <a href="https://www.cbpp.org/sites/default/files/atoms/files/Massachusetts.pdf" target="_blank">wealth inequality in Massachusetts</a>. 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). </p><p>So let's <a href="https://350mass.betterfutureproject.org/raise_up_mass" target="_blank">raise the minimum wage</a>, and let's support unions. It's not just to keep my children here, but other people's, too.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-21061953339663979462024-02-28T17:41:00.002-05:002024-02-28T17:41:19.639-05:00The MBTA remains a joke (Day 38)<p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-55675136360430939702024-02-27T16:52:00.001-05:002024-02-27T16:52:25.786-05:00Nice to be back (Day 37)<p>After a two-week hiatus, I returned to the "north" of the city, walking between Charlestown and the North End. <br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBvT0fJFzBCGeaYhdBxhoRsRMyyoyaNKyLT6hPrMKHb0Qh6Zhpkp5Q1rhXq0M5qWppm91a9s0dTvQCYqLQAXas0C8z_47VCQJuEaNbWVNVOxeCha-EdbeE9JmFh01h0wcxFmY8vrWt1THXlTklCjFl_EaRx-uoX5TLZZc3eASjv83ZeOWl14VqFXa3lM/s4080/20240227_084035.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3060" data-original-width="4080" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBvT0fJFzBCGeaYhdBxhoRsRMyyoyaNKyLT6hPrMKHb0Qh6Zhpkp5Q1rhXq0M5qWppm91a9s0dTvQCYqLQAXas0C8z_47VCQJuEaNbWVNVOxeCha-EdbeE9JmFh01h0wcxFmY8vrWt1THXlTklCjFl_EaRx-uoX5TLZZc3eASjv83ZeOWl14VqFXa3lM/w400-h300/20240227_084035.heic" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view a little before 9 AM is spectacular, so much so that even my finger doesn't ruin it<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>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. </p><p>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".</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-71695849692438499842024-02-26T19:04:00.004-05:002024-02-26T19:04:52.981-05:00Spare me from ever having to listen to Fresh Air again (Day 36)<p>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.</p><p>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?<br /></p><p>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?<br /></p><p>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.</p><p>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--<a href="https://freshairarchive.org/segments/novelist-and-survivor-lasting-effects-child-abuse-0" target="_blank">this interview with Dorothy Allison</a> 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.)<br /><br />Thank god for books.<br /><br />Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-83184669094804933342024-02-25T16:08:00.002-05:002024-02-25T16:08:51.380-05:00Meanwhile, in South Korea (Day 35)<p>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.</p><p>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).</p><p>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. </p><p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>This is where I started scratching my head, until I came upon <a href="https://koreajoongangdaily.joins.com/news/2024-02-25/national/politics/Presidential-office-defends-medical-school-quota-hike/1988621" target="_blank">this</a>: </p><p></p><blockquote>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. </blockquote><p></p><p>Oh. Right. Yes. And in retrospect, not sure why I expected more from the Yoon administration.</p><p>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.</p><p>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?</p><p>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. <br /><br />Just as, perhaps, South Koreans might be able to get more doctors, they just shouldn't expect that they'll actually be well-trained.</p><p>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.</p><p>Deb in the City<br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-47620787104208655822024-02-24T21:09:00.001-05:002024-02-24T21:09:33.464-05:00Repeats 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.<div><br></div><div>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*.</div><div><br></div><div>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.</div><div><br></div><div>Excuse me while I watch some original programming about South Korean divorce attorney who challenges the system while, ultimately, leaving it unchanged. (Irony intended.)</div><div><br></div><div>Deb in the City</div>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8113052399073443996.post-74497472714362647352024-02-23T13:17:00.001-05:002024-02-23T13:17:59.160-05:00Where has the music gone? (Day 33)<p>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.</p><p>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.</p><p>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.<br /></p><p>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?</p><p>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."</p><p>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 <a href="https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/" target="_blank">Cory Doctorow</a>.) 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.</p><p>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.</p><p>Deb in the City <br /></p>Deborah Nam-Kranehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09970563873460124223noreply@blogger.com0