All posts by David Obelcz

Editorial, National, Think About It

The east coast vs west coast politics of the street

TL;DR

1) NYC doesn’t live up to its reputation as heartless, dangerous, and dirty
2) Homelessness is in the darker corners of the city
3) Seattle’s live and let live policies and lack of law enforcement has created a different environment
4) NYC doesn’t have human feces, used needles, stolen bike parts, and middens lining the streets and sidewalks
5) What Seattle is doing is not working
6) We need a leadership change in King County/Seattle
7) Think about it

I am trying not to turn this into a shower thoughts blog with so much awfulness that continues to happen – so I will try to behave.

I’m in NYC for part of the week, and the Malcontentment Happy Hour will be on the road, relatively low production, and shot from California. So stay tuned for that. I’ve observed some things and have had these thoughts rolling around my head since my last business trip.

On my last trip, I asked the question – where should I jog after dark? The response was, “on Manhattan? Anywhere you want.” I was quite surprised by this response. I’ve jogged or walked from my hotel in NoMad to 78th heading north, past Soho to the south, through Greenwich Village, Times Square, large parts of Central Park, Hell’s Kitchen, Chelsea, Korea Town, Garment District, Alphabet City, and tomorrow I’ll add Tribeca to the route. I can’t say I’ve been to every inch of Manhattan, but I’ve covered a lot of asphalt and concrete. I’ve run after dark and in the early morning hours on empty streets, and I’ve run through congestion and crowds during the evening commute. I’ve run through commercial districts, empty urban canyons of finance and commerce, and past old apartment buildings and brownstones.

Several things stand out to me. First, I have never felt unsafe. I have never had the hair stand on the back of my neck, keep an eye on that person, unsafe. Next, I’ve never seen a used needle on the sidewalk, or in a restroom, or anywhere — not one. I’ve never had to dodge human waste or animal waste for that matter. Police presence is high; there is the perception that the police are everywhere or just a moment away.

On Sunday as I was running in the Madison Park area in the early morning hours, I was surprised at the lack of homelessness. That isn’t to say there isn’t any homeless in Manhattan. That would be a Huckabee-Sanders grade falsehood. I see the homeless and their cardboard encampments under the scaffolding and corners of buildings. As I ran up one street I could see in the distance the top of tents; white tops lined up in an empty lot. Ah-ha! Here is a homeless encampment. But it wasn’t one. It was an outdoor antique market that sets up in the lot every Sunday. It was then it struck me like a hammer. Seattle is one screwed up the city.

New York City has plenty of homeless in it, and they have more places to hide in the darkest corners. In the subway tunnels among the fumes, the damp, and the rats, the homeless call the edges of the tunnels and abandoned lines home. They are there. I have seen an Asian man who looks far beyond his years sitting on 6th on the same piece of cardboard for the last two days. His head slumped down, barely awake and aware. He looks and acts like an opioid addict. It is there, and you don’t have to squint to find it.

But I had this realization in my brain where I have been conditioned to watch for large tent encampments and/or derlict RVs and that I now have to be more aware. More aware for human waste on the sidewalk, needles lurking on the edges, or disturbed individuals lurking in the corners. I see the top of tents in a city, I immedidately assume homeless encampment. Again, I am not saying that New York and the boroughs don’t have them, I have yet to stumble on one. But one doesn’t have to move that far from Pike Place Market, or Pioneer Square, or Capitol Hill, or other tourist meccas in Seattle to find tent encampments and the piles of trash, stolen Lime bike parts, human waste and needles. So many needles – and it makes me sad for my adopted home.

On that same Sunday, there was another man just outside of a pharmacy talking loudly. Homeless and mentally ill, an old man, a Brooklyn Jew was talking to him. Trust me, one, I’m Jewish so I can stereotype, two this old man was a walking stereotype with the accent alone. He knew the homeless man’s name; he knew he took medication; he asked him if he was still taking his meds. He wished him well. The homeless man continued to talk loudly about Jesus and how he’ll care for him. Here was compassion, and patience, and grace, in a city that most believe lacks all of the above. Maybe the moment was well timed, but in Seattle I find that because the city and county leadership is doing what seems like all the wrong things, the good will is erroding all around us.

The policies of Rudy Guilliani tested Constitutional boundaries – I won’t drift into shower thoughts with my view on Guillani, it isn’t as blunt as you may think. The harsh reality is the crackdown he implemented and the policies of near-zero tolerance on any crime no matter how petty has had a positive impact. New York’s crime rate is at and has been at historical lows. The city doesn’t tolerate BS is the most simple way to put it. Remember, this is a city largely filled with liberals with a liberal mayor and a liberal governor, but has a very centrist policy on law enforcement. It sure isn’t perfect, Riker’s Island and the Tombs are finally going to be closed, an ill-managed, under-funded, horror of constitutional violations.

The stark contrast to Seattle and the city’s problems is impossible not to notice. Seattle seems to believe that compassion is live and let live. That and resistance to any program perceived to be big government or might infringe on perceived rights. I can’t let this thought go. Would I jog through Pioneer Square at 11 PM? Or at 6:30 AM on a Sunday? How about Belltown on a random drizzly Monday at 9 PM? I’m not saying that New York is crimeless, and maybe I’m being blissfully ignorant and pushing my luck on being mugged or worse. Hell, I’ve been harassed by teenagers on Lake Washington Blvd. jogging at night (keep it classy Kirkland) – and more than once. Caught with 3 grams of fentanyl? In Seattle you walk. Literally. Let that sink in. 18% of cases referenced by police to the prosecutors office go to prosecution. Let that sink in.

What I do know is the city where I live is a hot steaming mess of used needles, human waste, and tent encampments. The problems are getting worse, not better. In some ways, Seattle is still cleaner than New York. It’s hard to explain but New York has many rough edges to it. I just believe more and more that our elected officials in Seattle and King County have let us down and it is time for a change. What we’re doing for homeless and poverty? It isn’t working. New York, on the surface at least, seems to have built a better mousetrap.

Non-Fiction

Dad, Oreos, and emergency rooms

Six weeks. Due to logistics and closing requirements, dad would close on his house in Houston in six weeks. There was already tension in the house between him and my wife at the time, but we would try to make the best of it. My son was happy to have “Papa Joe” there, and like most grandparents, dad was far more patient with his grandson than he ever was with me.

The days went by surprisingly quick during the hottest months of summer. I always called August in Houston “reverse winter.” Instead of running from heating source to heating source, you ran from air conditioning to air conditioning. On a summer Friday afternoon, the movers confirmed they would arrive on Tuesday, the same day my father was closing on the house. Having made peace with who he was just a few weeks earlier, I was looking forward to having my dad close enough to visit but far enough away to take him in carefully measured doses.

I have terrible eyesight, was born that way, and as I type these words my middle-aged eyes betray me more with each passing year. Without my glasses or contact lenses, I’m blind, in the legal sense of the word. Work had been intense, and I was at one of several high points in my career. Business travel had continued during those weeks, and I was home for a quiet weekend and a lull in travel.

Sunday morning, it happened. The bedroom door flew open with tremendous force. My wife at the time could sleep through the explosion of a nuclear weapon, and if she did wake up, you were better off being repeatedly raped by a rabid polar bear than deal with her wrath. The door opened with such force I thought for sure it was my dad, and I was instantly awake – flashes of my dysfunctional childhood running through my head. I strained to see who was in the door while grasping for my glasses. Then I heard a small voice.

“Daddy. Papa Joe is very sick, and you need to come – right NOW.”

I then heard the sound of running footsteps back to the other side of the house. My four-year-old son was direct and forceful in his words. I got out of bed and crossed the living room to find my father splayed out on the tile floor of the hallway. He was in shock and ashen; he looked at me and said, “I think I’m dying.” Dad may have put the fun in dysfunctional, but he was not one for dramatics – not when he was sick.

I immediately called 911.

Within just a couple of minutes, an advanced unit arrived. All I could do was go through ABC protocol as a former EMT. His pulse was thready and fast, his breathing shallow. The immediate suspicion was my father had a heart attack. They started monitoring and stabilization and requested a paramedic unit. My father was transported to the VA Hospital in Houston because he was a veteran. We hurriedly got ready and drove to the medical district.

We waited for hours as they ran tests while my son slowly went stir crazy in the waiting area. The hospital decided to admit him. His blood sugar was 378, and he had gone into diabetic shock. They weren’t sure why and they wanted to observe him overnight and do some more testing in the morning. His hospitalization caused a wave of legal panic as his house closing was less than two days away now. We would need to get him stabilized so he could sign a power of attorney. I would need access to escrow and close as his proxy and deal with the movers.

The hospital had a notary, and the social worker deemed him of sound mind. In the morning, we worked out escrow, and I was prepared to do the closing. All went well, except I couldn’t tell the movers where to put my father’s belongings. He had paid for them to unpack, but that would have to be a wash. I talked to him that night over the phone, too exhausted to visit the hospital. I let him know the utilities were turned on or transferred, insurance on the house, and completed the closing. My father sounded off. “You sound tired,” I said. He waved it off, saying he was poked and prodded all day and didn’t get much sleep. The plan was he would be released the next day.

At 2 PM on Wednesday, my cell phone rang from a random Houston number. It was a doctor from the VA. He wanted to know if anyone had talked to me about my father’s condition. I told him, “yes,” and I knew about his diabetes and explained how we hid a package of Oreo cookies in the freezer wrapped in foil and how we discovered he found it, ate a pound of cookies in a binge, and drank two quarts of milk. I started to apologize for the oversight and how we would make sure this would never happen again…

“Has anyone talked to you – today,” he asked.

His tone was methodical and serious.

“No, is there something wrong.”

“I think you need to come to the hospital. Can someone drive you?”

As someone who had spent eight years on a search and rescue team and was a former EMT, no good comes from, “can someone drive you to the hospital?” I caught my breath.

“Are you telling me my father is dead,” I asked in a steady voice.

“I think you need to get to the hospital so we can talk, does your father have other family, wife or kids,” the doctor asked.

“Yes, but they are across the country.”

“You should tell them to get here as soon as they can. Your father had an aortic aneurysm rupture this morning.”

I sat in stunned silence, and then I asked again, “are you telling me my father is dead?”

“No. But he is in a very serious condition and I don’t think he has 48 hours.”

Health and Lifestyle, Local, Safety, Terra Firma, Weather

Get prepared for summer smoke now

TL;DR

  1. Growing evidence that our climate is changing
  2. Puget Sound now has some of the worst air in the country
  3. Summer is coming and with it likely more wildfires
  4. You should prepare now
  5. Particulate matter is horrible for your lungs, and you don’t realize you damaged your lungs until it is too late
  6. N-95 masks help and don’t make you look like a dork, but don’t help everyone
  7. Consider creating a clean air space in your home
  8. This sucks

Climate is not the weather.

The weather is not climate.

Weather patterns are changing globally. When looked at as a whole, there is a growing body of evidence that these changes, which started hand-in-hand with the Industrial Revolution, are resulting in climate change.

The Arctic regions have seen one of the biggest shifts with extreme warm spells, shrinking glaciers, ice sheets, and seaside communities washing into the ocean. Permafrost frozen for more than 40,000 years is become less – permanent. In other regions, like the lower 48 of the United States, the changes are more subtle. Earlier springs, longer falls, increased rainfall when it rains, longer dry spells when there is drought. Here in Puget Sound, a growing addition to this change is smoke.

It is with a hardy and sarcastic, “congratulations,” Puget Sound now has some of the worst air in the United States. Those bluest skies I’ve ever seen as in the song have turned increasingly hazy, and over the past two summers, toxic. Most of this change is due to wildfires that have surrounded our region. Prevailing winds blow the smoke into the Puget Sound region where it gets trapped. The only thing that pushes it out is marine air off the coast, which then turns our skies gray with clouds and drops the temperature into the 60s and low 70s. Our spectacular Augusts replaced by days of 90 plus degrees with orange skies and the smell of burning forests or 65 degree days with drizzle and low gray clouds – but on those days we can breathe.

The reasons for the fires are more complex than weather events or a shift in climate. Poor forest management, increased human activity in forested areas, communities expanding into forests and grasslands, and an increase in “dry thunderstorms,” has conspired to generate more fires. The longer growing seasons, which are weather related, generate more fuel, while hotter summers dry out that fuel faster.

The ironic part is the smoke moves more people to motorized transit, which increases traffic, which creates more pollution, which makes it worse – but the pollution created by vehicles is not the particulate matter created by wildfires. The engineered congestion in Puget Sound creates lung congestion on our worst days.

Our declining air quality due to climate change and forest management isn’t just a Terra Firma Thursday issue; this is also a Weighty Matters issue. In other parts of the world, it isn’t just common, but it is socially acceptable to wear masks when sick or when pollution is severe. In the United States, this is met mostly with snickers.

The fine particulates that turn our skies orange in the summer are terrible for your lungs. The particulates accumulate, that is get trapped inside your lungs, and over time permanently damage your lung capacity. This decrease in capacity is insidious as it happens gradually and over the years. Of all the functions in our bodies, lungs go the longest before revealing to us there is a real issue – and then it is too late to reverse the damage.

As we start to approach summer, with another long-range forecast model of, “hotter and dryer than the norm,” now is the time to get prepared.

  • Get some N-95 masks. When the smoke starts, they’ll become more difficult to find. You can buy them online from many websites including Amazon, Home Depot, and Lowes. Remember, N-95 masks only work when tightly fitted to the face. Small children and those with facial hair can’t use them. Additionally, N-95 masks are not designed to be worn for days on end. Which means you need to limit your overall exposure when the smoke is bad.
  • Surgical masks don’t block fine particulates, they don’t work.
  • Our smoky days typically go hand-in-hand with our hottest days. In 2018 we had several days that would have been record-shattering, 100 degrees plus, but the smoke kept our temperatures down 3 to 6 degrees in the high 90s. Ideally, on the worst days, you should keep your windows closed. Now is the time to consider a portable air conditioner for at least one room, to create a clean air space in your home.
  • Along with a room with AC, having a box fan with a furnace filter taped to the “intake” side (the side that pulls the air) has been shown to dramatically reduce particulate matter in the air. If you can’t afford an AC, a $20 box fan and a $10 filter can significantly improve air quality in a single room. Ideally, if possible, you should do both.
A furnace filter duct taped to a box fan is a low cost way to clean the air in a single room.

  • When you drive your car run your AC and run it in the “max” or “recirculation” mode. This recycles the air within your cabin. If your car doesn’t have working AC, you’ll need to wear an N-95 mask when driving.
  • On the worst smoky days don’t do outdoor activity if you can. If you work outdoors, your employer should provide N-95 masks. This is vital on days where there is ash fall.
  • Exercise should be done indoors in a climate controlled setting. If you have medical issues, to begin with, avoid exercise or better yet, talk to your doctor.
  • Contact wearers should make sure now that their glasses prescription is up to snuff. On the worst days, you’ll want to rip your eyeballs out when you’re wearing contacts.
  • Ash is very alkaline and damaging to car paint. Additionally, ash can create spiderweb scratches in auto finishes. On days with bad ashfall consider rinsing your car off with a hose. Smoke is generally not as bad during the morning hours as we get some marine air trying to push in. If it is down to your lungs or your car paint, you should choose the lungs.
  • Welcome to the new normal.

Health and Lifestyle

Shishito Peppers

You haven’t tried shishito peppers? Why not! A wonderful flavor with citrus notes, about one in twenty will make you go, “whoa that’s got some heat!” At just 2 to 3 calories per pepper, this is the popcorn of green vegetables.

What you’ll need:

30 shishito peppers (not an endorsement, but Trader Joe’s sells them)
1-1/2 Tablespoons avocado oil (you can use high quality olive oil as a substitute)
Kosher salt to taste

1) Heat avocado oil in a stainless steel or well seasoned cast iron pan on medium high heat. Be careful not to smoke the oil

2) Carefully place the peppers in the heated oil, blister the peppers until they have large brown patches on all sides

3) Remove from heat and sprinkle Kosher salt to taste and serve immediately. 

Serve as-is, or with any Asian inspired dipping sauce.

Makes 3 servings
80 calories per serving