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February 14, 2014

Oh, The Weather Outside

We just switched back to snow, from rain. There's two feet of accumulated snow (at least), five in piles where the plows have been or the corners where the shoveled snow starts to pile up. Week after week, since December, this winter has been about snow. And cold. A lot of cold, but mainly snow.

There was the big snowstorm where the snow was all light and powdery, and the one where the snow was all wet and heavy (and heavier with the coat of freezing rain that followed. Then there are those 1-3 inch storms that went form being "oh no!" to "oh well." The night we saw The Lego Movie - me, Mom, and two rambunctious nephews - we got another one of those. Driving home through that was basically a piece of cake. That's what this winter has become. It takes more than a couple of inches of snow, now, to up end a northeasterner, right now.

That's less true down south, where one round of ice and snow paralyzed Atlanta and much of Georgia for a week; that was followed, over the past few days, by the most recent storm paralyzing North Carolina, as if no one had learned anything at all in just a couple of weeks, and with weather warnings more precise - and more accurate - than ever. Like hurricanes, it seems, people just don't believe the warning until they live it. Then, we get people who listen to, and heed, warnings.

Of course, there are diehards who refuse to give in, who refuse to be stopped or even slowed. Here in the northeast, it's easy to find those hardy souls who think every warning is an overreaction, every closing or delay unnecessary. Just put on your heavy coat and gloves and get on with it. Does your school district preemptively close, or take the chance (or, like my eldest nephew, does your private school simply soldier on, no snow days at all)? Unlike the years of amazing blizzards (1978, the memory lingers; and 1996), this year's snow day problem has been attrition: in three months, most New York area school districts have blown through their snow day plans by nearly a week, and the hard choices must be made - no vacations? more days at the end? weekend school? I feel for the kids, really I do.

Then there's the blown snow prevention budgets, the depleting reserves of salt and sand, the towns and cities where plows are few and far between, because winter doesn't do this. Usually. There's the drought developing in California, and the freezes in Florida that will wreck orange juice prices, or the already near crisis shortage of avocados (I picked the wrong year to obsess over guacamole).

This isn't some paean to global warming, or the greenhouse gas issue; it's cold, it's hot, it's wet, it's dry... climate change is worth considering but well beside the point on another night where the snow's piling up and the air is frigid. This winter has been an all too human reminder of our real vulnerabilities and our inability to really control our environment. We are at the mercy of the wind, and the rain, and the snow and the cold. We can dig out and get back on the roads and try to continue as if this all normal... but if this is normal, why do we seem so bewildered, so caught off guard?

The storms will pass, the snows will melt, the rains will come and go, and on some beautiful day in Spring we will again wonder what all the fuss was about. In memory it won't have been quite that bad. We will mostly have survived, largely intact. We'll promise ourselves to be better prepared, get that extra shovel, keep a little more salt in the garage... and then we probably will forget and put it off and soon the next winter will come.

If this is the winter that did you in, the one that makes you rethink living in Minnesota, or revisiting that plan to buy a condo in Florida (maybe this is the solution to their foreclosure crisis! More snowbirds!), it's okay, dude, we get it. This one was a lot to take. This one separates the hearty souls from the mild mannered. My feeling is, you either have what it takes to get through a winter like this, or you should have picked a place without winter. No one said we get to have it easy. There will be snow. It can get pretty heavy at times. The air is cold and the chill wind blows. After twenty years, I had to replace my Timberland boots. And that was in December. They've already served some pretty hard time.

The weather outside, well, yes, it's frightful. There's no two ways about that. I can't remember a worse December - or January, or much of February - come to think of it. But we do live in amazing times: our weather prediction is faster, more accurate, and more widely disseminated than ever. Most of us are better sheltered, and warmer, than our counterparts of even 50, never mind 100 or more, years ago. Sure, we buy milk and bread as if the world's about to end, but the process is mostly orderly and fairly calm. This isn't snowmageddon or the snowpocalypse, or the end of the world. It's just winter. A rough, cold, snowy winter. And I think we've managed to get through it surprisingly well, and probably mostly intact. And that's not the worst thing, is it?

Posted at 07:19 AM in House and Home, New York, Science, weather | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

February 04, 2014

Something About Chris Christie, And A Bridge...

Like many, I think, it was initially sort of mystifying to me why a traffic jam in Fort Lee at the George Washington Bridge was a big deal, or somehow a bigger deal than normal. That's life in and around New York after all - the traffic problems at our bridges and tunnels.

It's instructive, I think, that Chris Christie's disastrous handling of what has turned out to be quite possibly a career destroying scandal is only just beginning to register with the people most directly affected - people in New Jersey, who probably have the lowest opinion possible of the politicians who serve them. Which is saying something, because you'd think you couldn't do worse than how New Yorkers view Albany. But you'd be surprised.

Unsurprised, though, is probably the best explanation of local reaction; it's hardly surprising to discover that Christie was more of the same in Jersey politics, more sweetheart deals for close pals, more vinidictive revenge on those who stood in his way. And it's no surprise that, when caught, Christie and his people blame their accusers and the media, or insist that somehow people didn't understand the last time they tried to artfully dodge the hard questions.

What's surprising, I think, and what maybe throws people off, is the scale of Christie's behavior - "larger than life" barely does it justice. It's astonishing, really, that anyone, certainly anyone in a major role for the state of New Jersey, would look at causing an hours long back up in Fort Lee which would affect the Bridge as either an appropriate form of political retribution or a desirable set of impacts for the local communities. It's a reminder that, around here, to register as truly scandalous, you really have to think big. (Sorry... we're not supposed to use "big" or "large" or... come on, we've got to get over this thing about Christie and adjectives of a certain sort.)

I've probably tipped my hand, but how can one not: it's absurd to me to think that we're watching anything but the unfolding of an obvious, all too clear set of events: clearly, Christie's people, in his office and at the Port Authority, engineered a shutdown of lanes in Fort Lee, reducing access to the Bridge, with disastrous impacts. I don't think you can be Chris Christie and not know or pretend not to have at least allowed it to happen. We know what happened - the question is, can it be proved (I suspect it can), and the more important question is... Why?

Count me as one of those who doesn't buy, for a second, that this was about anything as mundane as endorsing Christie by Mark Sokolich, Fort Lee's colorful, but hardly crucial, Mayor. It's hard to explain, exactly why Fort Lee matters less than other New York facing towns on those opposite cliffs, but really, that's just how it is. It's partly that Jersey City and Hoboken serve as bigger hubs (because of trains) to NYC, attracting more New York ex-pats than others. It's partly that Fort Lee is part of Bergen County, whose tony suburban enclaves were already locked in to Christie's victory anyway, while the other cities offered the tantalizing prospect of boosting Christie's minority vote more than Fort Lee ever could.

I tend to buy that either Christie's people were annoyed about the development project being built right by the Bridge entrance (it dovetails with Hoboken's Mayor's claims, after all, about being blackmailed about development in her city for Sandy money, and underlines Christie's ties to real estate interests), or that Christie was looking to punish Loretta Weinberg, president of the State Senate, whose district includes Fort Lee (and makes her far more powerful, ultimately, in shaping politics in the northern region). But these are just theories. At some point, someone has to figure this out for the story to really make sense.

It's the lack of sense, really, that has driven this story as far, and as wide, as its grown to be in New Jersey politics. A casual tale about dramatic retribution, by itself, wouldn't be more than a blip in local coverage, even one on the scale of shutting down traffic in Fort Lee for four straight days. No, what's been so odd is the fog at the center of this story, the way Christie's people first said "what traffic jam?" then said "it was just a traffic study" when no sensible analyst of traffic patterns or urban planning would recommend wreaking havoc to study the obvious. It's been odd the way Christie said "I need to get to the bottom of this" then casually fired the one member of his staff who clearly knew what happened and why and refused to ask her what she knew and when she knew it. It's been odd that Christie seems, still, oddly passive about just how difficult and inconvenient the traffic mess had to have been, especially given that being in your car and having trouble getting somewhere is the daily language of conversation all over his state. Two things as certain as sunrise in Jersey politics: people complaining about property taxes, and people complaining about traffic and tolls. Why does Christie seem so disconnected when the latter comes up?

The idea that Christie served, even briefly, even just for these off year moments when no one cares, as a serious Presidential contender in the GOP is really just a reminder of how broken the party remains, how unable to find true leadership and a sense of direction. Like MItt Romney, John McCain and the clown car of still viable names, the true likelihood of a Christie presidency was farfetched long before that week last September which now seems likely to ruin him completely. His personal demeanor is off-putting (yes, even in his brusque home state). His known views are unpopular. His unknown views (on, say, foreign policy) would likely make him even less viable in primaries. Yet, there he sat, right up to his reelection, as the Republicans great hope. That was never going to last. No one, though, could have predicted exactly what's happened since.

Because I never took his national ambitions all that seriously (want it all you want; that doesn't scare me), my general opinion of Christie has always been mostly ambivalent. I wouldn't want him as my Governor... but then, I wouldn't live in New Jersey on a bet, or a dare, or as long as there's space on the boat back across the river. I thought he did a good job of putting his strengths on display and paving over his weaknesses, but I tended to think it couldn't last, not the way people opposed to him who know the details better than I ever will kept griping (that property tax thing is a real disaster for them over there, and Christie's in no real position to fix it, A1; there's more). I figured Christie would enter the 2016 race, prove unpopular with the far right and probably have to drop out as a consensus candidate emerged. For a while I thought maybe the Republican Establishment would just throw him up knowing Clinton can't be beaten. Now, I think he's finished.

It's silly, really, to point out obvious things... like the fact that Christie is, clearly, his own worst enemy, both because he was so ham-handed about exerting control over the state, and because he seems so arrogant about being challenged on that very control. It's silly to point out how avoidable this all was, how much Christie and his people should have known this would likely blow up in their faces. But it's even more silly, as some are trying - though very few - to pretend that we don't know what happened here or somehow this could all just be benign. It isn't, and at some very fundamental level, how we deal with what Christie did, and how he tried to wiggle away from it, is a test of drawing lines governing ourselves, and calling some things simply out of bounds. It's funny, yes, to make fun of Jersey, look down on it from our lofty perch here on the other side... but treating badly like this, on purpose, really is just wrong. We should say so, and hold to it. And if we can't... well, then maybe we should just buy that bridge they keep trying to sell us.

Posted at 05:33 PM in 2016 elections, Current Affairs, New York, Politics | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

February 03, 2014

Good Luck With That (The Ezra Chronicles)

Last week, Ezra Klein walked away from Wonkblog, the most recent (semi-)iteration of his blog at The Washington Post.

It's probably a measure of Ezra's semi-celebrity as a blogger and the DC insider swirl that many people would go "who?" and still, I think there's something to write about.

I mention this when I bring him up, because it seems relevant: I blog, even in this limited form today, in large part because of Ezra. It started when I found his blog in the nineties, and found it both an interesting read and a place to get in on a lively conversation in the comments sections of various pieces. Reading Ezra - I'll get back to this - and writing comments made me regain some faith in the notion that I had something to say, and a blog might be a way to say it.

Over time, I've watched Ezra move from independent blogger to the American Prospect (a vast shade of its former self) to the Post, and eventually to the Wonkblog, a kind of curated group effort to delve into various intersting issues of the day. It's been hard, in its way, because I feel like Ezra's successes underscored what I wasn't doing... but also realizing I had no wish to do what he did. Both, in their ways, are sort of humbling. And humble's not so bad, really.

Ostensibly, Ezra's left Wonkblog to do the latest in online fashion - a startup site of his own, a kind of Wonkblog on steroids... or something, it's kind of light on details and specifics, but it sounds kind of like Breitbart without the utter lack of reporting and the barely suppressed rage. That is, there'll be some regular writers, mostly opinion pieces, some deep dives into complex issues... and, well, that seems to be about it. Thus, apparently, can be very successful.

Maybe. I tend to think that it's instructive that when Ezra brought this not entirely fully formed idea to his bosses at the Post, they apparently turned him down more or less flat. Perhaps it was the cost (almost everyone puts his proposal at north of $10 milion), perhaps it was the resources involved (a full blown, stand alone site that would, in essence, have competed with The Post), but myself, I kind of think they turned him down mostly because he'd argued himself out of a job.

Wonkblog has been a curious exercise, a relatively readable, occasionally interesting blog that has some great healthcare reporting (via the brilliant Suzy Khimm and Sarah Kliff), some good economics coverage (mostly from Brad Plumer), and... well, that's about it. Long before the last few months, when Klein seemed to turn his attention well towards other projects, his presence was largely minimal. Though the focus was basically on politics and the DC whirl, the blog was (and remains) parked in the Business section as an Economics blog, a field where Klein is no one's idea of a formal expert. I don't doubt that it's widely read and (relatively) successful, but I'm not sure how much of this, ultimately, can be attributed to Ezra Klein, or what he brought to it at the beginning.

One of the more obvious resons for this would be that Klein has never really developed into a great writer, never mind reporter. Much of his work has been pedestrian, at best. His insights were never especially brave or unique, and I don't mean that cruelly or unfairly - many have made more out of less. At the time of his initial rise, he did respresent something of a fresh start, if only because, like others of his age and background, he was at the core of the "new liberalism" wave that produced first Howard Dean and ultimately, with some tinkering, the success of Barack Obama. A confirmed Obama prostletyzer, Klein nearly led the way in promoting Obama's presidency early and often, while pushing endlessly to marginalize or sidetrack Hillary Clinton.

To the victor, naturally, go the spoils, and Klein's rise into the Post was surely an acknowledgement by their powers that be of his importance in the DC establishment. But much that way Obama's presidency never quite lived up to the dreamy visions of his most ardent followers, Klein's career has kind of stalled. What looked like a promising venture into TV via "analyst" and sub-hosting gigs at MSNBC never quite turned into a show (the geek/wonk parts now being played by Chris Hayes, Steve Kornacki, et al). Though he had a regular column at the Post, and pieces for Bloomberg, they rarely made a ripple. And an apparent book deal with Simon and Schuster has not yielded a finished manuscript.

Maybe it will, but I'd probably cancel the advance if I were them. The sense that Klein's moment has passed can't really be ignored. He doesn't have the showmanship or huckster mentality of, say, an Andrew Sullivan or Glenn Beck, the two most prominent web successes along the model Ezra's pursuing; nor does he have the natural following, these days, of such a signature presence. Nor does he have the specialized skill of, say, Nate Silver, who never seemed an entirely good fit at the Times, and whose decampment to ESPN provides a more year-round use of his stantistical skills and interests.

It may be that Klein is onto something in the group curation, editorial role he seems to envision for himself... but that organizer role isn't new and requires a clearer sense of the product he's looking to put out - and why there's a public waiting for it - than anything I've seen thus far. I don't think it's surprising that the Post's new owners - or the old ones - would have asked just those questions, and not seen value in the answers. Nor do I think Klein's onto the next Politico; DC's just not big enough to need much more of that. So there he sits, developing an as yet unnamed, unseen site, spending millions of other people's money, and maybe, I suppose this thing could burst forth and amaze us all. For the moment... I'll stick with my doubts.

It's not that I yearn for Ezra Klein to fail - God knows, if I really want to take this blog thing bigger, I'll need to have someone like me - it's just that, in the tale of his ups and downs, I find it reassuring that my faith in familiar, time tested, notions still carries through - develop your skills, don't get too caught up in flashy trendy of the moment fads, and sometimes, the instinct that it's too good to be true will prove out. As much as I'd like to believe in the magical powers of the internet and its limitless potential, I remain, at heart, a web skeptic. I don't think online advertising will yet prove to be all it claims, and I think much of the "brave new projects" launched online won't be much more than what we already know - the magazine, the long form book, the TV show. But hey, seriously, good luck with that, Mr. K. Maybe I'll yet find new inspiration out of it.

Posted at 07:13 PM in 2008 Elections, blogging, celebrities, Television | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Alone, Yet Not Alone

I'd been trying - as part of my general "time to reboot consistent blogging" strategy - to put together a piece on Justin Bieber, because his arrest really caught my attention.

And then Philip Seymour Hoffman died.

There's been the usual mix of sarcasm and disdain expressed for Bieber's behavior, a sadly familiar spectacle of acting out and getting caught. It's been harder (though not nonexistent) to find those who worry about the kid (he's only 19!) and hope he gets himself some treatment.

There's an awkwardness in America to discussing and dealing with drug use, abuse and addiction issues, a remnant of our distant history of puritanism, a distinctly American sense of privacy and suggestions that difficult family matters be kept behind closed doors. We are at once a people who want uncomfortable matters swept quietly aside, yet fascinated with the intimate details of each other's lives. It doesn't help that popular culture both rewards and gives notoriety to bad behavior and acting out, our fascination with a life that dares to color outside the expected lines vexing our expectations that people stay within those lines at all times.

When a drunken celebrity - often a young woman - is caught on camera stumbling and slurring and causing a scene, it's the mix of fascination and revulsion that propels it, often, into our national consciousness. Less consideration is given to how we (or more to the point, the person doing it) got to that moment, or what happens next. We talk vaguely of "the downward spiral of child stars" as if its an interesting abstraction, and less the painful trajectory of actual people and their actual lives.

I've been thinking about this a lot in the couple of weeks since Bieber's arrest in Miami, about signs and warnings, and downward spirals. Those who follow celebrity gossip closely - or not even, since I really don't invest the time in it writing like this might suggest - could tell you that Bieber's slide has been widely seen and discussed, bubbling just beneath the kind of coverage that happens once an arrest is made, or the problem becomes impossible to hide. Like Lindsay Lohan, Bieber's early life has been carefully dressed for PR purposes as less chaotic and tumultuous than it might seem on closer examination, the kind of warning signs of someone at risk long before the fame and the easy access arrives.

Addicts tell surprisingly similar tales of pain, isolation and loneliness leading to use and abuse of substances. I've thought about that as well with the Bieber story, how sad can it be to have all that he seemingly has, yet to seem so alone, so fragile, so determined to anesthetize oneself?

But what also comes to mind is a grim reality that's less discussed, partly because, I suspect, Bieber's kind of success doesn't necessarily evoke sympathy, or a certain kind of respect. One can miss the kid's obvious talents, his appealing singing voice, the grace of his dancing, his natural ability as a performer. Some talents, once squandered, can be lamented and and missed. Whitney Houston, or Heath Ledger come to mind. But a Bieber, whose celebrity has trumped his talent... that lament can seem less obvious. But it's still there.

The sad reality is that Bieber's career has been the first, most obvious casualty of his behavior. Though he's toured successfully in the past few years, his status as a teen idol has been almost completely eclipsed by newcomers (One Direction, as well as newer teens like Austin Mahone and Cody Simpson) and established acts (Justin Timberlake, most obviously, has reasserted himself as the kind of heartthrob act Bieber aspires to be). His arrest occurred on the eve of the Grammys, where he was hardly missed, and in no contention for any award. The music world has already moved on, and so has much of the listening public. He hasn't charted a single, or released new material in some time. It's hard to see how he can collect himself, or his thoughts, for a project anytime soon.

That's where, to me, this story of Bieber intersects with Philip Seymour Hoffman. Amidst the lamentations for the loss of a prolific, widely admired actor, there's been the kind of immediate reassessment that happens with death, where the work takes on a fresh glow, and critics tend to emphasize the good and ignore the rest. Hoffman was indeed an actor of amazing range and depth, but he hadn't necessarily enjoyed anything like a career renaissance in recent years. His performances in The Hunger Games were not entirely well received, and underscored a kind of typecasting he endured as a smug, especially cold villain in big budget films. He had more opportunity to showcase his ranginess in smaller dramas, yet even there, it's hard to point to exceptional work in recent years.

Many will protest "but what about The Master?" No doubt his work was intense and skilled; but the film is chilly, dense, hard to love, and failed to find an audience. That's not a failure of the performers, per se, but it goes to a question that lingers about Hoffman, his addiction issues, and his admitted spiral into relapse. What choices might he have made had his addiction been less present, his sobriety more certain? Sober choices are smarter ones, more thought out, riskier yet also less dangerous, based upon more than a check, or a need to prove oneself. Onstage, his turn as Willy Loman was similarly curious, not a bad choice, necessarily, but an awfully big bite for an actor so young, in some ways still maturing and finding all of his potential. It's telling, that the reactions were so mixed, and so extreme; those who loved it, those who didn't have the heart to say it didn't really work.

It's hardest, I think, to have such a phenomenal talent, one that's expressed so young and so well and so naturally that it seems effortless. Hoffman's early roles have a sureness to them that really was breathtaking. Or think of Whitney Houston as Clive Davis found her, such an amazing raw talent for singing and interpreting a song just waiting to fly. And yes, Justin Bieber and his soaring young tenor, that need to be in front of an audience, that eagerness to please and to succeed. Judy Garland always spoke of the inner resources and energy it took just to be the Judy Garland audiences came to expect, capable of singing and performing others just couldn't touch. It should be easier, effortless, not isolating and difficult. And that's not really the case. It isn't easy. There's a lot of effort. And sometimes, it's easier to just fake it. Go onstage a little drunk. Phone it in. When you're that good, you can get away with it. At first, for a while, maybe before people notice, or suspect. For a while anyway. Especially when they don't look. Or pretend not to see.

We'll never know, now, what might have been, the actor Hoffman might have become, the actor he might have been in a more sober state. That loss is genuinely painful to contemplate, as is that question of what or who could have intervened, or knowing that no one could stop a path of self destruction unless he decided himself. If Hoffman's death is a cautionary tale, can someone get it to caution Justin Bieber, to help him see that there's no one to stop him self destructing except himself? I wish he would. I hope he does. The alternative remains too tragic. But not unthinkable, or unforseeable. If we choose to look.