The passing of Ted Kennedy has me thinking about a lot of things – bloodlines of greatness, tragic flaws, the modern meaning of liberalism and, of course, the issue of the day: healthcare.
Fixing a broken system at this scale has appropriately triggered a fierce national debate. And while I find myself tempted to tune it out altogether (full disclosure: I have amazing healthcare coverage provided by one of my jobs), I am still drawn to the part of the debate surrounding President Obama and what some believe to be his failure to adhere to the methodologies central to his party’s platform.
This perceived failure is where I am ever more glad that I cast my vote for President Obama and where I tell him to soldier on and make as many people as angry or confused as possible. What he promised to do (at least what I perceived he promised to do) was to finally extricate real American values and goals from the clutches of both parties to form a platform of good-for-all initiatives that can no longer afford to languish in limbo, held hostage by meaningless battles over fringe issues.
To use healthcare as an example – the “real” American value is a commitment to developing the best healthcare possible, with a reasonable and rational system in place to provide it and administrate it to our citizens, that can exist within our capitalist identity and market-based economy.
In my opinion, President Obama is ultimately playing a game of chicken with the GOP and the far left elements of his own party (whatever “far left” means, I’m finding this very hard to define these days). By being willing to withdraw the controversial “public option”, he is effectively pulling out of the debate the Republicans’ favored accusation toward any governmental solution to a large scale problem – “socialism”.
For years, the democrats, have trapped themselves into a weak argument on healthcare by using moral arguments and wonky explanations of complicated efficiencies of scale and multi-tiered program structures. By refusing to posture for his own party’s terminology, he is asking the Republicans to step forward and tell him, then, how exactly we are going to provide quality healthcare to all Americans.
President Obama is now essentially saying “Okay, fine, ’socialized’ medicine’ is off the table. Now, if you could, please tell me how the kids dying of cancer will be able to afford their treatment. Tell me how the people being rejected by insurance companies for pre-existing conditions can afford their treatment. If it’s not the government, then who?”
And if he can hold out, he can finally expose that 1) they do not have an answer to this question and 2) their policy is based on what it is always based on: what is best for themselves and their lobbyists as individuals and entities and not what is best for the country as a whole.
It’s already starting to happen. According to this article in Slate, Republican senator, Tom Coburn (also a medical doctor), answered a constituent’s question about her husband’s brain injury and their struggle with affording his treatment with the following: “The idea that the government is a solution to our problems is an inaccurate, a very inaccurate statement.”
The article goes on to explain that the plan that Senator Coburn is supporting is virtually the same as President Obama’s and that his comments have been met with embarrassment and disbelief by doctors around the country.
President Obama is exposing both parties here. By appearing willing to ditch to the public option, he can’t be as easily defeated by Republicans with accusations that he is a “socialist” and a lover of “big government”. He can also expose his party’s own tendency to get lost in a debate on ideology instead of real details. Of course we have a moral responsibility to provide health care to the sick, but beyond that we still have to create a viable and sustainable system to provide care that doesn’t bankrupt our country or the insurance industry, which despite its proliferation of evils, is still the source of thousands of jobs and billions (zillions?) in corporate tax revenue. We all have to work together, like it or not.
I am not a health care expert. I have nothing but empathy for anyone who even attempts to wrap their brain around this incredibly complex problem. Perhaps one positive development to come from this heated debate will hopefully be for more people to engage themselves in a little bit of the wonky, boring stuff. Once you look at the facts, it gets a lot harder for the Republicans and the insurance companies to hide that there has been some really rotten stuff going on.
We, as a country, are definitely smart enough to develop a better system as long as we can move past our own buzzwords and blind party affiliations to get there.
It’s been a long week. I can always tell it’s been a long week when I continually forget what day it is. Something about our new “weather” makes it ever more difficult to distinguish one day from another – was it Tuesday when it rained? It rained every day, but was it in the morning or the afternoon? The rain seems to separate mornings from evenings as though they were separate entities and I feel myself believing three days have passed in the span of just one.
I bring this up not only as a pseudo-poetic introduction to some shameless self-promotion, but also as an introduction to an examination of the necessity of rock in roll in our lives. It’s something that we in Saint Bernadette think about often and something that has been in the news over the past few weeks as public radio and VH1 (things we tune into now that we are officially irrelevant people) feature profiles of Woodstock on its 40th anniversary. Is rock n roll important? Is it necessary?
In the interest of community building as well as shameless self-promotion, I would offer that it is both. As critics and pundits and commentators struggle with reconciling their admiration for the music that made up Woodstock and the fact that it was really just an overcrowded disaster full of drug and alcohol users, one thing they often forget to mention is that the music works without the drug and alcohol. 11 year olds in the 70s put on The Who in their bedroom to great effect just like I danced around to The Police when I was 8 and totally convinced that “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” was about me.
Rock is the expression of that little voice inside that’s always demanding this: “Tell me again why we created this bizarre system of life whereby I need to go somewhere for 8 hours a day that I do not like and do something that I do not care about, all for the privilege of coming home to someone I probably can’t stand and affording to spend the weekend buying things I do not want or really need or that perhaps I pretend to really want or need so that I don’t have to face the fact that I spend most of my life doing what I don’t want to do?”
it could be then, that rock is just a part of the man’s game, a false panacea, that keeps us trapped in our cycles of false achievements and phony happiness. Or it could be that, if used correctly, it’s the motivation necessary to respond to that demand with “You don’t need to spend most of your life doing what you don’t want to do. Just some of it. Now, figure out what you really want to do. And do it. Really hard.”
I can’t promise life changing epiphanies at our show this Friday, but I can promise that we will try – really hard.
took place exactly one week ago. This was a historic event that you probably missed, but you will nonetheless feel its after-effects, as the seismic shift it caused in my consciousness alone had to be powerful enough to bring about change throughout our fair city.
As I stood in the window of my loft in downtown Bridgeport, looking out over Baldwin Plaza, the time came for me to come to terms with the true existence of my pot belly. What do I mean by “true existence”? What I mean is it’s “actual size”, not the size that I pretend it is when I am sucking it in and standing sideways in the mirror.
What I’ve discovered in recent months is that I am nearly always sucking in that stomach – when I’m driving, sitting at my desk, writing this blog. The cumulative effect of constantly sucking in my stomach is that my body and my mind have started to live as though the pot belly is not really there. Over time, different parts of my body, like my shoulders and upper back, knees and hips, have been taxed unfairly to maintain this illusion. The illusion, in turn, compounds the effect by allowing me that little bit of leeway in any changes to my diet or exercise habits that would eventually eradicate the pot belly.
This cycle of denial seems as inherent to modern human nature as the search for food was in primitive man. But, what is truly sad is its exponential and compound properties – the way the denial of the problem prevents the problem from being addressed, and the systems developed to cover up the fact that the problem is not being addressed simultaneously worsen the problem.
Does this remind you of anything?
My problem is that I consume more calories than I burn, thereby resulting in the pot belly. Until I lower my calorie intake sufficiently and consistently enough, that pot belly will remain. And the longer I keep sucking it in, the longer I will fail to make the necessary changes to my calorie intake and the more collateral damage the rest of my body will suffer.
Bridgeport’s problem is that nearly all efforts focused on the improvement and redevelopment of the city are based on reclaiming an image of the city from the past or from other cities in Connecticut with which we do not have the resources to compete. The longer we keep trying to fashion an urban environment that caters to the smallest slice of our diverse population, the longer the isolation and stagnation will continue and the more collateral damage the city as a whole will suffer.
I could go into detail about what I mean here, but I think everyone knows what I’m talking about, don’t they?
I am as guilty as anyone when it comes to this crippling pattern of denial, but I made the choice to open my eyes and address my pot belly, utilizing the most powerful force of socialization known to modern civilization, the oft-abused, but nevertheless imperative: public shame.
I opened my window at Read’s Artspace as the moon rose over Baldwin Plaza and let the belly hang over the window sill. My husband stood on a chair holding a flash light and called out “look up here!”
Now, as we Bridgeport residents know, there is no one on Baldwin Plaza at night on a Tuesday, it’s only Thursdays when we can count on the downtown artists that the city so wisely and uncharacteristically imported in four years ago to do something crazy and enjoy this beautiful city resource. But despite the lack of people to witness the public shaming of my belly, I can assure you that my belly did, in fact, feel ashamed and in the past week, I have stayed true to those changes in diet and exercise that are the only proven path to the elimination of the pot belly. In addition, my shoulders, back, knees and hips have stood up in strong support of this action. We stand, unified, and together we will succeed.
Bridgeport is an international city and at the same time, a uniquely American city. Its history is a reflection of every major American drama of the 20th Century. But if you want to know what the kids in Bridgeport think about Bridgeport’s history, you might come up with something like this recent news item.
Many of the efforts over my 4-year residence in Bridgeport are the equivalent of this monstrosity on my pot belly. But because I am just a humble local artist and community blogger, and one with a firm commitment to bringing only the good news about Bridgeport, I will refrain from using this platform to publicly shame anyone who may be responsible for the layers of misguided and futile efforts that swirl around Bridgeport’s redevelopment efforts. Instead, I offer you my own public shame as the catalyst to the end of my own cycle of denial.
If you see me riding my bike to Seaside Park, just give me a wave of encouragement!
Or better yet, be a jerk! Never mind that Sweetport is something different every summer – there’s always something, right? And only your attendance and feedback will help the various organizations, planners, promoters, and presenters figure out exactly what you like and how you like it.
This year the lovely people at City Lights Gallery were given the Herculean task of organizing cross-platorm, multi-faceted, multi-cultural events programming that will appeal to your eyes, ears, and tastebuds. I like their approach of guest curators, themed events, and mutliple locations, but I also know that it has probably been difficult for some people to comprehend the overall concept and/or to find information on individual events. But, I’m optimistic and I think the past few years have developed an awareness of free summer events in Bridgeport that we can continue to grow, working together.
The West Indian Jerk Fest, hosted by the Greater Bridgeport West Indian American Association will host a Jerk Fest comprised of steel drum and reggae music, jerk chicken and pork, and visual art throughout the gallery.
FREE MUSIC ON McLEVY GREEN, BRIDGEPORT
1 P.M. REGGAETON
2 P.M. JAZZ
3 P.M. SWING – Wayne Hiller Band
4 P.M. STEEL DRUM
6 P.M. REGGAE: ANTHEM WITH MUTTIE LEWIS
All proceeds from food sales to benefit the West Indian American Assocc. of Greater Bpt.
Scholarship Fund.
Rock your inner hippie, the one that’s been out since Vibes, and tie dye a t-shirt at City Lights too!
Enjoy some reggae, some jerk chicken, some brightly colored visual art and the after party at Two Boots. Then come back to the blog and complain about it!
Remember this term from the 80s? This was something Ronald Reagan promoted and George H.W. Bush called “voo doo” economics, and though it was fiercely debated in its time, I think we’ve realized thirty years later that we all believe in magic.
Many of us DO believe that if our government and economy encourage the current rich people to stay rich, we might one day be one of them or at the very least get invited to one of their parties. And I’ve got no trouble with that – a great party is a great thing. I still venture out in search of them all the time and try to host them whenever possible. But the challenge of a great party is making it great. One place where “trickle down” is absolutely true is in nightlife. Any good party stems directly from the inherent party power of its most gifted guests. Why are people still talking about Studio 54 and Woodstock? Because the anchor talent at those parties – no matter how diverse – could be depended on to bring the party when necessary.
So, what is truly the most tragic effect of reality tv and the now never-ending supply of vapid, average people who are considered celebrities? Their parties don’t “trickle down”.
What do Liza Minnelli, Mick Jagger and Mikhail Baryshnikov have in common? If they are called upon to rock the party, they actually can rock the party. A great party, like a great performance, is supposed to be life affirming. As you experience it, you are meant to feel part of something, meant to feel you understand what it means to be human, what it means to be yourself.
A bad party, like a bad performance, can bring on an existential crisis of epic proportions. When you are trapped in the grip of a party resting only the talents of a B list reality TV star, you find yourself instantly gripped by an onslaught of philosophical dilemmas conjured up into a toxic cocktail of Sociology 101, a few sick days in front of Dr. Phil, and that copy of “Power of Now” that someone loaned you three years ago.
Saint Bernadette and Father Touch ventured out beyond Bridgeport last night for a truly B-list experience – a record label party in a downtown loft, a “lingerie” themed-event with an open vodka bar, sponsored by Ed Hardy and complete with “appearances” by some people from Gossip Girl, the Real World, and some other shows on TV that I have never heard of. The experience of trying to rock at a party where a 20 year old girl in underwear is DJing imperceptible, melody-less music, while unrelated people jump around in underwear swilling free vodka, as a self-important short guy in an Ed Hardy bathrobe talks on the phone and smokes an “electric cigaratte” provoked a crisis that not even “existential” can describe. Only the promise of returning our beacon of hope and weirdness in the Park City kept us from stuffing the free Ed Hardy t-shirts down our throats and ending it all.
Listen! This is a matter of dire importance. Don’t let any more average people get control of entertainment and media. The difference between directing your attention at someone who deserves it is so profound, but yet so subtle that you can forget it exists at all. It’s much easier to forget the farther away you get from it. Do yourself a favor – don’t watch anything that is a parade of average people fighting each other about the minute details of their regular lives. You have your own life. Go rent a DVD of your favorite performer -whoever it is – Liza Minnelli, Frank Sinatra, David Bowie, Justin Timberlake, – even the Jonas Brothers (I mean, I hate the Jonas Brothers, but at least they work really hard and practice every day and have a great light show!). Remind yourself that only people who can really rock the party, can trickle down the party into your everyday life.
It’s all part of the regular Thursday nights at Baldwin Plaza, downtown Bridgeport. Bring a cooler and a grill and enjoy the festivities which will include: the building of a Bridgeport stonehenge! Fire poi, simulated ogre violence, giant chess, meat on a stick, Hawkwind cover bands. Movie on the Green: Dragonslayer”.
What whale you ask? I’ll tell you what whale. What does every so-called up-and-coming city, starving for culture and economic development want more than anything?
CELEBRITIES!
And last night in Bridgeport, we got one. You might even say we got THE one, the great white whale himself: Moby.
Now, Saint Bernadette will not be posting any photos of him as Saint Bernadette is no star-chasing paparazzo, but instead a community advocate and general spreader of good-will and as such would never claim that any participant in Bridgeport’s downtown nightlife is any more important than any other.
All right, fine, so I was trying to be cool and I never asked if I could take one, okay??
Instead, I will post photos of last night’s fine entertainment at Two Boots, a really interesting Iranian-American singer called Ali Eskandarian and a bunch of nice lads from Brooklyn called Black Taxi. The whole evening was organized by my favorite new person, Travis at Fairfield County Happy Hour Club. I highly recommend checking out this site and attending whatever events are organized, promoted, or suggested by this site!
Black Taxi sounds the trumpet at Two Boots
The Happy Crowd Looks On
This event was just one taking place on the ever-exciting Fairfield Ave. strip of what we in-the-know types called the “Bijou Square” area. The other was a Pogo’s reunion taking place at it’s former location, the under-utilized Murphy’s Law. In attendance were Bridgeport and beyond’s luminaries from a music scene that was cool while it lasted, far before most of Connecticut even knew what cool was. Murphy’s was nice enough to commemorate its former identity by promptly running out of beer. Although this might seem like a bad thing – it turned out to be a good thing, as it sent these luminaries, including the great white whale, down the street to Two Boots in search of another liquor supply which they promptly found with the added bonus of the night’s entertainment.
So, once again we have nothing but good news to report. The chain of event creation/promotion as an engine of regional economic development and good times was in full effect this Saturday night as a Norwalk-based promoter brought a Brooklyn-based band to a Bridgeport venue to be appreciated by a regionally mixed crowd peppered with none other than white whale sized celebrities. What more do you need to know that Bridgeport is happening, everyone?
I mean I suppose I could give you intimate details, photo and video of the late night party we had with Moby, but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you . . . .
Dubbed as the 1st Annual Fiji Mermaid Promenade and organized by the perennially weird, though consistent Downtown Community Council, headed by Bridgeport cultural icon, Keith Rodgerson, last night’s event on Baldwin Plaza hit the “sweet spot” of alternative programming – a truly alternative yet still multi-generationally entertaining evening of pro-am entertainment.
Check out video of the fire-dancers here –
What I mean by “pro-am” is that the night’s performances consisted both of professional performers and of community members with a love and passion for the art form. The video above represents the “pro” element, and the video below depicts Bridgeport resident Vanessa Karam presenting her skills, still in development, though as you will see in the video, very beautiful and very fun to watch!
Check out video of Vanessa here –
The night started off slowly as a trickle of participants milled around on the green, setting up tents, and listening to the music provided by Rodgerson and Gregg Iwaszkiewicz, as the sun set, the music and the general excitement seemed to draw people in and cars started arriving from Stamford, Norwalk, and beyond.
Baldwin Plaza, Bridgeport, CT 08.06.09
By the time we had to leave to make another commitment later in the night, the crowd had gathered into the hundreds of people (well maybe just over 100, but we’ll take it) and for anyone who spends time in downtown Bridgeport, to see a crowd like this gathered on a Thursday night with literally zero dollars for promotion is a complete marvel.
Keep in mind as you check out these photos – that these were taken at Baldwin Plaza in downtown Bridgeport at an event that was thrown for your enjoyment for FREE.
Photo by Natrasha Papageorge
Photo by Natrasha Papageorge
Photo by Natrasha Papageorge
Do yourself a favor – just accept the fact that it’s nearly impossible for presenters, organizers and promoters to find you as they plan their events and please go out and try to find them – just a little. They ARE there, I assure you – and all the activities that you always wish were happening ARE happening, it’s just that the tiny amount of money available to make them happen does not include another tiny amount to let you know about it.
Join the Downtown Community Council’s facebook group here for future events – including Saint Bernadette and friends on September 3rd. More news on that to follow.
