I cite

Local (if not global)

The smartest person in Geneva, New York is Dom Vedora. Last spring, I ran into him at the hospital. I was getting shots for my trip to South America. He was driving an older woman from his neighborhood to see her physician. He asked me why I had left the party. I tried to be brief but ended up with a faux-phallutin' speech on a party I didn't believe in, candidates who were corrupt, my outrage of having had them in my home for fund-raisers and then having them turn around and betray the party, this sort of thing. He looked at me and said, "yeah, sure, but you can't let the bad guys win without a fight."

I may have posted something about Dom before. No matter. What he says matters.

And, best of all, sometimes he is more than right.

Tonight, the Democrats in Geneva beat the incumbent mayor in the primary. Paul is vice-chair of the party. This is a big deal. The party didn't endorse the incumbent. So, he decided to run against the endorsed candidate (a great guy with the fantastic slogan, "Stu for Mayor"--this is fantastic because his last name is Einstein, which leads to lots of jokes, such as "it doesn't take a rocket science to be mayor of Geneva"). Anyway, this split the local party. Some left the party and sided with the mayor. Others stuck with the party. But, a primary in a small town in September is a hard race. Not very many people go to the polls.

On Sunday, when I should have been running my half marathon but couldn't because of my hip injury and was pretty doggone depressed and hateful, I walked around town with Paul handing out leaflets to the registered Democrats in a couple of wards. Door-to-door sucks. It's time consuming and kinda boring. It's also too informative: you see how people live and so have to remove your blinders. I have limited social skills, so I prefer not having to talk to people. I just want to leave something at their doors and leave. Sunday wasn't too bad, though, since most people were watching sports on television. But it still takes time. I counted it as exercise since we walked four or five miles. But it wasn't the thirteen miles I had planned. Damn hip.

Anyway, the good thing about door to door is the wonderful self-righteousness it enables. I felt very smug. But, we were still worried. The incumbent could win. A couple of folks on city council had left the party when it refused to endorse the mayor. And, it wasn't clear whether their wards would go with them or go with the party.

But we won. By over a hundred votes out of 800 (cast in the Democratic party). The door to door stuff made a difference. People were so psyched. A local bar was filled with happy Democratic party people. Something actually changed. It mattered. Something happened. We beat the incumbent and the old boy network.

Dom was right. I shouldn't have left the party.

But I still don't believe in it. Which might be to my loss.

Living without Violence

My housekeeper's son was stabbed recently. It was about 2 in the morning. A guy came by their house, wanting a cigarette. Rose's son opened the door--Rose told me she had told him never to open the door after 11:00 at night. She heard a lot of noise and came downstairs and saw blood everywhere. She called 9/11. Her son had been stabbed in the chest; a lung was punctured. The police arrived, and a helicopter to airlift him to Strong Memorial Hospital in Rochester. He had to wait, though, because the police wanted him to ID the guy who stabbed him. The stabber was 16 years old. Rose tells me that he will likely be tried as an adult.

Since Rose is pretty angry at her son over the whole thing, although she tells me that she is 'holding her pieces' (a cool expression that it took me several hearings to get; it seems likely derived from "hold your piece" which I actually thought was "hold your peace" but now that I think about it why would you hold your peace?), I gathered that her son is going to be fine, at least with respect to the stabbing.

It's easy to overlook the privilege in living without violence. I've been fortunate in this regard.

But, there have been instances of violence in my family. My great uncle, Davage, was a professional gambler and drinker who lived in Destin, Florida. His daughter was Tommy Jean. Tommy Jean was married  to Doug, who beat her something first. One night, and this was back in the sixties, I think, the local sheriff called Davage late one night. He told him that Tommy Jean was beat real bad. Hunks of her scalp were on the floor and walls. Doug had swung her around by the hair as part of the beating. The sheriff told Davage that he could go in first and deal with Doug. But he made Davage promise not to kill him. The sheriff and his men would come in after about 15 minutes, break things up, and arrest Doug, before sending him on to the hospital to get looked at.

There was a time when some white, middle class feminists emphasized the hidden violence against women and children in white, middle class homes. This was important work: the patriarchal family appeared less loving, consensual, and natural than mid-century US propaganda wanted it to. It was also the case, though, that some strands of progressive thought, and now I am thinking of some feminism emphases at the end of the 19th and beginning of the early 20th century blurred their critique of and critical work against domestic violence with a racialized approach to poverty: poor and non-white (a racialization of immigrants including the Irish and southern slavs) seemed somehow naturally and inevitably violent, in need of cleansing, purifying, and retraining. And, better not to have too many, by the way.

There is an anger management center across the street and down the block from my house.

More from the edges/center of neoliberal capital

My local bank (only 3 branches in nearby towns) called to say that there had been a security breach with account numbers and pins so they were cancelling my atm card and issuing me a new one. They were also issuing me a debit card since it appears that I use my atm card as a debit card (I didn't know there was a difference). I wasn't thrilled about this since I leave for Wales tomorrow. But they did it anyway. They were helpful, though, and had my new debit card sent to them at the beginning of the week so that I could travel with it. Everything seemed fine.

The card is from Visa. Apparently, the local bank contracts with them for the debit service.

Today, I forgot my pin number. I tried to get gas a couple of times. I was putting in the wrong number. Then I went to the atm. the number still didn't work. I came home and dug through the garbage. Not the trash. The garbage. The temperature was in the 80s so the food substances had started to rot and smell, turning into a gelatinous goo with a horrible stench. Coffee grounds enabled the goo easily to stick to my hands and arms. I dug around and found a letter from the better. I called and got caught in various computer phone trees. One told me to dial an extension or the first three letters of a last name. I didn't know either of these for the person who had been helping me at the bank. When I got someone at Visa, he said to call my local bank. All he could do was stop my card if someone had stolen it.

I went back to garbage and dug around until I found my pin number. When I went to the atm to try it, it said that I had tried to use the card too many times. I think, though, that the pin number I used at that point was correct.  I assume that the card is frozen. I tried my old card and the machine ate it. It gave me a nasty note saying I wasn't authorized to use it.

So, now I leave for Wales with no way to get cash. I don't know the pins for my credit cards because of the interest rates on cash advances. Visa can't help me with the card and tells me to contact the local branch. The local branch is closed till Monday. And it has shopped out the card service to Visa, likely asssuming that this would be the sort of thing Visa would handle. The very measures that are supposed to secure the account prevent me from using my own money. And, now I am traveling with no way to get cash. And, the thing is, I never asked for a new card. The old one was working just fine.

The fraying edges of the neoliberal economy in the US

The lack of services for the urban poor is well-documented. I have in mind not only the drastic reduction of social services over the past twenty years (and Clinton was the worst here), but also the problems that arise when the market decides what to provide and where to provide it. In the late 80s, there were few decent grocery stores above 125th Street on the West Side of NYC. The one I recall (a Dagostino's on Amsterdam) was smaller, dirtier, and with higher prices than downtown. The bodegas had smaller selections of worse quality fresh produce. Capital didn't see much opportunity for profit up there at the time--a likely result of the failure of the city, state, and federal government to maintain that part of the city.

Similar problems face very small cities in the rural areas of the edge of the rust belt. Likely for similar reasons: a population that doesn't have much money or much opportunity to spend what money they have for provisioning somewhere else. During junior high, I lived on the Mississippi coast. I went to the movies regularly. Geneva, New York is the only place I've ever lived where the movie projectors break repeatedly. One theater (we called it the rat house) closed this fall. The other one was remodeled, but still the projector broke. Tonight. At Pirates of the Caribbean 3. My daughter cried for a while. She cheered up as the high school kids began their cat calls.

But it isn't just the movie theater. Our local Wegmans grocery store (in the top 10 of the best places to work in the US, or at least the chain is, is declining rapidly. The salad in the bags seems rotten more often than it used to be. Some of the fruit seems like it was frozen and then thawed, badly. The managers can't seem to get the prepared chickens right: some nights, they are out of them by 6:00; other nights, the chickens aren't ready yet (that happened tonight; they told me twice that they would be ready in 10 minutes; when I asked the second time, they said that someone had forgotten to turn on the oven; this sort of thing happens a lot); weirdly, you would think that having a sense of how many to have ready and at what time would be pretty easy to measure, especially given how many ways that our purchases are tracked and measured.

Real existing capitalism: it rhetorically denies it dependence on state services and interventions; its mechanisms fail to deliver what they promise. And, because it's capitalism, nobody cares, nobody is responsible. It all just gets reconfigured as specific, individuated, lifestyle choices (attentive readers will guess that I've been reading Bauman today).

A fox

Tonight, as we drove back into town, we saw a fox run across one of the major streets. Actually, the fox was running across from the police station toward a couple of bars. We were shocked. A fox in Geneva? Paul saw a dead rat the size of a baby in the street this morning, about half a block from the hospital. He was campaigning for the Dems. There are quite a few abandoned buildings. As IT writes (infinite thØught)

Already animals are seeping back into colonised spaces

Of course, she's discussing London in a dystopic future. I'm describing the town where I live in a dystopic present. Nature is retaking the city. Some plants--a kind of tree-vine combination--are breaking through walls in my basement. Squirrels chewed through the wires of my garage door opener--I gave up on that. I won last year's battle against the bats. But they might return.

We were so taken by the fox that we went to a local bar to tell the tale. The owner is 85, runs the bar on an honor system, and open and clothes we he pleases. He also has a great trick that uses liquor and fire and creates a rocket that shoots a little stick with a message into his ceiling. At any rate, Cosi, the owner, was not so impressed with the fox. He said lots of animals live in the abandoned buildings and in fact roam all over the place--racoons, woodchucks, coyotes (?! in upstate NY?). Others joined in--bears. They migrate through town from the Adirondacks to Pennsylvania. Small black ones. Ok, not exactly through town, but near by, a mile or two outside of town. Animals are seeping back into colonized spaces. If people don't bother with the town, they will.

Taxing heterosexual privilege

The following letter from my friends Betty Bayer and Susan Henking was recently published in The Finger Lake Times. One of the points that I particularly like involves the fact that gay money is good enough for taxes--but yet some people want to deny same sex couples the option of marrying (seemingly one of the benefits of living in civil society, under government, supported by tax dollars). But, there are other, really terrific and entertaining points--particularly the one about taxing heterosexual privilege. I expect that law and economics types like Richard Posner would love it!

When do gays (and lesbians, if only by implication) make the front page in Geneva? When the public can show that they have a license over who can marry whom? (“You said it” poll results, June 1) But, how rights-denying are Finger Lakes Times readers or Americans? Certainly gays have never been asked to forgo paying taxes to improve life in our communities. So, how does this willingness to comment and even vote on who gets to marry and who doesn’t, work?

We’re wondering if we all might vote on marriage – say, a constitutional amendment for heterosexuals asking them to bolster the institution of marriage in ways that ensure once they enter into this sacred union, they never leave it. Maybe only have nonheterosexuals vote because, being outside the institution, surely we bring objectivity to the decree. Or, how about heterosexuals pay extra taxes for this “privilege,” if that’s what it is.

For if marriage is a privilege and not a fundamental citizen right, then let’s amend the constitution and our tax structures to reflect that it’s a privilege restricted to heterosexuals who have indeed made lifelong commitments and are given to reproduction. Then adjust their taxes accordingly, an extra tax for an extra privilege.

In the next week, the Senate will consider a constitutional amendment brought by George Bush to permanently deny gay and lesbian Americans the right to marriage (and the 1,000-plus rights attached to marriage through various U.S. laws).

Why should FLT readers care? If not because of the many gay and lesbian people who pay taxes, go to our schools or colleges, visit as tourists, run businesses, or are otherwise connected with Geneva, then because Genevans claim to care about human rights.

Would that instead of asking “Do you think gay couples should be allowed to marry in New York?” the Finger Lakes Times had asked, instead, what Geneva – and Geneva citizens – are doing to ensure we are an inclusive community for lesbians, gay men, transgendered people and others, whether in couples or single.

Would that Americans – and Genevans — were debating not merely extending or preventing access to conservative institutions like marriage and the military to gay and lesbian people but, instead, how to ensure that our community recognizes the fundamental rights of all humans.

Please let your senators and representatives – and our own City Council — know that you support human rights for gays and lesbians.

Addressing the Deficit...of Flags

Two different veterans groups voted unanimously to put a 25 foot pole to be topped by a 4 by 8 American flag in front of the statute of a woman in the park across the street from my house. The park is basically a commons, taked care of by those of us who live around it who plant the flowers, rake it, etc. The area has been designated an 'historic district' so any changes have to be approved by the historical society. Today the historical society met with verterans and those of us who live around the park. (I may have the term wrong here--it might have been another board that makes decisions about public spaces.)

What was particularly distressing was the presumption that we would want a flag, that the spot needed a flag, and that putting a flag there was a service to the committee. This presumption was so strong, that the burden became explaining why we didn't want a flag.

Today, in the US, not wanting a flag means you hate America. And, hating America means that you have no right to speak, even if you are a home owner. Your (well, actually my) position is sneered at and dismissed immediately. I got some laughs with my point that I hadn't noticed a flag deficit given the number of houses flying them and the fact that they are already all over town. But, this view was hurting the cause--and it later became clear why, the historical society did not want the papers to day that they had voted against the flag.

With the line of acceptability clearly drawn, opponents then had to speak as patriots: I served in the military or my father is a veteran or I love memorial day, but....This helped, but not enough.

The other line was the tourism line: people discussed taking pictures of the statue. Anything that would hurt the angle was aesthetically displeasing. This aesthetic angle seemed to carry the most weight (as well as the concern about having the flag lit up all night, which it would have to be, since no one living on the park was going to take responsibility for putting it up or down since none of us wanted it to begin with--it's not like we've been feeling unflagged).

So, in a microcosm, the pincer movement characteristic of the contemporary US: on the one side, neoconservativism (patriotism, militarism, conformity--'we're at war, after all'); on the other side, postfordist economics that push rust belt towns to try to think of themselves as locations for tourists and thus adopt the gaze of the potential tourist toward the places we live.

The outcome: the flag goes elsewhere in the park. Another step toward reducing the deficit...in flags.

Anti-Halloween Street Troll

  Anti-Halloween Street Troll 
  Originally uploaded by Jodi3425.

Street trolls tried to disrupt the Halloween parade. They were against communism, evolution, and Halloween. In opposing them, the community was constituted in alliance with (through the articulation of) communism, evolution, and Halloween. That's pretty good for a small town.

Geo-free Jack-o-lantern

  Geo-free Jack-o-lantern 
  Originally uploaded by Jodi3425.

Small cities under post-fordism

One could say, and I sometimes do, that Geneva, New York has just said no to global capital. This 'small city' of about 15,000 has nearly 30 bars, several rent to own stores, a half dozen or so second hand shops. It doesn't much partake in the consumer economy, at least not until one gets into secondary and tertiary economies. A number of store fronts are vacant. A few have been filled in by various sorts of financial services, some targeting the poor, others the better off. The diners in town open early and close at 2:00 in the afternoon. Some small businesses--say, the watch repair shop--seem to keep their own hours, not to want to be hemmed in by someone else's schedule. A typical response to someone in a hurry is to say. "what, are you in a hurry?" as if this were clearly pointless. At any rate, we don't have many of the global capital stores--K Mart closed but there is still a Wal-Mart at the edge of town, near the car dealers and the fast food chains. We don't have a Starbucks or a Barnes and Noble. No Home Depot or Old Navy, either.

What do small cities at the beginning of the rust belt do to survive? Like elsewhere, there was optimisim about a high tech corridor during the dot-com bubble. Currently, there is optimism around bio-tech. The city (meaning city government) seems to think that 'tourism' will be the way to go. I think this is interesting troubling.