Late (Subway Blog)

Posted October 6, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: New York City, Stress, Uncategorized

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Late late late.  What is it that makes some people (i.e. me) almost inevitably so?

It can’t be enjoyment of that sick feeling in my stomach, the itchy anxiety that runs up the inside of my arms, the vacuum roar in my throat.

I jump on the first train I come to, an E, even though it doesn’t go exactly to the stop I need.   Then, at the next stop, a C—a C!— a local, but also the train that will stop at my station— pulls up across the platform.

I dash across.  I make it through the old grey doors.  I even get a seat.

As the E speeds off on the other track, the conductor of my C tells us that the train is being held in the station.   We wait.  He tells us again, just in case we don’t realize that we are standing stock still.  The vacuum roar spreads from my throat to my solar plexus; despair fills my core.  My little bit of lateness will now be a lot of lateness, and it is all my fault.  Stupid stupid C.

The train finally begins to move, but slowly, jerkily, like a Conestoga wagon over a rutted ditch.  The scene is somewhat different from the classic Western, however, due to the blackness outside the train and the gloomy fluorescence within.  What I should say is that the train moves like a Conestoga wagon somehow transplanted into a cheap diner at 2 a.m.

I feel horrible.  Yet, the despair caused by lateness is something with which I am well familiar.  Why?

1.         I tell myself it’s because I am busy.  (But most people in this city are busy.)

2.         I tell myself it’s because I can’t refrain from certain morning conversations, which, though irrelevant to the specific tasks of the day, are necessarily required for the construction of a “self” to get through these tasks.   This doesn’t seem a good reason either since a certain share of these conversations are arguments, which (I hope) are not actually the building blocks of that sense of self.  (I try not to wonder about that.)

3.         I tell myself it’s because I don’t much like waiting.  As a child of another overly busy woman who spent time in conversations aimed at bolstering the self in order to get through hard days, I did a fair amount of waiting when I was little.   (The only problem with that reason is that  I’m generally gleeful when early.)

4.         Perfectionism?   (Maybe.  I do tend to sweep my living room just when I should walk out the door.)

5.         Reluctance?  (On certain work days, possibly.)

6.        A need for specialness?  A desire to prove that I’m lucky, blessed with extraordinary gifts of good fortune, such as clocks stopping, trains taking wing?  (Hmmm…..)

Finally (finally), we pull into 42nd Street which is the station where I would have had to switch from the so much faster E, had I stayed on.  The platform is crowded.

Ah.

If you are a New Yorker, you understand the reason behind that “ah”.

If you’re not:  the full platform means that no other C has pulled up here recently;  that, even if I’d stayed on the grass-is-always-greener other train (the E, or even if I’d jumped the express, the A), I would not have caught up to a C train before the one I am sitting on.

Which means that I have, today, taken the very quickest combination of trains available on the New York City subway system.

Ah.

I run when I get off, feeling blessed.

“Cautionary Tale” – Another One – A Villanelle

Posted October 5, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry, Uncategorized, villanelle

Tags: , , , ,

One more poem came to mind when thinking of the Roman Polanski affair, a villanelle.  This is not one of my best villanelles!  (Sorry–check out prior villanelle posts.)   But I hope you find it interesting in light of the current debate.

This follows the basic villanelle format, though there is some slight variation in the repeated lines.  (Again, see prior posts on villanelles both for a rundown of the form, as well as for a discussion of the virtues of cheating in writing any formal verse.)

As always in my poetry,  it’s the punctuation (and not the line breaks) that are intended to mark the pauses.

Cautionary Tale

“It’s hurting me,” she said in half belief,
as he freed her passing hair from a button’s play.
He offered nothing else for her relief

except a smile agleam with shiny teeth
and eyes flecked with intelligence and grey.
“It’s hurting me,” she said in half belief,

about a life that had grown spare, deplete,
while casting him as knight to save the day.
He offered nothing else if not relief–

opened doors, used credit like a thief,
assured her “no” each time she tried to pay.
“It’s hurting me,” she said in half belief,

but smiled inside at all that seemed in reach;
her smooth-skinned youth would certainly hold sway;
she offered nothing else for his relief.

Game over when he pinned her underneath.
His weight, his age, his wealth, would have their way.
“It’s hurting me,” she said in half belief.
He offered nothing else for her relief.

(All rights reserved.  Karin Gustafson)

Beneath It All

Posted October 5, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry

Tags: , , , , , ,

After writing post yesterday about Roman Polanski and Beef Inspections, thought about some poems that might connect.  Here’s one:

Beneath it all

Beneath the red over blue sky,
she walked a beam, its wood dark
as charcoal; just below it, gravel.  Still,
she held arms out
to her sides
as if balancing on a narrow ledge, in
a harsh wind,
pretending.  Pretending too
that she was still a little girl, while
also pretending to be older.
To be younger and older both
felt cute, like wearing,
with conscious insouciance,
a too-short skirt over legs
that had learned allure.
Sure of the man watching, she
pretended to slip, then
caught herself, smiling in mock
relief, the feel of control surging through her
like growth itself.
She had much to learn and
would have a hard time at it.

(All rights reserved.  Karin Gustafson)

Roman Polanski and Beef Inspection

Posted October 4, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: news

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

My short attention span was caught by two very different articles in the New York Times today.  One, by Michael Moss, was “E Coli Path Shows Flaws in Beef Inspection.”  The other is really a group of articles about Roman Polanski, “The Polanski Case – A Gallic Shrug” by Michael Kimmelman, and “Room for Debate:  The Polanski Uproar” which features a group of views by writers, professors, lawyers (Geraldine Ferraro).

What struck me about the beef article is the degree to which safety standards in the industry are “self-regulated.”  According to the article, the U.S. Department of Agriculture allows grinders to devise their own safety plans, including self-testing, which the grinders then scrupulously ignore.

What also is impressive (i.e. scary) is the factory-like nature of beef processing; the fact that burgers are produced like cars, with parts shipped from multiple venues, both within and without the U.S., then hurriedly assembled (or in the case of beef) smushed together.

Frankly, many of the “beef products” going into hamburger can only be called “beef” in that they, like e coli and the manure that feeds it, were produced, at some point, by a cow.   Contamination seems almost a by-product of the system.  Everything is done too fast, with an emphasis on saving cents on the pound.  No one wants testing because no one wants an expensive recall.   Many producers will not even supply to grinders who test;  instead many want their products to be mixed up (and confused) with other products, then quickly sold to consumers who, it is to be hoped, will cook the life out of them.

There seems to be a kind of magical thinking going on here;  producers don’t want a system of testing because they don’t want (a) a timely finding that there is something wrong with their particular beef product, and (b) to have to do something about it.

Sadly, the only enforcement mechanism that seems to be effective is a heft law suit generally brought because of the death or paralysis of an e coli consumer.  A law suit happens, or threatens to happen, which, perhaps unfairly, clobbers a couple of players whose products are traceable and  suddenly, those players (and hopefully others)  literally clean up their acts.

Which somehow brings me to Roman Polanski.  I feel great sympathy for Roman Polanski.  He has suffered truly horrific events in his lifetime.  I cannot even begin to imagine the pain of these events.   I am guessing (like the rest of the world) that his pursuit of terribly young girls in the Seventies was probably a by-product of some of this pain.

I also believe that the Los Angeles County system of justice, and the greater federal justice system, probably have more urgent tasks on their current agenda than chasing him down in Switzerland.

But none of that is an excuse for drugging and raping a thirteen year old.

I hate to say it but all the reasons Hollywood and France brings up to exonerate Polanski just don’t make sense:

Yes, it’s true that many many people have done awful things and gotten away with them.

Yes, the girl’s mother bears blame.

Even the fact that the girl, now woman, has forgiven Polanski doesn’t excuse him from law-breaking.

Yes, Polanski has made some great films.  Yes, thirty years have gone by and Polanski appears to have a settled life.  These factors bear on issues of clemency, the likelihood of repeating the crime, whether he’s a danger to society (I don’t think he is) etc. etc.  But they don’t excuse him.

Even the fact that Polanski’s suffered a great deal in his life doesn’t exactly excuse him, at least not in the way the Hollywood people use the phrase—”he’s suffered enough.”  (He has suffered a great deal, but most of this suffering doesn’t seem to have come as a result of the rape incident.)

We have a criminal justice system. It is supposed to at least try to treat people equally, without regard to whether the perpetrator of a crime can pay off the victim, or can please other people with their movie-making.  It is also a system which people are supposed to face up to.  It can’t reward people for flight from its strictures;  it can’t simply ignore this kind of flight because someone is famous.

What to do with a case like Polanski’s?  I have to say that if I were a law enforcement official, I would not have ordered a concerted search for Polanski at this point.  At the same time, if I’d been Polanski himself, I would have been careful to lay low in France.

I guess this is part of what connects him to the beef producers in my mind:  first, the magical thinking, and second, the ad hoc quality of his pursuit (which reminds me both of the testing process, and the law suit process.)  But the fact is that if you are not going to self-regulate, then it’s possible you may eventually be walloped by the law.   Certain things (including both e coli and warrants for arrest and extradition) don’t  just go away on their own.

I should note here that I’m a vegetarian.  And was raised as a Lutheran.

Saturday Working At Office – Dog Tired

Posted October 3, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: children's illustration, dog, Stress

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,
Towards the End of  A Saturday, Working at the Office

Towards the End of A Saturday, Working at the Office

At The Very End of a Saturday, Working at the Office

At The Very End of a Saturday, Working at the Office

All rights reserved, Karin Gustafson.

If you like elephants as well as dogs, check out 1 Mississippi, at link above.

Saturday Morning Gymnastics

Posted October 3, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: children's illustration, dog, elephants, Gym

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,
Saturday Morning Gymnastics

Saturday Morning Gymnastics

Friday Night Bowling

Posted October 2, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: children's illustration, dog, elephants

Tags: , , , , , ,
Friday Night Bowling

Friday Night Bowling

For more elephants (but no dog), check out 1 Mississippi by Karin Gustafson at link above.

Thirteen Reasons Not To Set Up A Car Office

Posted October 2, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: Stress

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Re New York Times article of September 30 byMatt Richtel, “At 60 M.P.H., Office Work Is High Risk ,” here are thirteen (or more) reasons not to turn your car into an office:

 1.         The car in front of you.

2.         The car behind you.

3.         The cars on either side of you.

4.         The child who is in one or more of those cars.  (Also, the adult.) 

5.         The child that you may be driving to school (or the one who is already sitting in school.)

6.         Your frontal lobe.

7.         The hot – very hot – cup of coffee clasped between your legs (despite the warning emblazoned on its styrofoam sides that that coffee is “hot, very hot.”)

8.         The fact that you are evidencing to all persons with whom you come in contact, either digitally or through the window, (a) your complete lack of common sense, and (b) your narcissistic grandiosity regarding your own significance in the global world of commerce.

9.         The negative effect upon the demand for good public transportation i.e. a commuter rail or bus system, that would allow you to gab or type away while only irritating people,  not threatening their lives.  (Sorry, that one’s awfully PC.)

10.       The muting effect caused by headphones on (a) talk radio, (b) EZ listenin’.  (I guess that one’s kind of a benefit.) 

 11.   The oncoming speeding car.  (Oh wait—that’s you.)

12.       Can it really not wait till you pull over?

13.       Are you that bored with life?

Father Sonnet

Posted October 1, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: parenting, poetry, Uncategorized

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The last few days I’ve written about parenting–engaging young kids and encouraging “make-believe”–and sonnets.  So today, I thought I’d combine all subjects.  (I don’t mean the “make-believe” comment to refer to the religious aspects of the poem, but the bedtime story.)   The sonnet is Shakespearean in rhyme scheme (and attempted meter.)

My Father

My father knelt beside my bed; his round head
reflecting the bedside lamp with the look
of lighting within.  “And the genie,” he said,
“came out of a big blue jar.”  Not from a book
were the stories he told me at night.
Always of genies who were big-blue-jarred
and did fairly little, only the slight
magic of minor wishes, often ill-starred.
Though the stories were just a warm up to
the bedtime prayer.  “Our Father,” that would start,
then straight out head for “hallowed”, “trespass” too,
unknown words, to me a spell he knew by heart,
invoking, croakingly, a wished-for will
that the blue genied jar could never fulfill.

(All rights reserved.  Karin Gustafson)

Re Jane Brody- Benefits to Parents of Engaging Child With Talk

Posted September 30, 2009 by ManicDdaily
Categories: parenting

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Thinking today of Jane Brody’s article in the September 28th New York Times, “From Birth Engage Your Child With Talk”.  The article discusses the importance of parents and caregivers talking to their infants and young children, rather than tuning in to their cell phones, Blackberries, and iPods (and tuning out their young charges.)

As Brody points out, the benefit to infants from having their parents talk to them is pretty clear (i.e. they learn to talk.)

What Brody doesn’t discuss are the benefits enjoyed by parents from such exchanges.  Here are a few I came up with:

1.         Any parent taking the long view realizes that he or she should take full advantage of any time period in which the child willingly listens to them.

2.         Even more valuable is any time period in which the parent is allowed, even smilingly applauded, for repeating him or herself.   (Babies are rarely heard to complain: “Mom, I heard you already.”)

3.         Babies are among the few people (outside of talk radio audiences) who greet nonsense talk with glee.

4.         Babies will laugh at even your stupidest jokes.  Babies will especially laugh at your stupidest jokes.  (Subtle plays on words tend to fall flat unless (i) you do too, and (ii) it’s something like “shoe”, “atchoo”, and “shoo!” said to the cat.)

5.         Babies like to hear you sing.  Babies love to hear you sing.

6.         Pointing things out to babies – the red rose bushes, the white clouds, the blue rapidly oncoming car—makes you notice such things as well.  A distinct advantage over cell phones.

7.        While it is true that a baby, if screaming or vomiting in the car seat, can be a significant distraction to the driver, studies have yet to show that they increase accident rates by 23 times.

8.         Babies’ super-active brains are hard-wired to learn language (and many other things).   As a result, they are probably the “smartest” conversationalists you’ll ever have even if relatively silent;  they take your  words literally to heart.

9.       Most parents really do want a child who can talk to them some day, even to say “Mom, I heard you already.”  (Another person to call on the cell.)

10.     Babies don’t charge for roaming.

If you have a baby, or know one, and want something to read to them with numbers and elephants and whimsical (sorry!) watercolors, check out 1 Mississippi by Karin Gustafson at link above or on Amazon.