David Weir: 2006-12-17

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Understanding what's at stake

Most of us live a long way from Biloxi, Mississippi. If we have ever been there, it was probably to take a vacation on the lovely local Gulf beaches or (in recent years) to lose money at the waterfront casinos.

One year and four months ago, the parts of this idyllic community located nearest the water were obliterated as if by a nuclear bomb. Houses exploded. Massive barges anchored offshore, masquerading as casinos, were picked up like bathtub toys and hurled ashore, flattening everything in their path. Human beings clinging to their roofs watched horrified as relatives were washed out to sea.

For most of us, Hurricane Katrina was pretty much a television show. We were shocked by all the people trapped by the storm, especially in the largest city in the region, New Orleans. In fact, since it was mainly a TV show, we were all spending most of our time watching the horrors in that city.

But the hurricane just struck a glancing blow to New Orleans. The damage that ensued when the levies broke is a national scandal; many warnings that they wouldn't hold in such a storm were ignored.

But the full force of Katrina was not felt in New Orleans, but on the Mississippi coast. The storm came ashore at Waveland, near Biloxi. Waveland no longer exists. The twisting buzz saw of the monster hurricane shattered everything it encountered.

Months later, when I first visited the scene, pieces of clothes, houses, animals, cars, boats, officers, and toys were splayed lifeless in the bent trees of East Biloxi. The smell of death and black mold hung heavily in the air. The formerly beautiful beaches were littered with trash, including thousands of dead chickens and shards of toxic wastes.

It was the storm of a millennium.

Since most of us experienced Katrina only as a TV show, we might be forgiven for thinking the show is over. But it is not over. The rebuilding effort will take many years. The local people feel abandoned by the rest of the country, our attention long since being directed elsewhere.

I don't think we can afford, as a nation, to forget.

Please scan the following material to get a sense of how much work remains to be done. Then please give to one of the five grassroots groups listed below. Thank you!

Amy Liu Report

Envisioning a Better Mississippi: Hurricane Katrina and Mississippi One Year Later

A Report of the Mississippi State Conference of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People

Executive Summary

When future generations reflect on Hurricane Katrina, as an event, much attention will be paid to the uneven capacity of government at all levels to manage the unfolding disaster. As important as that reflection is, true judgment and assessment of the period will focus on how the rebuilding process was managed, and the opportunity used to build a better Gulf region.

The opportunity to build a new future for Mississippi is fleeting. Devastation often brings the type of flexibility in hardened views of what government can and should do; and the lessening of social and economic cleavages necessary to realize a new day.

That flexibility and openness does not last long and every opportunity must be taken to push forward the type of policies that reduce physical, social and economic vulnerability. The Mississippi national Association for the Advancement of Colored People with the assistance of the Initiative for Regional and Community Transformation at Rutgers University undertook this project to document key challenges and opportunities facing the state of Mississippi in the next eighteen months.

We did not seek to cover all challenges and fronts, rather we asked creative thinkers and practitioners to suggest broad gauged policies needed to effectuate sustainable change and development.

The key findings flowing from this report are as follows:

* The focus and attention by federal and state policy toward rebuilding has been slow, disjointed and often not reflective of key voices in Mississippi.
* Rebuilding policy, especially those policies focused on compensating individual homeowners have the potential to shift resources meant for the most vulnerable communities to communities (while severely affected by the storm) do not fit the profile and guidelines for serving low-income communities as stated in HUD guidelines.
* The state and federal government responses have not sufficiently addressed the volume of rental housing units lost and damaged by the storm and the need to replace them.
* The state of Mississippi is facing a tremendous insurance crisis that must be addressed in order for large-scale long-term rebuilding to take place.
* While planning for rebuilding is in place, the actual capacity for physical development is limited due to the high demand for skilled labor, building material and project financing.
* Predatory lending practices that plagued vulnerable Mississippi communities before the hurricane are still in force and now retain the potential to drain away resources from newly compensated low-to-moderate income households.
* The faith community that was the first responders and most effective in delivering services are still called to perform similar duties without much assistance, compensation and training for what they do.
* Limited effort and policies are being invested in developing policies for those displaced to other regions by the storms.
* Given the limited base of capital in the private, public and regional philanthropic sectors, civil society in Mississippi must develop and nurture a philanthropic base that will help sustain rebuilding, development and transformation.

The People Who Need Our Help

1. Back Bay Mission is an interfaith effort working on recovery, homelessness, and affordable housing advocacy. This group, which has a long history (since 1922) of social justice work in and around Biloxi, helps the most vulnerable people that few others can seem to reach. There is a convenient online form for donations, or you can contact the organization at:

Back Bay Mission
1012 Division Street
Biloxi, MS 39530
Tel: (228) 432-0301
Fax: (228)374-2922
Email: backbay@datasync.com

2. North Gulfport Community Land Trust
Rose Johnson
4803 Indiana Ave.
Gulfport, MS 39501
Tel: 228-863-3677
You can read more about this remarkable group and how it is trying to rebuild a once vibrant African American community in the wake of Hurrricane Katrina:

http://www.greenrelief.net/article.php?id=346

Mississippi Center for Justice
Katrina Recovery Office
974 Division Street
Biloxi, MS 39530-2960
Tel: (228) 435-7284
Fax: (228) 435-7285

The Center maintains a Katrina Victims Legal Relief Fund, that attends to both immediate and long term legal needs, including:

* A grandmother now caring for her grandchildren and needing legal guardianship
* Children who have special needs getting access to essential services in their new schools
* Insurance being denied because companies deem damages caused by flood not hurricane
* Families losing their homes because they can't access their bank accounts
* Veterans not getting their medical and other benefits
* Elderly homeowners being scammed by predatory lenders
* Families needing to file for bankruptcy protection
* Newly disabled individuals who need help getting SSI benefits
* Immigrant workers displaced from jobs at poultry plants and casino hotels

You can watch the Center's informational video at this link: MCJ Video

5. Coastal Women for Change
336 Rodenburg Ave
Biloxi, MS 39531
Tel: (228)-297-4849

I've posted about this group several times, and their eloquent pleas for help for the poor in Biloxi. Please see: New Appeal From A Forgotten Coast and Plea From Biloxi for more details. The group makes it easy to donate online via PayPal.

-30-

Faces of Biloxi

Friday, December 22, 2006

Do Katrina Victims Deserve Our Help?

Since I launched my fundraising appeal for the Katrina survivors earlier this week, I have heard from lots of people, most of whom are sending some money to one of the five groups listed at the bottom of this post. But I also seem to have inadvertently triggered a debate about whether the storm victims deserve any more support at all. Today, I reprint once again a letter from “Brian,” who argues that Katrina survivors are not worthy of further support.

His letter angered those working on the scene, two of whom ("Reilly" and "J")sent me their comments for publication:

Brian writes:
David:
The US government has done more per capita for victims of Katrina than any other disaster in history. They do not need any more help. It's time to move on to other victims who need and are more deserving of our help. Our funds are not limitless and we cannot make every person whole who has suffered a loss. It is the responsibility of each individual to plan for disaster by buying insurance and setting aside funds for unforseen needs. By bailing out people who fail to provide for themselves you are only creating more future victums.

***

Reilly writes:
Please urge those who think that LA and MS have gotten rich on Katrina to read the first report from Amy Liu that is accessible by this link.

Amy Liu Report

It spells out how the overwhelming majority of the federal aid went straight back into the federal agency budgets, and a very small percentage has gone directly into the local communities, and an even smaller percentage has actually gotten into the pockets of people whose homes were slabbed, businesses were bankrupted, and lives were turned upside down, AND KEPT THAT WAY FOR ALMOST A YEAR AND A HALF NOW. Please invite any skeptics to take some masking tape outside and measure out 8 feet by 30 feet rectangle. That is what close to 90 thousand people in MS are living in, 3 to a FEMA trailer. And inside this space, get them to place a kitchen, toilet, bed, refrigerator, heating/ac unit, and a table. Then have a FEMA person come by every few days to demand that they show how they are getting out of the trailer and into the rental market, when well over half the apartments in the area have been destroyed.

***

"J" writes:
To your less than sympathetic reader, I would ask that he walk a mile in someone else’s shoes before judging what people deserve and don't deserve.

How can poor people get educated in a school system where the quality of learning has been diluted over so many generations that even many teachers don't realize how poorly their students are performing? Then, try living every day in a neighborhood where it is unsafe to leave the house; not only because the neighbors struggling to survive sometimes sell drugs, but also because the police are mean as junkyard dogs and don't like the looks of you.

Then, grow up and get a job at Wal-Mart, work long hours and make minimum wage. Don't get sick, because they don't pay you enough to afford their health insurance. If you do get sick, make sure you understand that by going to the free clinic, you could be jeopardizing your job. Between the bus ride and the long wait to see a doctor, it will take all day. Hopefully they'll give you a prescription you can afford to fill, because you'll have to go back to work the next day. There are plenty of people just like you waiting to take your job.

Let's assume that you are a normal human being who aspires to have at least a single child. You'll have to find a way to pay for childcare, that would be a minimum of $50 per week, even if it's subsidized, making your yearly bill around $2600.

This comes straight out of your $10,000 annual paycheck. You won't have a bank account because you will never have enough money for a minimum balance, so you'll have to find other options for financial services. Those services will undoubtedly be predatory lending options like check cashing services and pawn shops where you will be charged 800% for the privilege of being able to pay for new shoes for your child. (Why did you ever have children to begin with, don't you know you're too poor?)

If you're really lucky, you'll find a partner who has a minimum wage job at the dollar store. That will bring your yearly income up to somewhere between $15,000-$20,000 per year. Hopefully they won't do anything like get a credit card and charge up a storm of stuff in your name, or worse yet, get sick themselves. It sure is a good thing that your Aunt owns a successful neighborhood beauty shop and grosses a $20,000 a year, because sometimes you can borrow a couple of dollars from her, when you run out of money for milk. Anyway you slice it, I sure hope you like rice and beans.

If you're really lucky, you have a little piece of land that's been in the family since your great great great grandfather managed to get it after reconstruction. But the rickety little shotgun shack that you used to call home was in low lying land (because that's where all the poor people live) and the Hurricane came and swept it away, leaving it, and everything else you own garishly on display for all to see, hanging wet and moldy, 25 feet up in a tree.

Of course, you stayed during the storm, because you didn't have a car or the means to leave. So you've been feeling really shaky for over a year now. You know it's not good to feel this way, because you've seen three of your extended family members die in the past year, and you're pretty sure it's the stress that got them. There's no where to really go, so you just have to suck it up in your 30" FEMA travel trailer with the kid and maybe some cousins who have nowhere else to go.

So now, it's been over a year since the storm. You've managed to get some used stuff from the relief organizations. Good thing there's not really that much stuff to get, because you can only fit so much in a FEMA trailer, and the kids’ toys take up most of that space.

And I'm sure by now you'll really understand when someone tells you that you don't need any more help. You understand that funds are not limitless, while you watch our government waste money like it's no big deal. (And you know firsthand about how FEMA really screwed up this relief effort, giving aid where it wasn't needed, or wanted, and neglecting large populations where it was).

I know you'll understand that you really should stop feeding your family so that you can set aside some money in hopes that some day you might actually be able to afford another place to live, and the insurance rates that will save you in the event of the next storm (assuming the insurance companies start writing policies down here again).

Try living this life andd see how you feel. But for the kindness of strangers, there would be no hope alive here at all.

***

Please visit the links below to five grassroots organizations that deserve our help this holiday period:

1. Back Bay Mission is an interfaith effort working on recovery, homelessness, and affordable housing advocacy. This group, which has a long history (since 1922) of social justice work in and around Biloxi, helps the most vulnerable people that few others can seem to reach. There is a convenient online form for donations, or you can contact the organization at:

Back Bay Mission
1012 Division Street
Biloxi, MS 39530
Tel: (228) 432-0301
Fax: (228)374-2922
Email: backbay@datasync.com

2. North Gulfport Community Land Trust
Rose Johnson
4803 Indiana Ave.
Gulfport, MS 39501
Tel: 228-863-3677
You can read more about this remarkable group and how it is trying to rebuild a once vibrant African American community in the wake of Hurrricane Katrina:

http://www.greenrelief.net/article.php?id=346

3. Mississippi Center for Justice
Katrina Recovery Office
974 Division Street
Biloxi, MS 39530-2960
Tel: (228) 435-7284
Fax: (228) 435-7285

The Center maintains a Katrina Victims Legal Relief Fund, that attends to both immediate and long term legal needs, including:

* A grandmother now caring for her grandchildren and needing legal guardianship
* Children who have special needs getting access to essential services in their new schools
* Insurance being denied because companies deem damages caused by flood not hurricane
* Families losing their homes because they can't access their bank accounts
* Veterans not getting their medical and other benefits
* Elderly homeowners being scammed by predatory lenders
* Families needing to file for bankruptcy protection
* Newly disabled individuals who need help getting SSI benefits
* Immigrant workers displaced from jobs at poultry plants and casino hotels

4. Moore Community House (childcare and family services)
P.O. Box 204
Biloxi, MS 39533-0204
Tel: (228) 669-4827
Email: INFO@MCHBILOXI.ORG

This local institution, which was damaged in Katrina, provides childcare and family services to people in Biloxi. Its website mentions that one donation of $2 arrived with a note, "I just wanted to help." The group answered: "We're so grateful for every gift -- together we'll rebuild East Biloxi."

5. Coastal Women for Change
336 Rodenburg Ave
Biloxi, MS 39531
Tel: (228)-297-4849

I've posted about this group several times, and their eloquent pleas for help for the poor in Biloxi. Please see: New Appeal From A Forgotten Coast and Plea From Biloxi for more details. The group makes it easy to donate online via PayPal.

-30-

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Help Bring Back Biloxi...

...and the entire Gulf Coast.

There are still many Americans, unfortunately, who believe that enough has already been done for those who survived the worst storm ever to strike this country in modern times.

One such person wrote me today: "The US government has done more per capita for victims of Katrina than any other disaster in history. They do not need any more help. It's time to move on to other victims who need and are more deserving of our help. Our funds are not limitless and we cannot make every person whole who has suffered a loss. It is the responsibility of each individual to plan for disaster by buying insurance and setting aside funds for unforseen needs. By bailing out people who fail to provide for themselves you are only creating more future victums."

Here are the facts to counter such allegations:

* An incompetent Bush Administration threw away money through its mismanaged Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA). It has been well-documented by the GAO how little of this government waste alleviated the suffering of Katrina survivors.

* No other disaster has come even within an order of magnitude of Katrina. Even if the money had been spent wisely, the Bush Administration has not provided the political leadership necessary to educate Americans (like the one who wrote me) about the scale of this disaster.

* Many of the victims did have insurance, but as has been established in several court cases, the insurance industry has done everything it could to try and wriggle out of paying up on its policies. This is a complex matter but the gist of it is that insurers argue Katrina was a flood, and therefore not their responsibility.

*There is a special government-funded flood insurance program, which few people can afford, and which provides very limited coverage to homeowners. The insurance industry has tried to fob Katrina off on that woefully underfunded government program.

*Finally, I have to point out that this person blames the victims -- which is the easy way out. He needs to go down and see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears. He should look the storm survivors in the eye and tell him his opinion. They can set him straight, faster than a Mississippi rattler strikes!

Please remember the following five grassroots groups this holiday period. They desperately need help, especially because the attitude of the person quoted above represents an all-too-prevalent attitude here in America in December 2006. This is a country where too many of us find an excuse to turn our back on people who are only a few degress of separation from us. These are in fact our sisters and brothers.

So please, don't turn your back, don't close your eyes and ears, and especially, never close your heart.

1. Back Bay Mission is an interfaith effort working on recovery, homelessness, and affordable housing advocacy. This group, which has a long history (since 1922) of social justice work in and around Biloxi, helps the most vulnerable people that few others can seem to reach. There is a convenient online form for donations, or you can contact the organization at:

Back Bay Mission
1012 Division Street
Biloxi, MS 39530
Tel: (228) 432-0301
Fax: (228)374-2922
Email: backbay@datasync.com

2. North Gulfport Community Land Trust
Rose Johnson
4803 Indiana Ave.
Gulfport, MS 39501
Tel: 228-863-3677
You can read more about this remarkable group and how it is trying to rebuild a once vibrant African American community in the wake of Hurrricane Katrina:

http://www.greenrelief.net/article.php?id=346

3. Mississippi Center for Justice
Katrina Recovery Office
974 Division Street
Biloxi, MS 39530-2960
Tel: (228) 435-7284
Fax: (228) 435-7285

The Center maintains a Katrina Victims Legal Relief Fund, that attends to both immediate and long term legal needs, including:

* A grandmother now caring for her grandchildren and needing legal guardianship
* Children who have special needs getting access to essential services in their new schools
* Insurance being denied because companies deem damages caused by flood not hurricane
* Families losing their homes because they can't access their bank accounts
* Veterans not getting their medical and other benefits
* Elderly homeowners being scammed by predatory lenders
* Families needing to file for bankruptcy protection
* Newly disabled individuals who need help getting SSI benefits
* Immigrant workers displaced from jobs at poultry plants and casino hotels

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Ten Ways to Help Katrina Victims this Holiday ( Diez maneras de ayudar a las víctimas de Katrina este día de fiesta)

As many visitors to this blog know, I've stayed as involved and informed as I can from 2400 miles away about the ongoing Katrina relief and recovery efforts down on the Gulf Coast, centered around Biloxi, Mississippi.

This holiday period, there are some terrific organizations that need your help, if you are so inclined. I'll list five local and five national non-profit groups that would put any donation you might be able to make to good use:

Local Groups

1. Back Bay Mission is an interfaith effort working on recovery, homelessness, and affordable housing advocacy. This group, which has a long history (since 1922) of social justice work in and around Biloxi, helps the most vulnerable people that few others can seem to reach. There is a convenient online form for donations, or you can contact the organization at:

Back Bay Mission
1012 Division Street
Biloxi, MS 39530
Tel: (228) 432-0301
Fax: (228)374-2922
Email: backbay@datasync.com

3. Mississippi Center for Justice
Katrina Recovery Office
974 Division Street
Biloxi, MS 39530-2960
Tel: (228) 435-7284
Fax: (228) 435-7285

The Center maintains a Katrina Victims Legal Relief Fund, that attends to both immediate and long term legal needs, including:

A grandmother now caring for her grandchildren and needing legal guardianship
Children who have special needs getting access to essential services in their new schools
Insurance being denied because companies deem damages caused by flood not hurricane
Families losing their homes because they can't access their bank accounts
Veterans not getting their medical and other benefits
Elderly homeowners being scammed by predatory lenders
Families needing to file for bankruptcy protection
Newly disabled individuals who need help getting SSI benefits
Immigrant workers displaced from jobs at poultry plants and casino hotels

National Groups:

1.Oxfam America
2.Unitarian Universalist Service Committee
3.Americares Katrina Relief
4.21st Century Foundation
5.Ms Foundation Katrina Women's Response Fund

These five larger organizations are actively funding local grassroots groups, including some of those listed above. If anyone needs help tracking them down, please contact me.

Thank you!

-30-

Diez maneras de ayudar a las víctimas de Katrina este día de fiesta

Tantos visitantes a este blog saben, he permanecido tan implicado e informado como yo poder a partir de 2400 millas lejos sobre los esfuerzos en curso de la relevación y de la recuperación de Katrina abajo en la costa del golfo, centrada alrededor de Biloxi, Mississippi.

Este período del día de fiesta, hay algunas organizaciones fabulosas que necesitan tu ayuda, si estás tan inclinado. Enumeraré a cinco grupos no lucrativos locales y cinco nacionales que pondrían cualquier donación que puede ser que puedas hacer al buen uso:

Grupos locales

1. La misión trasera de la bahía es un esfuerzo interfaith que trabaja en la recuperación, la falta de vivienda, y la defensa comprable de la cubierta. Este grupo, en el cual tiene una historia larga (desde 1922) del trabajo social de la justicia y alrededor de Biloxi, ayuda a la gente más vulnerable que pocos otros pueden parecerse alcanzar. Hay una forma en línea conveniente para las donaciones, o puedes entrar en contacto con la organización en:

Misión trasera de la bahía
Calle 1012 de la división
Biloxi, MS 39530
Teléfono: (228) 432-0301
Fax: (228) 374-2922
Email: backbay@datasync.com

2. Confianza de tierra del norte de la comunidad de Gulfport
Rose Johnson
Avenida de 4803 Indiana.
Gulfport, MS 39501
Teléfono: 228-863-3677
Puedes leer más sobre este grupo notable y cómo está intentando a la reconstrucción a comunidad americana africana una vez vibrante como consecuencia de Hurrricane Katrina:

http://www.greenrelief.net/article.php?id=346

3. Centro de Mississippi para la justicia
Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif,Oficina de la recuperación de Katrina
Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif,Calle de 974 divisiones
Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif,Biloxi, MS 39530-2960
Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif,Teléfono: (228) 435-7284
Fax: (228) 435-7285

Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif,El centro mantiene un fondo legal de la relevación de las víctimas de Katrina, de que atiende a las necesidades legales inmediatas y a largo plazo, incluyendo:

* Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif,Una abuela ahora que cuida para sus nietos y que necesita tutela legal
* Niños que tienen necesidades especiales el conseguir del acceso a los servicios esenciales en sus escuelas nuevas
* Seguro que es negado porque las compañías juzgan daños causados por huracán de la inundación no
* Familias que pierden sus hogares porque no pueden tener acceso a sus cuentas bancarias
* Veteranos que no consiguen sus ventajas médicas y otras
* Los dueños de una casa mayores que eran scammed por los prestamistas rapaces
* Familias que necesitan archivar para la protección de la bancarrota
* Los individuos nuevamente inhabilitados que necesitan ayuda que consigue SSI benefician
* Trabajadores inmigrantes desplazados de trabajos en las plantas de las aves de corral y los hoteles del casino

4. Casa de la comunidad de Moore (servicios del childcare y de la familia)
Caja 204 del P.O.
Biloxi, MS 39533-0204
Teléfono: (228) 669-4827
Email: INFO@MCHBILOXI.ORG

Esta institución local, que fue dañada en Katrina, proporciona servicios del childcare y de la familia a la gente en Biloxi. Su Web site me menciona que una donación de $2 llegó con una nota, “acaba de desear ayudar.” El grupo contestó: “Somos tan agradecidos para cada regalo -- juntos reconstruiremos Biloxi del este.”

5. Mujeres costeras para el cambio
Avenida de 336 Rodenburg
Biloxi, MS 39531
Teléfono: (228) - 297-4849

He fijado sobre este grupo varias veces, y sus súplicas elocuentes para la ayuda para los pobres en Biloxi. Ver por favor: Nueva súplica de la costa olvidada A y súplica de Biloxi para más detalles. El grupo hace fácil donar en línea vía PayPal.

***

Grupos nacionales:

1.Oxfam América
comité del servicio de 2.Unitarian Universalist
relevación de 3.Americares Katrina
4.21o Fundación del siglo
fondo de la respuesta de las mujeres de Katrina de la fundación 5.Ms

Estas cinco organizaciones más grandes están financiando activamente grupos locales de los pueblos, incluyendo algunos de ésos enumerados arriba. Si cualquier persona necesita la ayuda que las sigue abajo, entrarme en contacto con por favor.

¡Gracias!

fijado por los comentarios de David Weir @ 1:19 P.M. 1 se liga a este poste
Martes 19 de diciembre de 2006

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Ice Age Cometh

Do you remember that character named Dunbar from Joseph Heller's Catch 22? He was the guy who always walked backwards. For a while when I was in college in Ann Arbor in the late '60s, I occasionally used his technique to cut into the registration office, rather than wait in a long line; or to sneak into a movie theatre.

The idea is that whoever is checking sees only the back of you as you enter and that that is so counter-intuitive that (s)he simply cannot process this information quickly enough amidst all the other comings and goings to prevent you from having your way in the matter.

It was nothing more than a youthful phase; I got tired of the game after it worked too well, and my conscience kicked in. I've never been much of a cheater; cheap thrills leave me pretty cold, alas. But these days, I often feel as if I may be walking backwards through life, and I'm not exactly sure why.

There may not have been smoke on the water this morning but there sure as hell was ice on my car. The fat little control man from PG&E was standing out front, waiting for each of us pathetic working residents to emerge sleepily from our flats, our laptops tethered to our shoulders, as we march off to another day's work in the digital salt mines.

Actually, all he cared about was that we moved our cars, so his army in waiting could get back to work destroying our street. But I fooled him good. I emerged, yes, but only to fire up my metal lunchbox, defrost blasting, before retreating to the warmth of my breakfast table (coffee, cinnamon toast, the Chronicle*), while my car shed its icy coating.

(*) Congratulations, Phil, on the birth of your son this past weekend.

So, the ice melted off my Saturn in the bright winter sun, and the day proceeded to proceed as all days tend to, and so on and so forth. By night, on my way north to what Herb Caen used to call Baghdad by the Bay (he'd roll over in his grave if he had to contemplate what that actually means in the George W. Bush era), I received an unexpected phone call from my 8-year old princess that tonight was the school's annual holiday show, and that meant, of course, that her 12-year-old brother would be performing as one of the relatively few boys in the school choir.

If only in my Dad's memory (he loved choir singing), I knew had to rearrange my evening plans and attend this performance. I'd been planning to go to my final night as part of a group meeting on Bernal Hill, and then to a holiday party for one of my favorite startups in the East Bay, but instead, I parked the car, untethered myself from my laptop, quick-checked the mail, said hi to my 25-year-old son, who was also getting ready to head out for his evening, and set out in the general direction of my little kids' school.

It's a mile or so from here, and the night chill actually felt good. After all, as my children and lovers can attest, I am a walking "human furnace," with a metabolism that burns hot night and day. Peter and I walked to the Valencia Corridor, where he went his way and I went mine. It was a nice show, with songs in Hebrew, Yiddish, Latin, English, and African-Americanism.

Afterward, I walked back alone through the Mission. I saw lots of photo ops this night, but I wasn't in the mood to shoot them. I'm not sure anyone much likes my Sidewalk Images blog anyway, so maybe I should shelve my questionable photographic impulses and stick to what in Silicon Valley we call our "core competency," which, if not writing, is at least a rambling sort of story-telling, right?

The walk home, another mile, now felt colder, though I still wasn't bothered, really. I thought of how different it is to walk alone at night than with a woman by my side. A woman would be shivering, which is an excellent excuse to put my arm around her. Her face, her hands, her feet, and her butt would all be very cold, covered or uncovered. These extremities all present their own opportunities for a helpful hand, so to speak, on the walk or later on, back home.

But I digress. Tonight, regrettably, no woman was walking by my side. I was, as always these nights, quite alone. I saw many magical shapes and lights in these dark streets, however. As I approached the landing strip in front of my place, I saw that Peter had been following a parallel course, arriving home seconds before I did. Like father, like son.

Since I'd stopped by El Matate, my absolute all-time favorite neighborhood taqueria, and bought two items -- a super chicken burrito (with guacamole and sour cream) and a half pint of fresh guacamole -- we had some goodies to share.

Did I mention that I crave guacamole these days?

Suffice it to say we ate like kings, sharing these delicacies. Then, true to his stage in life, Peter went out clubbing, and I settled in to writing this blog.

***

Tomorrow, I intend to list some non-profit, grassroots groups in Mississippi that could really use donations of any size this holiday season to help with their hurricane recovery work. I hope that everyone who reads my words will consider making some sort of donation, however modest.

The first month of this year I had the privilege of surveying people in East Biloxi as part of an effort to distribute some aid to them. One question was about their annual household income. Most of them make between $10,000 and $20,000 a year.

So you can easily see how a donation of $25 or $50 could make a real difference to people living at that standard of living, especially now that most of them do not even have a real home to call their own, but only a temporary shelter like a FEMA trailer or a crowded room in the home of a relative.

I hope that anybody who has found any measure of comfort from my writing will give this season to the groups I identify tomorrow. I will be doing so myself.

Happy Hanukkah. Merry Christmas. May there be peace on earth, finally.

It is about time.

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Nightwalking (El caminar de la noche)

Th-h-e-e-y-y'r-r-e back!

I knew it was way too good to be true the other morning when I awoke to a naked street, i.e., stripped of all signs of the occupying army (read: PG&E.)

All the heavy equipment, the tow-away warnings, the orange cones, piles of cement and other junk? Gone. No, that's not quite right. There was one lonely orange cone left on the curb, sitting cockeyed near the garage loft next door.

A sign of things to come (back), as it were.

The street and its sidewalks were quite the worse for wear, mind you. Big pockets had been ripped hither and thon, then hastily paved over with that gooey black gunk. They hadn't evened out the unevenesses.

Sloppy job, I thought as I slogged my way to the large gray lunchbox I hurtle down the highway to work in, day after day. I do somewhat resemble a sandwich, I realize, layers of clothes, fat, muscle, bone, and random tissue with a blood-political-anger level way over the legal limit for one my age.

Not to worry. When this sandwich of a man (albeit half-eaten by then, given the daily wars) returned home that night, it was to a neighborhood retaken by the occupiers. They had reclaimed every inch of the block with spanking new tow-away signs, bright orange cones, and monster trucks that resemble heavily armed HUMvees.

As I walked about the Mission last night, first I saw the strange ghost hanging near a street light (top), and then, near my intended destination, this weird excavation done by the Department of Public Works. Inside the cozy club, meeting my friends Dan and Destiny, I soon forgot about my irritation at PG&E and how it's never possible to sleep in past 7 a.m. anymore.

Back through the night I later returned, back past the hole in Folsom Street and back past the ghost of 20th Street, still swinging overhead. 'Round the corner and into the home stretch, this by-now crumpled sandwich of a fellow rumbled, only to come up short at some messaging that the occupiers had spray-painted smack in front of my place.

So, what the hell is "Mill/Fill." I'm afraid we'll find out soon enough.

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El caminar de la noche

¡Parte posteriora del th-h-e-e-y-y'r-r-e!

Sabía que era manera demasiado buena ser verdad la otra mañana en que me desperté a una calle desnuda, es decir, pelada de todas las muestras del ejército que ocupaba (leído: PG&E.)

¿Todo el equipo pesado, remolca-lejos las advertencias, los conos anaranjados, las pilas del cemento y la otra chatarra? Ido. No, de que absolutamente correcto. Había un cono anaranjado solo a la izquierda en el encintado, sentando cercano cockeyed la puerta siguiente del desván del garage.

Una muestra de cosas de venir (trasero), como ella era.

La calle y sus aceras eran absolutamente las peores para el desgaste, importan de ti. Los bolsillos grandes habían sido rasgados aquí y thon, después pavimentados precipitado encima con ese gunk negro gooey. No habían igualado hacia fuera los unevenesses.

Trabajo descuidado, pensé como slogged mi manera al lunchbox gris grande que hurtle abajo de la carretera para trabajar adentro, día tras día. Me asemejo algo a un emparedado, yo realizo, las capas de ropas, grasa, músculo, hueso, y tejido fino al azar con una manera del nivel de la sangre-político-cólera sobre el límite legal para uno mi edad.

Para no preocuparse. Cuando este emparedado de un hombre (no obstante mitad-comido para entonces, dado las guerras diarias) volvió a casa esa noche, estaba a una vecindad vuelta a tomar por los inquilinos. Habían reclamado cada pulgada del bloque con el azote nuevo remolcan-lejos muestras, conos anaranjados brillantes, y los carros del monstruo que se asemejan a HUMvees pesadamente armado.

Mientras que caminé sobre la misión ayer por la noche, primero vi el fantasma extraño el colgar cerca de una luz de calle (tapa), y entonces, cerca de mi destinación prevista, esta excavación extraña hecha por el departamento de obras públicas. Dentro del club acogedor, resolviendo mis amigos Dan y destino, pronto me olvidé sobre mi irritación en PG&E y cómo nunca es posible dormir adentro más allá de 7 mañanas más.

Detrás con la noche volví, muevo hacia atrás más adelante más allá del agujero en la calle y la parte posteriora de Folsom más allá del fantasma de la vigésima calle, alambique que hacía pivotar por encima. 'Alrededor de la esquina y en el estiramiento casero, éste por-ahora el emparedado arrugado de un compañero retumbó, sólo para subir brevemente en una cierta mensajería que los inquilinos aerosol-habían pintado tortazo delante de mi lugar.

Así pues, cuál el infierno es “molino/el terraplén.” Estoy asustado que descubriremos pronto bastante.

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Lunes 18 de diciembre de 2006

Monday, December 18, 2006

Path to nowhere ( Trayectoria a en ninguna parte)

It's been a tough month for Oregon in the news. First, the Kim family, lost in a snowstorm. His family was rescued but James Kim died in a desperate attempt to reach a town on the map that wasn't even there.

Lately, three mountain climbers, lost on Mt. Hood. One dead, found in the fetal position in a snow cave; the other two almost certainly also dead, swept off the peak by 100 mph winds to their deaths far below.

Almost lost in the shuffle: Three members of a catamaran crew whose wrecked boat was spotted about 50 feet from the shore near the mid-Oregon coast. The Coast Guard searched but couldn't find them.

All three stories are reminders that Nature is not kindly but unforgivingly cruel. But there's something else: All of the dead were more or less pursuing leisure time passions -- vacationing, climbing, sailing.

Meanwhile, millions of children starve to death or die of diarrhea all over the world. All of these deaths are preventable. But in order to accomplish that goal, as a New York Times Magazine story argued yesterday, all of us in the so-called "developed world" need to become much more cognizant of how inter-related we all are -- all people, all over the world.

I've long found the word charity repugnant. It is replete with the sickening nuance of wealthy do-gooders handing out alms to the grateful poor.

A better word for these acts would be responsibility. Does anyone among us actually believe his or her relative comfort has been accomplished through hard work and merit? Do you honestly believe you have a warm house, a car, enough clothes, and plenty of food to eat because of a fine system where no one has been harmed in the course of attaining this position? (Did you never play King of the Hill as a child?)

A long time ago, a friend and brilliant writer, Frances Moore Lappe, convinced me that the label "underdeveloped," as in the "underdeveloped world," was a verb, not a noun.

That is because when you examine the process closely, you can see how all of our wealth and privilege in the rich industrial countries is coming at an awful cost -- we have been systematically underdeveloping the resource-rich but economically-poor Third World in order to improve our own lives.

The evidence is irrefutable. Tell me a critical metal or mineral -- tin, iron, zinc, oil (!) -- and I'll sketch out for you a story of brutality and exploitative extraction that will make your hair stand on ends.

It is those horrible truths, combined with our covert political activities -- assassinations, coups, and the bribery of corrupt leaders, not to mention unjustified wars -- that has preserved the comparative advantages of western countries for too long now.

We may have thought no one was watching this wretched rape of our common earth, but we didn't realize that the planet itself was watching. Now, as hurricanes and global warming and other ecological responses become ever more inevitable, the awful collective price of our greed becomes all too obvious.

These storms will spare neither rich nor poor.

So more and more Western intellectuals now will argue that it is time for us to explore leaving this planet, and to colonize the Moon, Mars, and worlds beyond.

So, I have a question: Under this scenario, who will be left behind?

You need not go far to visit the Third World, BTW. Just drive down to Skid Row in LA, or the Tenderloin in San Francisco. Just take a trip down to the Gulf Coast towns in ruins. Drive around East Biloxi. Meet some local people.

Their struggle is our struggle. The sooner we realize that, the better chance we will all have of survival. Those who count and guard their millions, their hundreds of thousands, even their mere thousands, need to do a new and better kind of math.

Whatever each of us "has," it is far more than others among us can ever dream of having. Is that just? Was that written in stone by some Messiah or another? If so, he is hardly worthy of respect.

I know this is a religious season for believers.

For me, however, it is the season of shame.

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Trayectoria a en ninguna parte

Ha sido un mes resistente para Oregon en las noticias. Primero, la familia de Kim, perdida en una tempestad de nieve. Rescataron a su familia solamente James Kim muerto en una tentativa desesperada de alcanzar una ciudad en el mapa que no era uniforme allí.

Últimamente, tres trepadores de la montaña, perdidos en la capilla del Mt. Los muertos uno, encontraron en la posición fetal en una cueva de la nieve; los otros dos casi ciertamente también muertos, destruido el pico por 100 vientos del mph a sus muertes lejos abajo.

Casi perdido en la barajadura: Mancharon a tres miembros de un equipo del catamarán que arruinó barco cerca de 50 pies de la orilla cerca de la costa de mediados de-Oregon. El guardacostas los buscó pero no podría encontrar.

Las tres historias son recordatorios que la naturaleza es no amablemente sino unforgivingly cruel. Pero hay algo más: Todos los muertos eran más o menos pasiones del tiempo libre el perseguir -- el vacationing, el subir, navegando.

Mientras tanto, millones de niños mueren de hambre a la muerte o al dado de la diarrea por todo el mundo. Todas estas muertes son preventable. Pero para lograr que la meta, como una Nueva York mide el tiempo de la historia del compartimiento discutida ayer, todos nosotros en “desarrolló la necesidad supuesta del mundo” de llegar a ser mucho más reconocida de cómo están correlacionados todos somos -- toda la gente, por todo el mundo.

De largo he encontrado la caridad de la palabra repugnante. Es repleta con el matiz repugnante de rico -gooders repartiendo alms a los pobres agradecidos.

Una palabra mejor para éstos actúa sería responsabilidad. ¿Cualquier persona entre nosotros cree realmente su comodidad relativa se ha logrado con trabajo duro y mérito? ¿Honesto te crees tener una casa caliente, un coche, bastantes ropas, y un montón de alimento a comer debido a un sistema fino donde nadie se ha dañado en el curso de lograr esta posición? (Te hizo nunca juegan a rey de la colina como niño?)

Un de largo plazo hace, un amigo y un escritor brillante, Frances Moore Lappe, convencido me que la etiqueta “subdesarrollada,” como en el “mundo subdesarrollado,” fuera un verbo, no un sustantivo.

Eso es porque cuando examinas el proceso de cerca, puedes ver cómo todo nuestra abundancia y privilegio en los países industrializados ricos está viniendo en un coste tremendo -- underdeveloping sistemáticamente el rico en recursos pero el tercer mundo económico-pobre para mejorar nuestros el propios vive.

La evidencia es irrefutable. Decirme un metal o un mineral crítico -- lata, hierro, cinc, aceite (!) -- y bosquejaré hacia fuera para ti una historia de la brutalidad y de la extracción exploitative que haga que tu pelo está parado en extremos.

Es esas verdades horribles, combinadas con nuestras actividades políticas secretas -- asesinatos, golpes, y el soborno de líderes corruptos, no mencionar guerras injustificadas -- eso ahora ha preservado las ventajas comparativas de los países occidentales para demasiado largo.

Podemos haber pensado que nadie miraban esta violación desgraciada de nuestra tierra común, pero no realizamos que el planeta sí mismo miraba. Ahora, como huracanes y el calentarse global y otras respuestas ecológicas llegan a ser siempre más inevitables, el precio colectivo tremendo de nuestra avaricia se convierte en todo demasiado obvio.

Estas tormentas ahorrarán ni a ricos ni a pobres.

Los intelectuales tan cada vez más occidentales ahora discutirán que sea hora para nosotros de explorar dejar este planeta, y colonizarán la luna, el Marte, y los mundos más allá.

Así pues, tengo una pregunta: ¿Bajo este panorama, quién será dejada detrás?

No necesitas ir lejos a visitar el tercer mundo, BTW. Impulsión justa abajo a patinarse fila en LA, o el filete en San Francisco. Toma justa un viaje abajo a las ciudades de la costa del golfo en ruinas. Conducir alrededor de Biloxi del este. Satisfacer a alguna gente local.

Su lucha es nuestra lucha. Cuanto más pronto realizamos eso, mejor la ocasión que todos tendremos de supervivencia. Los que cuentan y guardan sus millones, sus centenares de millares, incluso sus millares meros, necesidad de hacer una nueva y mejor clase de matemáticas.

Lo que cada uno de nosotros “tiene,” es lejano más que otros entre nosotros pueden soñar siempre con tener. ¿Es eso justo? ¿Eso fue escrita en piedra por algún Messiah u otro? Si es así él es apenas digno de respecto.

Sé que esto es una estación religiosa para los believers.

Para mí, sin embargo, es la estación de la vergüenza.

Ice on the throttle ( Hielo en la válvula reguladora)

The doorbell rings.

"Yum, yum." says the friendly Chinese man.

We have to keep our small wall heater on 24/7 these days. It freezes overnight. Filling the kids' lunch boxes between serving them courses of warm cinnamon bread this morning was like working a one-man assembly line.

Check: one napkin per box. One fork. One small water bottle. Carrots, cucumbers, or broccoli. Apples, grapes, tangerines, kiwis, berries distributed in the proper combination as per each kid’s preferences. One string cheese each. One little bag of crackers. A cookie each.

And then, of course, a thermos of warmed-up Chinese food each, courtesy of Yum Yum House.

The sight of ice all over my car slows the 7:20 a.m. choir run. Aidan and I peer through the partially defrosted windshield. "Everyone is driving so slowly," he notes. Meanwhile he pulls his sweatshirt over his legs; he wears shorts almost every day, but especially today. Because an older kid has been suspended from school, he may be moved up to the varsity basketball squad for this afternoon's basketball game!

We practiced all weekend. At five foot ands maybe 80 lbs., he can easily outmaneuver me these days. My extra foot of height, 120 lbs. in weight, and 47 years does me no good against his weaving and bobbing, or against his graceful fade-a-way jumper.

He's a joy to watch.

An hour later, I am back at the school, dropping off his little brother and sister.

Three kids, three backpacks, three lunchboxes.

Now, it's time for me to get my workday going. I have three laptop computers packed in my trunk; the two PC's are malfunctioning; the Mac is the only reliable box I have these days. Traffic is heavy.

It's 9 a.m. Three hours after I woke up, I'm on the job, looking through excel spreadsheets, checking out the editorial tool, meeting with colleagues. A check of my electronic calendar reveals what I already knew -- six main meetings today.

This year is winding down, just like the leftover rice drained down into my garbage disposal this morning, as I was cleaning up the kitchen. Years slope downward, as we all know. The feeling is just like riding a sled down a snowy hill.

The bottom approaches. Then the year pivots and a new one begins. We make resolutions. We get a burst of new energy. Let us count the days: 365 to come in 2007. Many early breakfasts, many lunches into boxes, a variety of dinners. Lots of trips to Safeway, to the cleaners, to school plays, to the self-service gas stations.

Down 101, up 101. Into the house, out of the house. Down the bag stairs to play basketball with the boys, back up the stairs for some water. The days, now so short, will grow longer. Spring will return, a time of planting.

It will be a season of letting go of the past and trying to find new paths too the future. Maybe granola bars, I'm thinking, or PBJ sandwiches. Maybe salami slices, or cauliflower. Maybe a hard-boiled egg now and then.

Pass the salt.

-30-

Hielo en la válvula reguladora

Los anillos del timbre.

“Yum, yum.” dice a hombre chino amistoso.

Tenemos que guardar nuestro calentador pequeño de la pared en 24/7 actualmente. Congela durante la noche. Llenando las cajas del almuerzo de los cabritos entre la porción los cursos del pan de cinamomo caliente esta mañana eran como el trabajo de una planta de fabricación de una persona.

Cheque: una servilleta por la caja. Una bifurcación. Una botella pequeña del agua. Zanahorias, pepinos, o bróculi. Manzanas, uvas, mandarinas, kiwis, bayas distribuidas en la combinación apropiada según las preferencias de cada cabrito. Un queso cada uno de la secuencia. Un poco bolso de galletas. Una galleta cada uno.

Y entonces, por supuesto, thermos del alimento chino calentado-para arriba cada uno, cortesía de la casa de Yum Yum.

La vista del hielo por todas partes mi coche retarda el funcionamiento del coro de 7:20 mañana. Aidan y yo miramos con fijeza a través del parabrisas parcialmente descongelado. “Cada uno está conduciendo tan lentamente,” él observa. Mientras tanto él tira de su sweatshirt sobre sus piernas; él usa los cortocircuitos casi diarios, pero especialmente hoy. ¡Porque han suspendido a un más viejo cabrito de escuela, él puede ser movido hasta la escuadrilla del baloncesto del varsity para el juego de baloncesto de esta tarde!

Practicamos todo el fin de semana. En cinco ands del pie quizá 80 libras., él puede outmaneuver fácilmente me actualmente. Mi pie adicional de la altura, 120 libras. en peso, y 47 años me hace ningún bueno contra el suyo que teje y que se menea, o contra su puente agraciado de la descolorar-uno-manera.

Él es una alegría a mirar.

Una hora más adelante, estoy detrás en la escuela, cayendo de su pequeños hermano y hermana.

Tres cabritos, tres petates, tres lunchboxes.

Ahora, es hora para mí de conseguir mi ir del día laborable. Hago tres computadoras de computadora portátil embalar en mi tronco; las dos PC están funcionando incorrectamente; el Mac es la única caja confiable que tengo actualmente. El tráfico es pesado.

Es 9 mañanas. Tres horas después de que desperté, estoy en el trabajo, mirando sobresalgo a través las hojas de balance, comprobando hacia fuera la herramienta editorial, satisfaciendo con a colegas. Un cheque de mi calendario electrónico revela lo que sabía ya -- seis reuniones principales hoy.

Este año está enrollando abajo, apenas como el arroz de sobra escurrió en mi disposición de basura esta mañana, pues limpiaba encima de la cocina. Los años se inclinan hacia abajo, como sabemos. La sensación es justa como montar un trineo abajo de una colina nevosa.

Los acercamientos del fondo. Entonces el año gira y un nuevo comienza. Hacemos resoluciones. Conseguimos una explosión de la nueva energía. Contemos los días: 365 a venir en 2007. Muchos desayunos tempranos, muchos almuerzos en las cajas, una variedad de cenas. Porciones de viajes a Safeway, a los limpiadores, enseñar juegos, a las gasolineras del autoservicio.

Abajo de 101, encima de 101. En la casa, fuera de la casa. Abajo de las escaleras del bolso para jugar a baloncesto con los muchachos, sostener las escaleras para un poco de agua. Los días, ahora ponen en cortocircuito, crecerán tan más de largo. El resorte volverá, una época de plantar.

Será una estación de dejar va del pasado y de intentar encontrar las trayectorias nuevas también el futuro. Quizá las barras del granola, estoy pensando, o los emparedados de PBJ. Quizá rebanadas del salami, o coliflor. Quizá un huevo duro ahora y después.

Pasar la sal.

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