monolith

Today is witness to still more tragedy in our nation. This time at the hands of someone who has been described as a "sniper," but who I prefer to refer to as, simply, a murderer.

It's got my mind spinning, trying to make sense of what's happening, and one thing keeps pinging in my head - which either means there's truth to it or that I just need to get past it. But I can't help but keep coming back to this idea.

The idea? The monolithic other.

sound

Dozens of people turned out to oppose the new homes, and one of their top complaints was the rooftop decks that were proposed. They expressed concern about the noise from possible parties that would happen on said decks years from now. They demanded limitations on the hours of access to the decks, if not their elimination altogether.

Neighbors complained about the restaurant's proposed outdoor patio. It would only accommodate up to 20 people, but residents from blocks away swore that they'd be able to hear the sounds of drunk revelers until and past two in the morning should the patio be opened.

In both of these instances, the proposed new homes and patio would be located along four-lane streets where cars travel up to 40-45 MPH 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

litter

Mom and dad were in town over the holiday weekend, and we got a little time to visit. I always appreciate our walks and chats, and this occasion was no exception.

They both brought up something that hadn't really struck me before, but as I've reflected on it, I've realized just how profound it actually is. That something? Litter.

bikes

It was a beautiful Los Angeles Saturday morning, pretty much like every other. B and I made our way on foot to one of our favorite brunch places, where we sat outside and watched passersby while devouring our way through a delicious meal. The narrow sidewalk was full of people - both those sitting at the restaurant and those walking past - and Sunset Blvd roared a few feet from us as a row of parked cars provided a "buffer" of sorts between this crowd of people and vehicles zipping past at 30-40 miles per hour. For most Angelenos, this experience of outdoor dining complemented by the constant thrum of engines and smell of exhaust is pretty standard. It's the price we pay for a street system that places automobility above all else. Even with that, however, I was unprepared for what I saw next.

nimby

NIMBY = "Not In My Back Yard"

For many proponents of policies that emphasize traffic safety over car throughput, sustainable development over urban sprawl, and economic vitality over parking availability, time and again efforts to create progressive movement are stymied by objections rooted in a consistent ideology. And that ideology appears to be rooted in a fear of change and old, rigid thinking.

So what are good progressives to do? Well, we label the objections and group them together, of course! And thus the "NIMBY" is born.

origin

We all speak in numerous ways every day. Whether by expressing ourselves in the clothes we wear,  the company we keep, or the professions we pursue, we speak. Having a voice, though, having your own perspective that shapes who you are and how the world fits around you... well, that is entirely something else.

Only recently have I found my voice. It is a strong voice, albeit a tenuous one still getting its sea legs. But it is entirely my own.