Fremont and The Other Big S
Well, I guess its obvious by now that Howard Schultz hasn’t taken my advice and the Big S is still pretending to be Original down at the Market. Still no bulletin boards, still no public toilets. And Bruce Springsteen has yet to play out in front. It’s a shame really, we would have enjoyed it. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, money doesn’t get to be that great by being modest. Or truthful. So we will have to resort to other measures…
Seattle has become a big bag of money, a transplant of armored cars instead of the footed people who once dwelled here. The history of this place is problematic, as is the history of all the world I suppose. A people living unsuspecting lives one day encountering another people with intrusive agendas. Property is created out of the commons, laws are passed, deeds are written and recorded. A city is born. And the heroes of that city are the ones who made the first roads, built the first fences, crafted the first charters delineating the borders between legal and illegal, engineered the first court systems, erected the first jails, and put the first prisoners in them. Bankers, real estate speculators - the ones who held the money in their hands like a policeman’s baton and used it to sweep aside everyone who just didn’t get it. This was progress, goddammit! This was theirs now, said the money/batons, and they would use the argument of split lips and broken heads, leg irons and lynching parties. It’s not an argument that makes or accepts sense, depending as it does on thug muscle and ferocity. The mouth vs. the fist. Not always a fair fight.
I won’t say I’ve given up on Seattle but I will say that I am disappointed. Seattle seems to have rolled over on its back like a dog looking for treats, kicking its legs in the air, lolling its tongue to one side, exposing its underbelly, and saying “give me money and I’m yours.” As a city it doesn’t seem to care how many people are bothered by its greed and avarice. It will make the biggest fool of itself so as not to insult Big Money – Bill Gates, Paul Allen, Howard Schultz, Suzie Burke.
Suzie… The last straw for me was Fremont. Suzie’s dad owned the trail along the water there. The Burke-Gilman Trail. It was a soft and rustling strip of land along the canal where the boats went by to get in or out of the Sound. There were a few elderly buildings, boat works and outfitters, and a line of trees where the birds would roost to have lunch. It was slow and humane. When the old man died and Susie got a hold of it – wham! - all hell broke loose. Spring-loaded psycho-developers bounded out of their boxes, rubbing their hands and slopping their drool, and in a matter of minutes the entire canal along the Fremont side was built with stalagmites. Multi story buildings with the kind of pastel sterility that only 21st century Corporate America is capable of. And that was the end of the canal. Not in the reality of no more water and no more boats, but in the way that the people who lived and loved and roomed there could no longer call that vista their own. If our lives can be partly defined by what we see and what we are surrounded by then all of their lives were changed, and through no design of their own. Now there was something in the way, a blindfold on the horizon.
Now, I’m not into stopping the time clock or anything like that. Don’t get me wrong - I’m not some brittle old character shaking his cane at the wheels of progress – no, I understand that things move on. But I think they should move with more of a collective consciousness. Not for the gratification and whimsy of a small group of rich folks but for the good of us all. Or, more accurately (and this is where I could get into trouble) for the good of “the people.” Yes, there is such a thing as the people. And if we would stop playing stupid we could figure out who they are. They sure ain’t Suzie Burke.
Ever stand on the hill in Fremont and look down at the water? I have, a thousand times. Imaging you were raised there. Maybe born and raised there. Watching the boats go by and the rain come down on that wonderful canal - that’s your world out there. Now, somebody has just built a wall – a wall that generates big income for people who already have more than you do – all along that water so that you can’t see it any more. They have built a wall across the face of your world. Did anybody ask you? How can they do this? They can do it because they “own it.”
Ownership by the few at the expense of the many. That’s problematic.
I had an interesting conversation in Portadown one night about ten years ago. That’s a town in Northern Ireland. (This will make sense in a bit, hold on…) I had played a folk club and was staying at somebody’s house. My host and I were relaxing with a drink or two. It had been explained to me a few days earlier up in Derry that the war was over, the Irish had won, and that all that was left to do was the paper work. Britain was leaving. It would take time, but they were on the way out. Well, my host that night in Portadown was the son of an RUC officer. That’s the police force up there, not well loved by the Catholic Irish, often accused of favoritism to Protestant loyalists. It had been scary for him to know that his father was out on patrol in a unit so hated by half of the population. Now maybe he could relax a bit. Anyway, we talked about the future, and my friend asked me, “Do you think democracy would work here? Do you have democracy in your country?”
I was taken aback at first. After all, its supposed to be universally known that America is the fountain of democracy and for him to even ask such a question should have been, well, out of the question. But ask it he did and I had to answer. So I thought for a moment and I said, “Yes, we do have democracy but we need to define it. They tell us in school that democracy is ‘one man one vote,’ but that’s not quite right. Really its one vote per social power unite. And you have to decide what the social power unite is. In America it’s the dollar. So our democracy is one vote per dollar. And that’s why Bill Gates will always have more votes than I will. Until we change things.”
I don’t remember what we talked about after that. We had a few more drinks and went to sleep. But I think that’s pretty close. One vote per social power unite. Until we change things. Look out Suzie. Look out Bill. Inequality has to be maintained by force. And forced maintenance gets you into trouble. The gears wear down, the straps and leg irons get weak. Walls start to crack. If you leave a jail alone long enough the weather itself will do the job. Nature breaks the bank.
They say that Rome wasn’t built in a day. They say it like it means something, like they’re proud of it. But it doesn’t matter how long it took to build. Who cares? What’s important is that Rome didn’t fall in day. That’s the point. Because we will last longer than their new Rome and we will help to dismantle it. And we will clear away the obstacles and make way for the vision of the people. And we will learn to dance. And we will watch those boats go by again.
Seattle has become a big bag of money, a transplant of armored cars instead of the footed people who once dwelled here. The history of this place is problematic, as is the history of all the world I suppose. A people living unsuspecting lives one day encountering another people with intrusive agendas. Property is created out of the commons, laws are passed, deeds are written and recorded. A city is born. And the heroes of that city are the ones who made the first roads, built the first fences, crafted the first charters delineating the borders between legal and illegal, engineered the first court systems, erected the first jails, and put the first prisoners in them. Bankers, real estate speculators - the ones who held the money in their hands like a policeman’s baton and used it to sweep aside everyone who just didn’t get it. This was progress, goddammit! This was theirs now, said the money/batons, and they would use the argument of split lips and broken heads, leg irons and lynching parties. It’s not an argument that makes or accepts sense, depending as it does on thug muscle and ferocity. The mouth vs. the fist. Not always a fair fight.
I won’t say I’ve given up on Seattle but I will say that I am disappointed. Seattle seems to have rolled over on its back like a dog looking for treats, kicking its legs in the air, lolling its tongue to one side, exposing its underbelly, and saying “give me money and I’m yours.” As a city it doesn’t seem to care how many people are bothered by its greed and avarice. It will make the biggest fool of itself so as not to insult Big Money – Bill Gates, Paul Allen, Howard Schultz, Suzie Burke.
Suzie… The last straw for me was Fremont. Suzie’s dad owned the trail along the water there. The Burke-Gilman Trail. It was a soft and rustling strip of land along the canal where the boats went by to get in or out of the Sound. There were a few elderly buildings, boat works and outfitters, and a line of trees where the birds would roost to have lunch. It was slow and humane. When the old man died and Susie got a hold of it – wham! - all hell broke loose. Spring-loaded psycho-developers bounded out of their boxes, rubbing their hands and slopping their drool, and in a matter of minutes the entire canal along the Fremont side was built with stalagmites. Multi story buildings with the kind of pastel sterility that only 21st century Corporate America is capable of. And that was the end of the canal. Not in the reality of no more water and no more boats, but in the way that the people who lived and loved and roomed there could no longer call that vista their own. If our lives can be partly defined by what we see and what we are surrounded by then all of their lives were changed, and through no design of their own. Now there was something in the way, a blindfold on the horizon.
Now, I’m not into stopping the time clock or anything like that. Don’t get me wrong - I’m not some brittle old character shaking his cane at the wheels of progress – no, I understand that things move on. But I think they should move with more of a collective consciousness. Not for the gratification and whimsy of a small group of rich folks but for the good of us all. Or, more accurately (and this is where I could get into trouble) for the good of “the people.” Yes, there is such a thing as the people. And if we would stop playing stupid we could figure out who they are. They sure ain’t Suzie Burke.
Ever stand on the hill in Fremont and look down at the water? I have, a thousand times. Imaging you were raised there. Maybe born and raised there. Watching the boats go by and the rain come down on that wonderful canal - that’s your world out there. Now, somebody has just built a wall – a wall that generates big income for people who already have more than you do – all along that water so that you can’t see it any more. They have built a wall across the face of your world. Did anybody ask you? How can they do this? They can do it because they “own it.”
Ownership by the few at the expense of the many. That’s problematic.
I had an interesting conversation in Portadown one night about ten years ago. That’s a town in Northern Ireland. (This will make sense in a bit, hold on…) I had played a folk club and was staying at somebody’s house. My host and I were relaxing with a drink or two. It had been explained to me a few days earlier up in Derry that the war was over, the Irish had won, and that all that was left to do was the paper work. Britain was leaving. It would take time, but they were on the way out. Well, my host that night in Portadown was the son of an RUC officer. That’s the police force up there, not well loved by the Catholic Irish, often accused of favoritism to Protestant loyalists. It had been scary for him to know that his father was out on patrol in a unit so hated by half of the population. Now maybe he could relax a bit. Anyway, we talked about the future, and my friend asked me, “Do you think democracy would work here? Do you have democracy in your country?”
I was taken aback at first. After all, its supposed to be universally known that America is the fountain of democracy and for him to even ask such a question should have been, well, out of the question. But ask it he did and I had to answer. So I thought for a moment and I said, “Yes, we do have democracy but we need to define it. They tell us in school that democracy is ‘one man one vote,’ but that’s not quite right. Really its one vote per social power unite. And you have to decide what the social power unite is. In America it’s the dollar. So our democracy is one vote per dollar. And that’s why Bill Gates will always have more votes than I will. Until we change things.”
I don’t remember what we talked about after that. We had a few more drinks and went to sleep. But I think that’s pretty close. One vote per social power unite. Until we change things. Look out Suzie. Look out Bill. Inequality has to be maintained by force. And forced maintenance gets you into trouble. The gears wear down, the straps and leg irons get weak. Walls start to crack. If you leave a jail alone long enough the weather itself will do the job. Nature breaks the bank.
They say that Rome wasn’t built in a day. They say it like it means something, like they’re proud of it. But it doesn’t matter how long it took to build. Who cares? What’s important is that Rome didn’t fall in day. That’s the point. Because we will last longer than their new Rome and we will help to dismantle it. And we will clear away the obstacles and make way for the vision of the people. And we will learn to dance. And we will watch those boats go by again.