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Mi casa, su casa, how about no casa?


This morning a small article tucked into the corner of The Christian Science Monitor caught my eye. Los Angeles, with 48,000 homeless people will allow overnight sidewalk sleeping as long as access to driveways and doorways is not inhibited.

Nestled underneath this grim fact is a picture of Senator Barack Obama grooving with the Frederick Douglass High School band during a Largo, Maryland campaign stop. Somehow I just can’t wrap my brain around the idea that here we are in 2007, another presidential race gearing up, and the fundamental problems of our country seem to remain the same.

Setting the paper aside, I have visions of people lying on the sidewalks of Los Angeles, head to foot, leaving gaps for the orderly exit of cars and people. Will they be allowed to use blankets? What about air matresses and pillows? Pedestrians of course will have to navigate a bit more carefully, stepping around people and belongings. From what I remember of Los Angeles, however, that shouldn’t be too much of an issue, since it seems that most everyone drives rather than walks.  I’m glad that the city of Los Angeles is letting homeless individuals sleep on the sidewalks. Everyone has to sleep after all.

I remember 20-odd years ago, I worked at a Santa Barbara hospital in the records department and routinely read the dictation notes forwarded by the hospital’s physicians. One day I came across an admittance note that listed the patient’s address as under the fig tree. Intrigued, I asked around, learning that there was one fig tree in particular under which many of the local homeless sought shelter. At that time, homeless individuals were not allowed to sleep overnight on the beaches and the fig tree had become a sort of place of refuge. While this was one of my first encounters with the idea of homelessness, it has not been my last.

Living in Las Vegas a few years ago, my son and I decided to visit the original Las Vegas settlement. As we rounded the corner to enter the homestead, my son stopped, pointed at the ground and said with trepidation, "Is he dead, mommy?" Thinking that he meant an animal, I looked around to see the creature he was referring to. Seeing nothing, I replied, "Is what dead?" Grabbing my arm, Adam gestured toward a large gray mass, "Him, mommy, that man." Looking in the direction of my arm, I saw a man, covered in gray. Gray clothes, gray hair, gray bags. Hearing our voices, the man stirred, allowing me to answer "No" as I quickly guided my son toward the homestead entrance.

Home, in early Las Vegas was not much. A wooden shelter to provide protection from the heat, it’s a journey back in time, that I have no desire to take. Yet for at least one man, it would be an offer of shade.

I remember earlier in this presidency a prideful boast that more Americans than ever were now homeowners. Well, not exactly owners, since most Americans purchase homes with the assistance of loans. On the opposite page, one reality of home ownership makes its mark, as the increase in U.S. home foreclosures reminds me that escalating home sale prices is why I still rent.

Recently my son and I toured an open house. The home is immaculate and comes with both a finished basement and an outdoor above-ground hot tub. The house was custom built in 1977 and has been well maintained by the original owners. Researching the area, I estimate that the owners paid about $70,000-$75,000 for the home originally. The most recent appraisal for tax purposes set the house at $259,000. A nice profit on a 30-year investment. So what are the owners asking for this home? $424,000. More than $150,000 over appraisal and close to $350,000 more than they paid for it. Now, I will say that this house has been on the market for at least six months and that particular weekend the owners lowered the price to $399,000. When I drove past the home the following weekend, I wasn’t surprised to see the "For Sale" sign still posted. The increase in home foreclosures has pretty much dried up the chance for a prospective buyer to acquire these super mortgages.

Reading the papers, my husband and I would always ask each other how people do it. How can someone afford a $300,000 home? Well now we know, some can’t.

While the city of Los Angeles offers up its sidewalks, I look around and wonder why there are no better deals.

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Political Prose

Marketplace interview and Bob Herbert column

Here's a link to a Marketplace interview with my coauthor, and here's a link to a recent column by New York Times columnist Bob Herbert that mentions our book.


Here’s a link to a Marketplace interview with my coauthor, and here’s a link to a recent column by New York Times columnist Bob Herbert that mentions our book.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

Dear Reader, In The Fray is a nonprofit staffed by volunteers. If you liked this piece, could you please donate $10? If you want to help, you can also:
 
Blog

Perfume and love


Books turned into movies are train wrecks for me. I know it’ll be terrible, but I have to look anyway. With a couple of exceptions, movie versions of novels are usually insults to the original work, and those involved should be banned from the business (I’m looking at you, Possession cast and crew). But, knock me down, Perfume isn’t just acceptable — it’s the most perfect page-screen job ever.

Stanley Kubrick claimed the book was "unfilmable." Pfft — and Eyes Wide Shut was…

The filmmakers did not cut or change anything from the novel. They also did not dare to create their own original scenes. The script was 100 percent faithful. The images and scenes play to our senses — remember what wet rock or the juice of plums soaking into your skin smells like? Unfortunately, you also have to imagine the stench of a pre-sewer fish market in 18th-century Paris. The acting — Ben Whishaw owns the screen in what is mostly a silent performance.

What surprised me the most was how, aside from the replication of details and specific scenes, the filmmakers managed to keep the heart of the book intact. They weren’t just painting by numbers, they really understood the center of it: what does love smell like? Most book-to-movie versions are usually cold and empty scene-by-scene plays, or the filmmakers have their own ideas about characters’ goals and motivations or even about what the story itself should be. Perfume, as a movie, is that elusive, legendary thirteenth essence.

Ironically, just after seeing this movie, I opened a newspaper this morning to see an article about a Brown University psychologist’s new book about the effect smell has on men and women. In The Scent of Desire, Rachel Herz uses scientific studies to show the dominant role the sense of smell plays in attraction and reproduction. "For women, [smell] beats out all other physical characteristics; for men, all but appearance — and for both sexes, body odor comes perilously close to outscoring all non-physical characteristics as well." Apparently, it’s not in his kiss, it’s in his smell.

I don’t like book clubs. I don’t like Oprah. And I’m no fool — a month away from the film release of Love in the Time of Cholera, the big O chooses Marquez’s intoxicating tale as her new book club selection. Isn’t that a cheeky marketing ploy. No one else could get people to read in droves, and the film will surely get some nice time on her show. I won’t hold it against the film — especially as the under-rated John Leguizamo has a chance to show the world what he can do.

Make no mistake — my Perfume experience has not changed my cynical, expect-the-worst approach to books-turned-film. But you know I have to watch.

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Blog

Glamourous politics


My dirty little secret? I love women’s magazines. I can’t stand many of them for very long (I’m never going to be as severly lean and tan as they are in Self; Bitch is just too serious — and the defense of J.T. Leroy wasn’t necessary; and Cosmo — puh-leeze — quit regurgitating the same stale sex tips.

But my adoration for Glamour lasted longer than any of them. I really did buy it for the articles, not just pictures of cute shoes (although that goes a long way with me); not the Lifetime-television-type tales but the real articles about women’s health (which stated facts, not ideologies), politics, Marianne Pearl’s articles, and the fact that I could stand to look at their models without wanting to feed them. And the pictures of cute shoes.

Alas, the honeymoon is over. Espousing normal bodies and self-acceptance is wonderful, and they have more than practiced what they’ve been preaching. The diet-pill ads started to get to me first. Two full pages devoted to another phony miracle diet pill (which will probably kill you) completely negates the well-fed models and mentality. I have a ballpark idea of just how much ad revenue those ads brought in (two full pages in a glossy? $$$$$$), but you can’t have it both ways. I’m sure there are plenty of stinky little perfume pages to make up for those two pages.

What pushed me over the edge was last month’s issue (America Ferrara on the cover), which had an interview with Elizabeth Hasselbeck — not just an interview but an article featuring her as a champion of free speech in the fearsome face of Rosie O’Donnell. "How to Come Out On Top," reads the headline. In their eyes, the poor little blond is somehow victorious after losing her cool on live TV, taking on the big scary lesbian, and repeating her beliefs (not based on facts) about healthcare and the war. "I love having a debate with other women who are intelligent and passionate." If only Hasselbeck was intelligent. Then she wouldn’t believe that the morning-after pill should not be given to rape and incest victims, that it’s only okay for rich people to live together and have children out of wedlock, and despite the enormous humanitarian crisis of the disastrous Iraq war (based on lies about nonexistent chemical weapons), it is just.

"What are the big domestic issues for you?" they ask. "Education. Health care…It’s insane that mammograms and ultrasounds aren’t free to all women. I spoke at the 2004 Republican National Convention about that." Well isn’t that special? Too bad she aligns herself with the party that could not care less about anyone’s health or well-being. You want women to have free mammograms and ultrasounds? Try Planned Parenthood clinics, which provide a variety  of low-cost or free health exams for women. Many clinics don’t event perform abortions —  they are simply about healthcare.

The Republicans are the wrong party to speak to about women’s healthcare. Under this administration, the FDA appointed a veterinarian as head of the Office of Women’s Health. That’s what we are to Republicans —  just a bunch of animals. 

That was enough. But Glamour kept going. In this month’s issue (Mariah Carey on the cover), there’s an interview with Jenna Bush (the one who was arrested twice on alcohol-related charges and who is engaged to a former Karl Rove staffer) and her "bff" —  a former Glamour staffer. Jenna has a new book out, called Ana’s story, about an unwed teenage mother with AIDS in Panama. You know, the country that Jenna’s grandfather bombed (thank you, Wonkette).

This is just too much for me. Other women’s magazines have bored me and irritated me, but none of them have ever outright pissed me off before. I cannot believe that a magazine that once received a "Champion of Choice" award from NARAL-NY would air-brush and sell one woman whose beliefs are in complete opposition to everything that Glamour used to be about, and another whose father has, and continues to, set back the healthcare, choices, and freedoms of both American women and women overseas by decades.

That’s just not my style.

 

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Political Prose

Op-ed in the Chronicle of Higher Education

Katherine Newman and I have an op-ed in the current issue of the Chronicle of Higher Education, focused on the precarious situation of families living just above the poverty line (also the topic of our recently published book).


Katherine Newman and I have an op-ed in the current issue of the Chronicle of Higher Education, focused on the precarious situation of families living just above the poverty line (also the topic of our recently published book).

Here are upcoming book readings, starting with an event this Friday in the Boston area:

Cambridge, Mass., Friday, Oct. 5, 7 p.m.: Harvard Coop Bookstore, 1400 Massachusetts Ave., reading and signing.

Cambridge, Mass., Wednesday, Dec. 5, 7 p.m.: Cambridge Forum, First Parish (Unitarian Universalist), 3 Church Street.

New York City, Monday, Dec. 10, 6:30 p.m.: New York Public Library, 455 Fifth Avenue, across the street from central research library. 

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

Dear Reader, In The Fray is a nonprofit staffed by volunteers. If you liked this piece, could you please donate $10? If you want to help, you can also: