Busting Unions and Destroying the Environment

 

Nothing too exciting has happened for the last couple of days. Yesterday I worked on campus and walked with my colleague, even though it was so hot. We stuck to the shade, and I took the bus back up the hill instead of walking up it. Today was even hotter; I worked from home and walked with my neighbor in the morning, but then we stayed inside the rest of the day. I was supposed to go on an architectural tour of State Street, but it was canceled due to the heat. Tomorrow is supposed to be just normal summer hot, so I'm looking forward to that.

I recently read that 90% of the global warming in this country is caused by the richest 10% of people. That makes sense - those rednecks who look down on environmentalists aren't actually causing the problems, the people jetting off to Davos to decide how to tell the rest of us how to live more "green" are. A lot of it is also investment in fossil fuels, which is generally done by rich people. Those rednecks aren't investing any money they might happen to have left after buying what they need to survive at the Walmart where they work part-time after it put everything else in town out of business. (I've seen this firsthand in rural Iowa, and it's harsh.) Just now I was looking at MyFace, and there was an ad about how to quit your union. Who do you suppose is sponsoring that? I'm going to guess rich people who want even more money by being able to pay their non-unionized workers even less in wages and benefits. These same people are behind a news channel that convinces the non-unionized, Walmart workers that the reason they're struggling is brown people, not rich people who are screwing them over. Because if the poor white people and the poor brown people ever got together and rose up against their oppressors, it would be Game Over for these evil rich people, and they know it, so they turn everyone else against each other. I wish all of us little people could see that we have more in common than we realize, and that it's time to ask for our fair share. People should be paid a living wage. After all, withholding the just wages from the laborer is one of the sins that cries to Heaven for vengeance. 

I used to be very hardcore about protecting the environment myself, biking or bussing everywhere. Now I'm older and a bit lazier, plus I live further from work, so I kind of need to drive a bit. Still, I am very aware of my actions on the environment and always try to choose the least harmful action. For this I can thank Ma Hat, who has always cared about nature and instilled a great love of it in me. She says she remembers fondly how, as a child, I would take walks with her in the rain and go around saving all the worms from drowning. I'm not quite as tenderhearted these days, but maybe almost. I generally relocate bugs that are in the house instead of killing them. And I hate turning on the air conditioning unless it's really necessary... like today. Hopefully tomorrow we can turn it back off.

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The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

 

This morning I was a tiny bit late for work because last night I forgot to refill the hummingbird feeder, and this morning I heard a hummingbird buzzing outside our window, so I quickly made some nectar. Only my easygoing coworker was on campus today, and he didn't care. When I went for my morning walk, I saw that the little tree that seemed to be dying the day I had the mystical experience last month has come back to life, so either the drought is over or the landscapers are finally watering it. I was very happy to see that.

Today we had a meeting of the leaders of the salaried and hourly shared governance, to talk about ageism at the university. We all agreed it was a problem, and that we need hard data to show it's a problem (for example, they didn't ask people's age ranges in a recent climate survey), but we aren't sure how to get the data we need to prove our point, or how we should approach administration once we have the data we need. We did agree this needs to be pursued further. One guy said an administrator actually said they don't bother giving raises to longtime workers because they're less likely to leave. Ouch!

Today was supposed to be horribly hot, and I had to walk to Adoration, but it really wasn't that bad. I planned to stop at Paul's Bookstore to get The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, since after reading about it I realized it was a summary of The Tibetan Book of the Dead for Western people unfamiliar with Buddhism. I was going to go to the Globe for dinner, but instead I went to Fair Trade for a chicken pesto sandwich and began reading the book, not from the start, but from a chapter that intrigued me. It said straight out what I had inferred from the original, ancient book - that these spiritual exercises can be done with a Christ-centric instead of Buddha-centric outlook. After Adoration I went to the Globe and had some kind of dessert that was small but expensive, but it was so exquisite that it was worth every penny. It was some sort of soft cheese flavored with pistachio, rose, and maybe saffron, in sweet milk. I savored it while sitting outside and continuing to read this book. It really brought me a lot of comfort, because I was wondering what I could do for our nephew during his bardo, and it said the best thing is to pray for him, which of course I'm already doing. When Travalon came to pick me up, I told him about the book, and how the spiritual exercises it suggested for the dead, like picturing them being surrounded by love, I had already instinctively done. I have no idea if our nephew is in Heaven or Purgatory, or if he's preparing for another incarnation, but I like to think we've done our part to aid his transition.

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This Is Not a Fire Drill

 

Today was starting off to be a busy day; I had just met with my boss, and I was supposed to meet with some grad students when someone else came in for me to check her documentation to work. Just then, the fire alarm went off, and someone came around to tell us it wasn't a fire drill, and that we had to get out now. The woman who had just arrived ran down the stairs with me; fortunately we were on the eighth floor and only had to get to the fourth floor to get outside. She had almost gone to meet someone else first, on the fourteenth floor - that would have been a lot of running down the stairs! We stood outside, and the grad students gathered around us, so I said why don't we just meet now? They were hoping I had some ideas for funding for the conference they are organizing, so I threw out a few ideas, and they said one was genius and they would go with that. I wish all meetings could be outside while standing around, instead of sitting around inside. Except maybe not in the winter...

Eventually they let us back inside, and I was able to check the woman's documentation. The rest of the day wasn't nearly so exciting. I walked with my colleague at lunch, and we had a staff congress meeting this afternoon, where I sat with my union peeps. The union has no power since Act Ten, so we are trying to change things via shared governance. We hung around afterwards talking, and sometimes it seems funny to me, like we're all middle-aged peons, but I feel like we're kids in a treehouse, plotting to take over the world. Or, in our case, make sure all the peons get paid a fair wage. It does feel like we've made some difference over the years. Tomorrow a bunch of us are meeting, including the chair of the committee I'm on, who really gets sh!+ done. He got on the case of the administration until they raised the minimum wage for the lowest paid workers and gave people who had to work the day after Thanksgiving free parking. We'll see what we can accomplish tomorrow regarding wage compression and inversion. 

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Party and Boat Ride on Friday

 

I forgot to mention the rest of my day on Friday. I went into the office because my colleague and I were going to an open house for a department on campus that we consult a lot. We had cake and sushi and other snacks, and we saw some people we know. A retired person came in, and she has lost a ton of weight since I went to her retirement party in December, so maybe that's what it would take for me to lose weight. I got an empanada from the food cart on Library Mall, just to have some actual lunch, and then my colleague and I took a free boat ride. Here we are.

Eventually I did go back to work until Travalon picked me up. That's where the story starts with my last blog post. Anyway, it was a perfect day for a boat ride. The day before had been too windy - our captain, who reminded me so much of Tiffy's dad, said they couldn't go out that day. He said he has renamed the buoy that they all call "David Buoy" - he now calls it "Buoyonce," because the kids studying limnology today probably have no idea who David Bowie is, but they have surely heard of Beyonce. 

Today Travalon and I were a bit slow to get going, so we went to the nearby church for Mass. We met up with the usual group for brunch, then we went to visit Travalon's mom. For some reason she always thinks that he works at a men's clothing store, so this time he just went with it and told her he works at the Boston Store, but that he used to work at Marshall Fields and make the Frango Mints. She asked if he got to eat the broken ones, and he said yes. Then he got even sillier and said he used to work at K-Mart and turn on the blue light for the Blue Light Specials, and she said, "You went to college to do that?" He was trying to talk a little Croatian to her, because he's been studying it on an apps called Drops. Have you heard of this? I hadn't either, so they must not publicize themselves well. Everyone has heard of DuoLingo (they even have a joke about it in the Barbie movie), Babbel, and Rosetta Stone. Those other two don't seem to have Irish, but Drops does. I've thought about checking it out, but Travalon says it's too basic for me. It just teaches you a few words. It wouldn't be worth it for me when I even know Irish grammar, to some extent.

Then we went to the Brookfield Square Mall, which is even more dead than East Towne Mall. We walked for twenty minutes, then we checked out a few shops and got bubble "tea," which were shakes made of gelato with tapioca pearls in them. I had mine made with green apple and coconut gelato, since you could get two flavors. I asked if those two would go together, and the girl working there said, "Coconut goes well with all the fruit flavors." It was very refreshing on this hot day! Then we hurried back to Madison for dinner at Rich's place. He made fresh brownies - yum! Gelato and brownies in one day? I will never lose weight!

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Penny Fields Goes to Africa Fest

 

Yesterday I got an email from Mariner's Inn that Abbey Lane would be playing there that night, so Travalon and I decided to get a fish fry there while sitting outside and listening to the music. We got there just as the music was about to start, but they didn't have an open table for another hour, so we decided to get an appetizer at the bar and sit on chairs on the lawn until our table was ready. Travalon went to the bar, while I went outside to find a place to sit. To my surprise, Abbey Lane wasn't a Beatles tribute band but one woman playing the guitar and singing songs by women like Sheryl Crow. I told Travalon forget it, and we took our name off the list for a reservation and went to Bear and Bottle. We sat outside and had their coco limeade to start and walleye for dinner, then we went home and I talked to Tiffy. Travalon agreed that it was weird that the musician spelled her first name Abbey, not Abby. 

This morning when I took a walk with my neighbor, I told her that the owner of Mariner's told me that "Abbey Lane's" real last name was some German-sounding one, and Lane was a stage name. My neighbor was of the opinion that this singer named herself Abbey Lane on purpose, knowing people would think she was a Beatles tribute band, so that more people would come to see her. I said I should just call myself Penny Fields in that case, and my neighbor said, "Right? It sounds like a real name." There is a shop in Galena that Travalon loves called Strawberry Lane, but it really does sell Beatles stuff, among other things. It's kind of a 60's nostalgia shop.

Travalon and I went to the East Side Club for their 100th birthday party. It was inside for some reason, but we sat where we had a spectacular view of the lake and the Monona Terrace. A local disco band had played there the night before for Dane Dances, and I wondered how crazy it had gotten. I had kind of wanted to see them, but we have seen them many times, and "Abbey Lane" sounded intriguing. The party was free pizza, free beer, and free cupcakes. I thought someone was going to talk about the history of the club, but nobody had started talking by the time we had to leave to get to my gig at the Ukrainian picnic.

I was feeling salty (as my neighbor put it) about the Ukrainian picnic gig, since it was forty-five minutes and unpaid, and Hardingfele had gotten it for us and then bailed on us. Nothing like volunteering other people's time! However, once we talked them into letting us set up on the shady balcony instead of out in the sun, my mood improved greatly. I was a bit buzzed from the beer at the birthday party, and I already feel less confident on the violin than the mandolin. (All these weeks I know the mandolin is just a piece of wood, but I imagined her being hurt that I kept leaving her at home when going to practice. "Don't you want me to come too?") It went fairly well, and Travalon made videos that aren't high enough quality to post, but I could hear that I was basically in tune. Afterwards, the bass player said I sound good when I play with confidence - I guess the first couple of songs I'd been sort of tentative. My understanding was that we would get tickets for free food in exchange for playing, but the organizer was busy introducing the mayor, who made a proclamation about Ukraine, so we just headed home. We were still full from the birthday party anyway. And nobody came up to me all excited to see my instrument after we'd played, because everyone has seen a violin before.

As if there weren't enough things going on today, someone I know was having pie made from berries from his garden that afternoon, but I told him I probably couldn't make it because of the gig. Technically we could have made it, but we were still full and didn't want pie. After the weather had cooled down a bit, we headed to Africa Fest, where we had missed the March of the Nations with all the flags, and our favorite food cart was sold out of baobab shakes. They still had jollof rice, thankfully. Travalon got dolmada from a different food cart, and I joined him there and got hibiscus punch, since the first food cart was out of all their drinks. We looked at all the clothing and jewelry for sale but didn't buy anything, then we went to listen to the bands playing on the main stage.

The first band was yet another iteration of a Mideastern band I used to play in. The last time I saw them, they had lost the singers and guitar player I played with but had acquired a cellist, who is now gone. Now they have a violinist and a French horn player, and they are doing a lot of salsa, but they did do a song I remembered playing with them. The lead singer is well past seventy and still dresses like she's twenty-two. The second band was an excellent reggae band called Sista Sensi and the Buds, and among other things they did a Peter Tosh song. The third group we saw was an African drumming group that includes the son of one of my bandmates, and we have seen them before. The last group was a band doing music from Mali, and one guy played a really interesting-looking stringed instrument that was like a cross between a harp and a banjo. I made a short video, but it's not really good enough to post. Travalon and I both liked the reggae band the best, but we appreciated that there was so much variety. This is a very family-friendly festival with lots of cute little kids running around, including some who were playing soccer with a very cute poodle. I kid you not, this dog was using his paws to move the ball around just like a soccer player dribbling. Everyone behaved well, and it was a happy vibe there. I love Africa Fest!

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Tibetan Restaurant

 

Today I worked on campus, and every time Travalon and I carpool, we pass a restaurant called Little Tibet on the way home. I have been curious about it for ages, and while I had never eaten there, it seems like I saw yak on their menu at one point. Tonight the whole area was parked up, because there was a big concert at Breese Stevens Field (which we hadn't known), but we went around the block once and then saw a guy leaving, so we got a space right around the corner. One of us is living right! (I'm putting my money on Travalon.) 

Now Travalon is not a big fan of the Nepali restaurant on State Street, Himal Chuli, and he thought the Tibetan restaurant might be similar, so he wasn't too excited to go. I kept assuring him that Tibetan is not the same as Nepali, and as my regular readers know, I've been on kind of a Tibet kick recently. They have a fairly limited menu (and no yak), but I pointed out that they had lamb curry, and Travalon thought that sounded good. But then I said I was getting momos, which are stuffed dumplings, and he thought that sounded good too. He got chicken and cheese momos pan-fried, and his came out as a plate of dumplings. I ordered mushroom and cheese dumplings steamed with what I thought was a side of spicy cheese soup, but they came out with the dumplings in a big bowl of soup. I was slightly weirded out, until I tasted it - delicious! We also had chai (so good!), and I got tingmo steamed bread while Travalon got roti that looked and tasted like a tortilla. And yes, we were naughty and split a dessert of ice cream with mango and coconut. As far as I know, neither mangos nor coconuts grow in Tibet, so this is probably not a traditional dessert, but it was the only one they had, and it was good. 

There was some sort of saying in Tibetan on the wall, so I asked our waitress what it said, and she got another waiter, who told us it was about the four pillars of Buddhism. I am still geeking out over the fact that the Buddha had a feast day (November 27) on the Roman calendar, August 26 on the Eastern Orthodox calendar. I found this on Wikipedia but wasn't sure it was trustworthy because, you know, Wikipedia - anyone can write anything there. However, it is also in the Catholic Encyclopedia online. If I ever became a Buddhist, I would definitely be a Tibetan Buddhist because it's set up just like the Catholic church with clergy (the lamas), a head (the Dalai Lama like our Pope), and prayer beads (like rosaries). Pluses: they wouldn't have an issue with my belief in reincarnation. Minuses: they don't have the Eucharist. I am literally so drawn to the Eucharist that one day I was walking down the street when I felt a compulsion to walk into a door and found myself in a chapel. I kept walking toward one particular spot in the chapel and then realized I was right in front of the tabernacle. Actually, that has happened more than once, in churches where the tabernacle is in an unexpected place but I'm drawn to it like a moth to the light before realizing that's what it is I'm heading for. And it's not like these were beautiful tabernacles - it took me a moment to realize what it was I was standing in front of. I will say at our usual church, the tabernacle is front and center, and it is very beautiful. It looks like something you'd expect to be holding the Eucharist.

I really liked the music at the Tibetan restaurant too. It is what spa music aspires to be but never achieves: very meditative and relaxing. Oddly, the time to go to this restaurant is seven, which is when we usually eat dinner. We got there not long after six and it was packed, but by seven we were practically the only ones in the place. Or was that just today? Travalon said, "I'd go again!" So we undoubtedly will.

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More Killer Building Weirdness

 

Today I worked on campus, and the Killer Building was no joy to be in. Around nine some workman came to my office and said, "I'm shutting your door because it's going to be really loud." I said, "But I'm expecting someone!" and he said, "It's up to you, but it's going to be REALLY loud," so I said, "Okay, shut the door." A few minutes later, the person I was expecting knocked on my door, and I'm surprised I could hear it over all the noise these guys were making. I quickly ushered her and her two small sons into my office and shut the door. Talk about terrible timing! By the time we were done with our short meeting, it was quiet in the hall, but there were weird noises intermittently the rest of the day. My coworkers and I went to check out the damage, and we found they had cut a circle out of the landing in the stairwell. Not only that, but if you looked down, there were circles cut out of the landings below, and even the landings above. We speculated that they were going to install a column because they're afraid our building will collapse otherwise.

When I returned from my noontime walk with my colleague, the two workmen were also waiting for the elevator, and one said to the other, "My wife just told me a stairwell collapsed in Milwaukee, and so far they've found two employees in the rubble." That didn't make me feel any better about what's going on with the Killer Building, but I haven't been able to find any news articles about this incident. Do the workmen know something, like that our stairwell is about to collapse? And whatever they're doing, are they going to be done by the time classes start again in a couple of weeks? They don't care what we peons see happening, but I'm sure they don't want the faculty and students to see it.

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