The Singing Dentist of Bensonhurst new version

By Raanan Geberer
Published in "Bensonhurst Bean" 12/11

“When you begin/Begin the beguine/It brings back the night/of tropical splendor….”

Dr. Pearlstein sang as he looked into Rob’s mouth and started poking around, the curbed probe in one hand, the tiny mirror in the other. Ever since Rob had moved to Brooklyn last year, in 1987, his father had tried to get him to see Dr. Pearlstein as a dentist because Dr. Pearlstein was a cousin and had grown up with his father in the old immigrant East Bronx, and finally, here he was. Dr. Pearlstein’s office was on the second floor of a rundown two-story building on a nondescript commercial street in Bensonhurst whose only redeeming feature was the Italian bakery next door. You walked down a long, narrow hallway to get to Dr. Pearlstein’s office.

“A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H/ I got a gal in Kalamazoo/Don’t want to boast but I know she’s the toast/of Kalamazoo…”

Rob had never heard of a singing dentist before. Not only does he sing, he thought, but he seems to sing only the songs of his own era, which would be the late 1930s and early ’40s. It’s incredible that this guy is still practicing, he thought. He must be in his late 60s, past retirement age. He idly glanced at the wall – here was a diploma from “New York University Dental School, June 1949.” Probably went to dental school on the G.I. Bill, he thought. Suddenly, he became alarmed when Dr. Pearlstein picked up a drill.

“What are you doing with that drill? Aren’t you going to give me an anesthetic or an injection?”

“Well, the X-rays show that the cavity is very small and very near the surface, so we don’t need it. Open your mouth—you’re so good, you’re the best, you’re the champ. Here it comes. I’m not lazy!”

`I got spurs that jingle jangle jingle/As we go merrily along/And they say, ain’cha glad you’re single/And that song it ain’t too far from wrong ’ …You’re doing great! Don’t worry about anything. I’m the master! ` He was a famous trumpet man around Chicago way/He had a boogie style that no one else could play’ …You’re so good! Okay, rinse out your mouth!”

Rob bent over, grabbed a paper cup and rinsed his mouth. He watched the blood going down the drain. He had hardly felt anything. “There! That wasn’t so hard, was it? ” Dr. Pearlstein asked. “I’m gonna do the filling now! You know, your father did some amazing, heroic things! Like the time he ran into the battlefield and carried the wounded lieutenant on his back to safety! They were gonna give him a medal for that, but, you know how it is!”

Rob had never heard that story before. Then again, his father rarely talked about his past. “Did you know my father’s brother?” he asked the dentist.

“Sure I knew him!” Dr. Pearlstein answered. “I remember when he left for Palestine in ‘47! He was promoted to major in the Haganah, the first major in the new Jewish army, and the next day, he gets killed in the fighting in Jerusalem. And he didn’t even have to be there–they wanted him in intelligence, but he had to be on the front lines. What are you gonna do?”

Rob was going to ask another question when….

“Okay, we’re gonna put in the filling material next. Here it comes! Stay still! I’m not lazy! Moon over Miami/Shine on as we begin/A dream or two that may come true/As the tide comes in…….’ Okay, just a little bit more. Just stay still. You’re the best! … Bor’chu es adonai hamvoroch/Boruch atoh adonoi hamvoroch leolom voed/Boruch atoh adonoi/Eloheynoo melech ha’olam... OK, we’re done here, kid!”

“I heard you singing that Hebrew brocho, ” Rob said, referring to the blessing over the Torah that Dr. Pearlstein had just intoned. “Wouldn’t those Hasidim I saw in the waiting room object if you sang that when they were here?”

“Fuhgedaboutit!” Dr. Pearlstein responded, cheery as ever. “Don’t worry about them. They got nothin’ to say! OK, see you next time?”

“What should I pay?”

“Don’t pay anything! ’Cause you’re a relative, I’ll fix the insurance form so the price will be very high, so what they give me will cover what you should pay!”

“You don’t have a secretary?”

“Naah! I used to have a secretary, but if I did now, I’d have to charge you guys more! OK, kid! Give my regards to your father…..NEXT!!!”

The Brooklyn Work Group--What's Missing

By Raanan Geberer Originally published in Brooklyn Daliy Eagle BROOKLYN — The recent report by the Brooklyn Work Group of the New York State Department of Health’s Medicaid Redesign Team was in the news recently. Many people were relieved that the team didn’t recommend any hospital closings, although it did recommend the consolidation of several hospitals that are in dire financial straits. Lost in the particulars of the report, however, was the actual makeup of this Brooklyn Work Group. It was chaired by Stephen Berger, chairman of Odyssey Investment Partners, “a New York investment firm that specializes in private corporation transactions.” Berger also chaired the New York State Commission on Health Care Facilities in the 21st Century in 2005-06, a commission that was criticized by many as the “hospital closing commission.” It closed nine hospitals statewide, including Victory Memorial in Brooklyn, Parkway in Queens and Cabrini in Manhattan. As for the other four members, they are all healthcare and government executives. Ramon Jesus Rodriguez has served as CEO of two HMOs; Elizabeth Swain is the CEO of the Community Health Care Association of New York State; William Toby is a longtime federal health administrator, and Anthony Webb has served as the commissioner of several state agencies. What’s missing here? What’s missing is any input from the health professions or the local communities. This is a commission that deals with hospitals, after all. One would think that some physicians who chair medical departments at local hospitals and/or act as professors of medicine would be represented. Nurses, who work with patients on a day-to-day basis, should also be represented, as should the healthcare unions. And what about public officials and leaders of civic organizations? These people are represented in almost every other temporary government task force that I’ve ever heard of. For example, would a task force on the Gowanus Expressway or the Second Avenue Subway be made up of only transportation engineers? I doubt it — it would also include representatives of nearby communities. Finally, since this report involves public funds dispensed by the state to local hospitals, shouldn’t the state legislature also have a say? In this case, however, the Brooklyn Work Group is only made up of financial and high-level managerial professionals, all of them with strong ties to the highest levels of what Jack Newfield once called “the permanent government” and “Occupy Wall Street” protesters more recently called “the One Percent.” It’s very likely that the one of the main objectives of the study is not to improve healthcare delivery and health services, but to protect the interests of the state’s business and government elites. At times these objectives may coincide. Increasingly nowadays, unfortunately, they do not. For the majority of people in a district to have no say in whether services in their local hospital are expanded, cut back or ended is not compatible with true democracy. * * *

Time for a Jewish `Guardian Angels'

by Raanan Geberer From Brooklyn Daily Eagle BROOKLYN — Back in the late 1960s, as thousands upon thousands of Jews were moving to the suburbs or into co-op apartments and private houses in “newer” neighborhoods, most of those who were left behind in older Jewish neighborhoods, such as East Flatbush and Brownsville, were elderly. Often, these isolated, elderly Jewish men and women were repeatedly attacked and robbed by young thugs and gang members. At that time, a Brooklyn-born rabbi named Rabbi Meir Kahane (although, as it turned out, he was known by several other names) had the idea for an organization known as the Jewish Defense League that would patrol these “changing neighborhoods,” protect these elderly Jews and learn self defense. Unfortunately, Kahane soon linked his Jewish advocacy with a specific, ultra-religious, right-wing philosophy. Among other things, Kahane maintained that Orthodoxy was the only denomination of Judaism worth anyone’s respect; that the only real solution for anti-Semitism was for all Jews to move to Israel and that those who weren’t were basically sitting ducks; and that Israel should be governed by a theocracy and expel all Arabs within its midst. Based on these ideas, which were at variance with those of the majority of American Jews, it’s no surprise that the Jewish Defense League became a magnet for extremists and unstable personalities of all types. It eventually faded away. The recent anti-Semitic attacks in Midwood, however, in which cars in a Jewish area were set afire and benches and builders were defaced with swastikas and “KKK” graffiti, tell me that something like the original Jewish Defense League concept is needed. The difference is, however, that this should be a REAL “Jewish Defense League” without Kahane’s extremism. It should include Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, unaffiliated and atheists; Zionists and non-Zionists, those for whom Judaism is a central function of their lives and Jews who haven’t set foot in a synagogue in five years, Democrats and Republicans. The sole criteria would be a desire to fight virulent, violent anti-Semitism. No one with a felony record would be admitted. This group would learn karate and judo and patrol areas that are at risk. Their main priority would be to inform the police about any incidents and to hand any perps they find “in the act” over to the cops. However, they should be willing to use martial-arts techniques if necessary. Maybe what I’m thinking of is more like the early Guardian Angels than anything else. At any rate, these are my ideas, and I hope someone will carry them out.

A food autobiography--Part one

My first entry concerns the lowly knish. At the local delis when I was growing up, you did see the proletarian square potato knish that was also sold from hot-dog carts, but you also had meat knishes and kasha knishes. And once you had one of those, you knew that you were through with the square potato knish forever. Later, in the 1970s and ‘80s, you began to see a great variety of knishes in the city – cheese knishes, pineapple cheese knishes, cherry cheese knishes, spinach knishes, sweet potato knishes – and I loved them all. Many of these originated with the famous Mrs. Stahl’s Knishes in Brighton Beach but could also be found elsewhere – even at a “Coney Island Knishes” eatery in Penn Station. Well, food fads come and go, and today it’s once again hard to find knishes except for the square kind, although I recently found a spinach knish and a kasha knish at Murray’s Bagels on Eighth Avenue in Chelsea. Hopefully, knishes, in all their glory and variety, will become popular again someday!

An All-Digital World: A Fool's Paradise?

By Raanan Geberer Brooklyn Daily Eagle In the beginning, there was the LP, or long-playing record. You also had the lower-budget cassette. This was replaced in the late 1980s and early 1990s by the digital CD. Now, according to some recent reports, the CD is being phased out with the assumption that anyone who wants music will do it through online downloading services like iTunes and Amazon. Indeed, within the past decade the unthinkable happened: Virgin Records and Tower Records, both powerhouses in their day, both hit the dust. Devices like the Kindle are also all the rage, and in January, news reports indicated that sales of Kindle books have outpaced those of hardcovers (apparently, paperback books are still convenient enough to carry around). With Kindle, of course, you also download the books over the internet. And e-mail replacing written letters is an old story. So few people write actual letters, aside from New Year’s cards and such, that your mail is now likely to consist mainly of advertisements. No wonder the Postal Service is considering ending Saturday service. But before your clap you hands in delight and say, “How neat! Far out!” (or whatever exclamation that people say nowadays), consider this. After 9/11 there were thousands of government subpoenas for e-mail records and/or phone records, and in very many of these cases, the requests were granted. The government last year lost a court case about a request to access e-mails without a search warrant, but the issue hasn’t gone away. What happens if or when, in the distant or not-so-distant future, a totalitarian dictatorship comes to power in the United States and declares martial law? Then all of you hip, with-it, digital people will find that the government will know who you write to, what you write, what you buy online, what books you read, what you listen to. Already, many employers are spying on people’s ostensibly private Facebook accounts to find out more about prospective employees. I don’t pretend to have the answer, but maybe an all-digital, all-online world is a fool’s paradise.

Class Conflict

By Raanan Geberer “Where too,” asked the heavy-set, plaid shirt-wearing, fifty-ish cab driver. “The Accord Conference Center,” we answered. Like many New Yorkers, we didn’t own a car. This time we decided to try to save some money by not renting a car. Instead, we took the bus up to New Paltz, then called a cab. “Yep,” the driver said, “two people came up here today.” As we turned onto a mountain road, I asked, politely as I could, “What other kind of work do you do?” I couldn’t imagine that there were full-time jobs for cab drivers in a town where everybody drove. “Driving my cab is it for me,” the guy said, laughing. “But is there enough business for a cab company here?” He pointed to a roadhouse coming up on the left side of the road. “You see that bar?” he asked. “Plenty of guys go there on Saturday night, get drunk, then call me or one of the other guys to drive them home. Then, the next morning, they get sober, they call us to drive them back there to get their cars. We make lots of money that way!” “Is that the only bar in town?” my wife asked. “The only one around here, that is,” he said, passing a fishing equipment and guns store. “And tonight, they’re gonna have a band, so it’s really gonna be busy!” I didn’t even have to ask—I knew it would be a country and western band. “By the way,” the guy asked, “do you mind if I smoke?” “That’s OK,” my wife answered. He guy lit a cigarette. “Yep, I’ve done everything—I didn’t have the education a lot of you city people have. I’ve worked construction, drove a school bus, been a salesman selling stuff from the trunk of my car, now a cab driver. So we’ll see how long that lasts. Yep, since I’ve been divorced I moved around all over the country. Find a few rooms above a store, buy a few sticks of used furniture and it’s home!” Trying to change the subject, I asked, “I heard about the stock-car races around here. Isn’t it true that the chief of police himself takes part in the race?” “Yeah, he races every year! He’s got a great car, too … Here we are! Let me help you get your bags out.” • * After three days, we headed back to the city. The same guy drove me back. In New Paltz, we got onto a shiny new Trailways bus. Little by little, I began hearing a conversation behind me. I turned around and sneaked a look. An extremely well-dressed older man and woman were talking. Both of them spoke in the precise, well-modulated tones of Ivy League graduates. “Yes,” the woman said, “this is an experiment that turned out well. It saves us some driving, for a change, and the bus is very pleasant and roomy.” Something about them interested me. They didn’t seem like typical bus riders. He continued to listen. “Where do you plan to go after we get off? I was thinking of a little place in the Village….” “I don’t like Greenwich Village. There’s a wonderful little place in the East 80s where we can go, it’s a marvelous French brasserie. Their Salade Nicoise is to die for!” “What about the food I’m carrying in this container?” “We can have it tomorrow.” “Such wonderful food I made. Beet-flavored pasta with goat cheese, fennel and peppercorns in truffle oil!” “So, Angela, I’m curious about your deal.” “It’s terrible that it fell through – a wonderful country house, a smaller house behind it and a large amount of land. And, you know, it was a million-dollar deal.” “You know,” the man said, “the thing to do is to buy some property, rent it out, then use the proceeds to buy more property. That’s what my son did in the south of Spain. He bought a condo, rented it out to tourists, then used the proceeds to buy another one. He owns five condos now.” “Is that your son who went to Princeton?” “No, that’s the other one. This is my son who went to Yale.” I contrasted their conversation with what I heard from the cab driver who drove me from the bus station to the conference center last week. Here was living proof that there were at least three Americas – the upper-crust world of this couple, our middle-class existence, and the world of marginal people like the cabbie. The only way he would ever meet these two is if he was working as a handyman in their house. I looked out the window and fell asleep. My wife jabbed me gently to wake me when we reached the Port Authority bus terminal. People were standing up, getting their bags. And then, through the din, I heard a loud shriek: “Oh, dear! I must have put the lid on too loose! This is a catastrophe!” And there, on the floor, were the remnants of some beet-flavored pasta with goat cheese, fennel and fresh herbs in truffle oil. Carefully stepping over it, we moved on.

Wal's Not Well That Ends Well

By Raanan Geberer Published in Brooklyn Daily Eagle 10/28/11 BROOKLYN — Included in the recent New York Times story about Borough President Marty Markowitz’s recruiting large businesses to contribute to his charities (not a bad idea as such, I believe, since the charities do good work and the city gives the Borough President’s Office so little money) was an item about Walmart. The article pointed out that Markowitz had once made statements opposing Walmart’s coming to Brooklyn based on its labor record. But after Walmart gave a donation to the Markowitz-sponsored charity that puts on his free summer concerts, according to both the Times and an earlier article in the Post, Markowitz said he was “not philosophically opposed” to Walmart, although he said he would continue to demand that the huge retail chain pay fair wages and health benefits and use union workers on any construction job. He also was quoted as saying that “you can’t keep Walmart out of Brooklyn.” This is entirely correct. Walmart is a private entity, and if another private company, the owner of the planned Gateway II Mall in East New York (the most-mentioned site for a possible Brooklyn Walmart) wants to rent to the store, it has every right to do so. However, people like myself also have every right to object to such a deal. Not only has Walmart not softened its harsh behavior toward its employees, it has only gotten worse. Recently the huge retail chain announced that it would severely scale back the health benefits it pays to its employees, ending benefits for part-time workers and cutting the amount it contributes to workers’ health savings accounts. The company only started to offer health benefits to part-time workers after constant criticisms that it deliberately kept “associates” working on a part-time basis just to avoid paying these benefits. Cutbacks in benefits may be appropriate for a company that is suffering huge losses and is on the verge of collapse. But, according to Forbes, the chain posted a reported a 5.7 percent increase in second-quarter earnings this year. Not as well publicized, but as important, as Walmart’s behavior toward its employees is its behavior toward smaller businesses and its suppliers. The company often demands that its suppliers accept extremely low prices for their products, and the companies have no choice, given that Walmart makes up such a large part of their market. The Fast Company website points out how Walmart caused substantial hardship to Vlasic Pickles by selling its jars of pickles at such low prices that Vlasic was practically taking a loss. As a result, the pickle maker had to lay off employees. Yes, Walmart has every right to come to Brooklyn, but the city’s citizens and officials also have every right to oppose it.

Hasidic Buses: What Is Critics' Real Motive?

First published in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Oct. 25, 2011 BROOKLYN – Earlier this week, the media discovered that a private bus line (although one with a public franchise) between Hasidic Williamsburg and Hasidic Borough Park maintains separate seating for men and women, with women relegated to the back of the bus. To those who are familiar with the Hasidim and the ultra-Orthodox (as opposed to those who consider themselves "modern Orthodox"), this is no surprise. According to the halachic (traditional rabbinic) interpretation of the Torah, men and women must remain separate for two weeks out of the month because a woman is considered "unclean" during her period. This often is reflected in actions that would be considered extreme by the outside world. For example, in many Hasidic communities a woman who is having her period cannot sit in the same car seat as her husband. She can’t even pass a salt shaker to her husband at this "time of the month" – she must put it down on the table, and then he takes it. One of the reasons for separation between men and women in the public sphere, such as on this bus, is that a man might inadvertently come into contact with a woman who is having her period. The other is that any contact between men and their wives or close female relatives is considered a temptation and an invitation to adultery. This is reflected, for example, in the long dresses and long-sleeved blouses that Hasidic women must wear – this is called snius (modesty). Many ultra-Orthodox (or "black-hat Orthodox") and Hasidim won’t even listen to a women’s voice singing lest it arouse passions – the term for this is kol isha ("the voice of the woman"). Personally, my interpretation of Judaism is much, much more liberal than that of the ultra-Orthodox, and I more or less agree with Mayor Bloomberg that because the bus has a public franchise, its operators should follow city law and let men and women sit together. However, the reaction from the non-Jewish world (and some Jews) on the blogosphere is somewhat disconcerting. Like the controversy over circumcision in California, many people who just don’t like Jews, hate Israel or hate religion in general have seized on this issue like a dog seizes a bone. They say, more or less, "See, how primitive Judaism, and religion in general, are! These primitive people shouldn’t be subsidized. Indeed, no one can be an intelligent person unless they reject religion and nationality!" The trouble is, however, that you don’t hear much of those arguments about Islam (women sit separately in the mosques, and the religion has rather prescribed roles for women), the Amish (in whose churches women also sit separately) or any number of other religious sects that have similar beliefs. No, it is only Jews who are asked to give up their beliefs or customs in the name of "universalism." I myself belong to an egalitarian congregation with a female cantor, and I would be thrilled to death of a group of Hasidic women started a movement to give them more equality in religious life. I would support it wholeheartedly. But this movement has to come from within – not from what they perceive as a hostile world. So, maybe it’s time to stop being so self-righteous about the Hasidim and their buses. Multiculturalism is for Jews, too!

Let's Vigorously Enforce the Anti-Trust Laws!

By Raanan Geberer Brooklyn Daily Eagle Oct. 18, 2011 BROOKLYN — Despite some of the rhetoric one hears, it’s not necessary to totally overthrow the status quo to effect some of the changes the “Occupy Wall Street” movement wants. One good step in the right direction would be to vigorously enforce the anti-trust laws. Anti-trust legislation came into being in the 1890s after the efforts of magnates like John D. Rockefeller of Standard Oil to crush competition, often by extra-legal means like burning down competitors’ oil wells, and to establish monopolies or near-monopolies. The net result was that economic power was concentrated in an extremely small number of companies — just like today. Often, the public was forced to endure high prices for commodities because there were few other places to go. During that decade and up until the beginning of World War I, the government, under leaders like Republican President Theodore Roosevelt, vigorously initiated one action after another against such giant corporations as Standard Oil, J.P. Morgan’s National Security Company and James Duke’s tobacco trust. Afterward, especially during the prosperity of the 1950s and ‘60s and after the Reagan “revolution,” anti-trust legislation took a back seat. Conservative economists like Alan Greenspan and Milton Friedman argued that anti-trust legislation was harmful to business because it stifled potential innovations and improvements. The last major anti-trust prosecution, that of Microsoft, was defeated on technicalities. But the problems that led to Teddy Roosevelt’s vigorous prosecution of the entities he called trusts still remain. Free competition still exists at the Main Street, mom-and-pop level. For example, if a bakery store exists in a small town like New Paltz, and another one opens three blocks away, the two will compete honestly. But at the higher levels of society, it’s a different story. For example, how many people know that food companies often actually pay for shelf space in supermarkets? (And I know this because I once worked for a supermarket trade publication.) Thus, the public will never know many products that it could come to embrace because the smaller companies that produce them won’t have the ability to pay that the food giants do. Also, there are many allegations, such as those from the New America Foundation, that Walmart, the nation’s largest retail chain, often makes its suppliers suffer by insisting that its suppliers accept low prices. When Walmart (and for all I know, some other giant retail chains as well) demands this, the supplier has to accept these prices because the chain buys such a large amount of its products. This can then lead to layoffs and plant closings because the supplier has a harder time staying in business. Does trust-busting actually deprive the public of innovative products? I say it’s the opposite. Let’s look at the Tucker car. The Tucker car, which came on the market briefly in 1948, was one of the most innovative vehicles ever produced. But after pressure from the Big Three (according to Jeff Bridges’ Tucker: The Man and His Dream), bought-off officials from Michigan began a regulatory campaign against the small company. Eventually, Tucker was exonarated, but by that time the company was out of business. Also, look at the credit card industry. Credit cards are known for their high interest rates. It would make sense that at least one large company, in order to compete, would lower its interest rates substantially. Why hasn’t this happened? Sounds mighty suspicious to me! Let’s have a new Teddy Roosevelt and a new round of trust-busting!

Zuccotti Park and Participatory Democracy

By Raanan Geberer Originally Publshed in Brooklyn Daily Eagle NEW YORK — The other day, I took a short trip to Zuccotti Park, the headquarters of the “Occupy Wall Street” movement that has so many people up in arms. One of the first things that strikes one is how small the demonstration really is. The area it occupies, if one were to compare it to Brooklyn, is comparable to the area of Cadman Plaza Park north of the War Memorial — not even the entire park. But within the park, there were lots of people, mainly young people. Some were camping, some were giving out material, some were merely curiosity seekers. Being a veteran of many mass demonstrations during the 1970s, one difference is how democratic the current protest is. Major decisions among the group members are resolved by a “general assembly.” In contrast, during the ’70s, decisions were made from the top down by “steering committees.” Also, during the ’60s and ’70s, highly organized, ideological (and I would say elitist) Leninist groups like the Socialist Workers Party and the Progressive Labor Party, who were admirers of totalitarian societies, put all their energy into dominating and manipulating any protest groups that formed spontaneously. Here, in contrast, most of the demonstrators did not have any kind of an “agenda.” Indeed, many of today’s far-left groups, like international A.N.S.W.E.R., were nowhere to be seen at Zuccotti Park (although others, like the Industrial Workers of the World, were there). All the protesters know is that something is wrong with this country, and that the deck is stacked against them. The majority of them are college graduates who have been unable to find jobs or housing. If anything, the gathering was oriented toward what used to be called participatory democracy. One young man whom I spoke to told me that the members didn’t know enough to make any “demands” on the larger society. Rather, he said, the demonstrators would spend their time talking to each other, debating issues and trying to discover any common ground. Only after this would they formulate a platform. It was a true marketplace of ideas, with anyone and everyone represented, from prisoners’ rights groups to a young lady who protested the use of temps as “permanent workers,” but without the benefits. Side by side were a member of the Green Party, some evangelical Christians, a few Hasidim and even a representative of Ron Paul’s presidential campaign. There were some who praised Obama and others who felt that there was no difference between the Democratic and Republican parties. All of them co-existed without the bitter, back-and-forth insults that were typical of the 1960s and ’70s movements. No one called the police “fascist pigs” — instead, they called on the cops to join them. And in the process, many underlying assumptions of American life were questioned, at last. One young man held up a placard saying, “Corporations are not democracies.” When I asked him about yearly shareholders’ meetings, he compared them to the “legislative bodies” of the former Soviet Union, which basically acted as a rubber stamp for high party officials. I had to agree. Another table served as the “people’s library,” where people donated books and others borrowed them. Curiously, one saw few artifacts of the electronic age — smart phones, iPads, etc. What one saw in Zuccotti Park was participatory democracy, the type that Tom Hayden and company wrote about in the Port Huron Statement in 1960. There have been brief times when this type of democracy has flourished — during the Paris Commune in 1871, during the early days of the soviets in Russia before they were compromised by the Bolshevik bureaucrats, during the sit-down strikes in the U.S. during the 1930s, during the brief rule of the anarchists in Barcelona in the 1930s — and, now, in Zuccotti Park.

National Infrastructure bank: An Idea Whose Time Has Come

Published in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Oct. 5, 2011 BROOKLYN — In Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand’s recent telephone press conference, which mainly concerned money for transportation projects in President Obama’s Jobs Bill, she also touched on another important matter. She voiced her support for an unusual concept — a National Infrastructure Bank. The government would identify infrastructure (road, bridge, rail, mass transit, airport) projects that need to get done and contribute seed money. Then, it would recruit private investors to contribute to repairs or new construction. Gillibrand said that she’s often run into businesspeople who want to contribute to such projects, but have no opportunity to do so. The measure was actually introduced in the Senate in 2008, but has been stalled since then. This is extremely important. Businesses or individuals who want to contribute to the operations of, say, Central or Prospect Park have every opportunity to do so. The same goes for the museums and the performing arts. But let’s take myself. I’m a lifelong rail fan. If I suddenly find myself with a large sum of money, and I want to contribute to the repair of the Culver Viaduct, I have no means of doing so. Let’s take another example. The recent flooding of the Ramapo River all but wiped out the Port Jervis line of MetroNorth in Rockland County. If I were a business owner in one of the affected towns who wanted to contribute money to the rebuilding of the line, I would probably have to call about 20 government offices and make about 50 calls before I found the opportunity to do so. So let’s have the National Infrastructure Bank, sooner than later. I dare say that if that bank had existed since the 1930s or so, we would still have the New York, Westchester and Boston railway; the Putnam Line of the New York Central; and the North Shore Line of the Staten Island Railway, because interested parties would have had the opportunity to step up and contribute funds to ensure those lines’ continued operation. Bob Diamond might have completed his Red Hook trolley line, provided that investors came forward to support it. The parks have their support groups, and so do the arts. Now, let’s give road and rail projects a chance!

Give Me Back My Old Username and Password

Originally Published in Brooklyn Daily Eagle

At the dawn of the internet age, around 1996, when I first connected to the web, I was asked on several sites to choose a user name and password.

After some thought, I chose a user name that both my wife and I could use and a six-letter password that was based on one of my wife’s childhood imaginary characters.

This state of affairs made me very happy. The names were simple and easily remembered and could be used on many different sites. There was one site that wanted a longer password, but I merely added another imaginary character to the first.

Within the last five years or so, however, I have been given to understand that my old user name and password are no longer “politically correct.” Every time I log onto a new site and set up an account, it seems, I have to choose a password that’s not only 10 or more characters but one that also has some upper-case and some lower-case letters, numbers, and, in at least one case, a figure such as a star or an exclamation point. In other cases, especially financial sites, even after I log on, I have to identify a pre-chosen photo before I get the site.

Almost as odious as this is the fact that half the time, I can’t even choose a user name for myself any more. More and more sites want my email to serve as my user name. That might be simpler for them, but what happens if I change my email address?

I know that these changes are designed to keep me safe, but I think I’m safe enough as it is — few people, for example, would know the names of my wife’s imaginary characters. I long for the days when life was nice and simple. Give me back my old user name and password!

It's Not Enough Being Green

Originally published in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, August 8, 2011

BROOKLYN -- No one in their right mind would say that the environment is not one of the major issues of our time.

Major lakes and rivers in parts of this country are highly polluted (although some cleanup efforts, like that on the Gowanus Canal, have made progress). Air pollution contributes to respiratory diseases, many people have serious concerns about the safety of gas drilling in upstate New York, and the supply of fossil fuel is running out. We seriously need to develop renewable energy and to recycle our garbage more effectively.

However, there are some people who focus only on the environment as the big issue of our time. The environment, of course, is only one of several big issues – there’s education, the economy, foreign conflicts, labor conflicts, housing. And those are just a few.

The unfortunate truth is that the “powers that be,” for decades, have promoted environmentalism as a “safe” outlet for youthful idealism, for young people’s desire for social change. And many of these young people, and not-so-young people, are enraptured with environmentalism on the surface, but fail to make connections, to see the environment in context.

They fail to examine why so many American corporations and foreign governments like Russia and China have engaged in massive pollution, and without adequate controls may continue to do so in the future.

At its extreme, this sort of narrow vision has led to widespread acceptance of a situation where the mayor of New York City proposes to build bike lanes on every other street and all sorts of “green” traffic islands, but almost in the same breath threatens to cut the jobs of 6,000 teachers and to close almost 100 senior centers.

Most misled are those people who are under the delusion that they’re changing the world because they’re growing a garden on the roof or buying organic apples rather than “regular” apples. I, given the choice in a grocery or produce store, would probably buy the organic apples, but it’s mainly because, in the long run, this will contribute to my personal health. I have no illusions that I am impacting the wider society in a major way by doing so.

If every single person in the city started to buy organic apples and broccoli tomorrow, the stock market would still be in serious trouble, the good credit rating of the United States would still be in doubt, unemployment would still be high, and wars would still be going on in at least a dozen countries in the world. That’s something to think about.

Food for Thought

In the spring of 1982, life as a reporter at the Tri-State Food Retailer, a small, independent trade magazine, had grown progressively weirder for Rob.
Not that the Tri-State Food Retailer wasn’t weird to begin with. It was run like a prison camp; people were discouraged from talking to each other unless their conversation was related to the job. The Zuckermans, father and son, who owned the company ran around the place scowling and peeking over the employees’ shoulders; and only white shirts were allowed. There were no birthday parties, no Christmas parties. You didn’t get any medical benefits until you were there for a year, and every few weeks, someone else was fired. When Rob got the job, he’d hoped to move out of his parents’ house and get his own place again, but on the pitiful salary he received here, it was impossible.
Rob’s misanthropic father usually assumed Rob was to blame for anything that happened to him, but this case was so extreme that Dad was forced to concede that the fault lay elsewhere. "Whoever heard of a job like that!" he screamed. "Why don’t you quit? I’ll support you until you find another one!"
It looked like his father might not have to worry. Bobby, one of the advertising salespeople, confided, "I think you’re a good kid. I’d keep you around all the time. But I’m not really sure what the Zuckermans think ...."
"But Paul just moved me from here," said Rob, indicating the seat near the door, "to there," the seat nearest the editor, Paul Walsh, thought to a sign of moving up within the tiny organization.
"Well," Bobby said, "in the past six months, I’ve seen five people move from here to there, and most of them were fired anyway!"
The following day, Walsh, a tall, bearded man with a lisp whose major claim to fame was having worked for the National Enquirer a few years ago, closed the door.
"Rob," he said, "I have bad news for you."
Maybe it’s not so bad, Rob thought. Maybe it’s merely that he promoted Marlene, the other reporter, to assistant editor over me. But the next minute, he heard Paul say, "I’m firing you."
Rob asked why. Paul replied that Rob had bought two cameras, one a backup, to a supermarket opening in the Bronx because he was uncomfortable with the new camera, showing that he was unsure of himself; that he had let errors slip by in the proofreading process (although Rob had never claimed to be a proofreader); that Rob had misplaced papers on his desk, although he subsequently found them; and above all, Rob had mentioned, in conversation, the Supermarkets Association, which the Zuckermans hated so much that they didn’t want to hear the name mentioned.
"In a way, it’s too bad, because you’re a good writer!" John continued. "But you have a problem – disorganization! And in this organization, you either have to move up or move out! I’ll recommend you for a job, but it has to be as a writer, not an editor. You’re better off in a large organization, like Fairchild Publications, where they can give you assignments and tell you, `Do this,’ `Do that’.."
"But why didn’t you tell me before?"
"Rob, you’re an adult! You’re twenty-nine years old! What should I tell you? `Get organized’?"
At that point, Rob walked into the other room and into the office of Ray, the younger Zuckerman. With nothing to lose, he told him all his dissatisfaction with the magazine: the lack of friendliness, the mandatory white shirts, the fact that the bosses looked over people’s shoulders, the lack of benefits.
"Well," Ray replied, "I’m sorry, but I trust John’s judgment in these matters. As far as the other things you said are concerned, we are what we are!"
As Rob was walking out, he ran into Ellie, the jovial, middle-aged secretary, by the elevator. When he told her what happened, Ellie replied, "Don’t worry about it. They do that to everybody. What’s the problem—that you made mistakes? Paul’s made plenty of mistakes! He’s gotten people’s names wrong, the whole bit! He once left two hundred-dollar ads at home and forgot to take them to the printing plant, and that cost the company more than a thousand dollars!"
Disappointed but relieved, Rob walked out the building and into the crowded streets of Midtown Manhattan, with their overpriced restaurants, their soul-less, glass-and-steel office buildings, their tourist-trap camera stores. He saw the overstuffed executives in their $500 suits, the vapid secretaries with their dreams of soap operas and romance novels, the overworked delivery men with their hand trucks, all hurrying, rushing somewhere. The only places of any interest to Rob for miles around were Grand Central Station, the Chrysler Building and the 42nd Street Library – he certainly wouldn’t miss working here!
Walking uptown, Rob pondered his future. Thank God he’d be able to get unemployment insurance. If worse came to worse, and he wasn’t able to get another journalism job within six months or so, he could go back to his old management job at the city Housing Authority. Unlike Paul Walsh, Mr. Katz at Housing thought that Rob had done a wonderful job, and promised to bend the regulations so that Rob could return if he ever wanted. Rob, a journalism graduate, had left the Housing Authority for a one-year job on a weekly paper in Ohio to gain newspaper experience, but he was grateful that he still had friends at Housing. He only wished that when he’d left the Authority and temporarily moved out west, he’d had enough time to sublet his old studio apartment, his lost Arcadia. Now he was stuck with his parents again. But it could be worse–what if he’d found a new apartment, only to not be able to pay for it when the Food Retailer fired him?
Walking his usual route, toward the Co-Op City express bus that would take him home to his parents’ house, Rob suddenly felt in the mood for a diversion, for relaxation. He was in no hurry, especially now, with his newfound freedom. He’d take the subway up to Allerton Avenue, the Bronx neighborhood where a particular crowd he’d met in high school used to live, and walk around a little for the sake of nostalgia. Then he’d take another bus back home.
Allerton Avenue was the same as it had been back in the days when Dave, Jeff, Vinnie, Mary and the whole gang had ruled the roost at the pizzeria or the aptly-nicknamed "sleazy bar," although none of those people had lived there for at least five years. There was the Italian bakery, there was the Jewish deli, there was the Woolworth’s. Up the block, the tiny movie theater was still there, hanging on despite the steady march of multiplexes that seemed to be opening everywhere.
Rob went into Joe’s old-fashioned candy store, spun around on the stool, then ordered an egg cream. Next to him was a young Hispanic guy reading a copy of the Daily News. Rob reached a copy of Newsday and perused the magazines and newspapers on the rack.
"Crain’s Chicago Business?" he asked, amused.
"It’s funny, but there’s two guys who buy it every week, like clockwork!" Joe said, pouring the milk and syrup into the seltzer.
Soon, a casually-dressed black guy in his thirties came in and started to talk to no one in particular. "Man, I’m glad I got a day off from work today," he said. "I can spend all my day with my writing! Sometimes I just write for hours!"
The Hispanic guy turned around and faced him. "What sort of writing do you do?"
The black guy’s face lit up. "I do songwriting, man! I write songs!"
"Really! I write songs, too! I’ve written about 100 songs, I’ve given them to at least 20 artists, I even gave one to Luther Vandross’ company, but no luck yet! What’s your name?"
"Mine’s Norman."
"Mine’s Manuel. Maybe we can do some business, man. Here, here’s my phone number."
Watching these two guys, Rob reflected that the real life wasn’t in Midtown Manhattan, it was in neighborhoods like this one, all over New York City. This is where the sense of community was, not back there, where the people totally forgot about their co-workers aside once they left their offices. This is where the real people were, people who meant what they said, not people who were planning to fire you for weeks but didn’t tell you until the last minute.
Satisfied, Rob paid for his egg cream, left the store, then waited for the bus to take him home.

Unrest in Arab World Could Lead to Mideast Peace

By Raanan Geberer
Originally Published in Brooklyn Daily Eagle

BROOKLYN — By now, everybody knows about the revolutions sweeping the Arab world, not only in Egypt, Libya, Tunisia and Syria, but in nations that most people weren’t even aware of, like Bahrain.

Everyone also knows that the Arab-Israeli conflict is one of the most burning issues in the Middle East. If it’s not the Number One problem — that “honor” probably belongs to the tension between Iran and the Arab world — it’s certainly in the top three.

Some people in the West, mainly hard-core conservatives, fear this revolutionary development and are certain that takeover by the Muslim Brotherhood is right around the corner. Maybe it is in, but maybe more democracy is around the corner instead. We’ll have to wait and see.

If the Arab regimes are transformed, at least partially, into genuine democracies, this could definitely help efforts to find a solution to the Arab-Israeli conflict.

For years, Arab regimes and their controlled media have been emphasizing hatred of Israel 24 hours a day. Viewers of state TV stations are exposed to hysterical tirades about Israel and the Palestinians that often crosses the line into anti-Semitism. Israel is characterized as being propped only by the United States, and as an entity that is certain to fall on the “day of revenge.” The Arab leaders do this in order to take their people’s minds off the real problems in their countries. And more than 60 years after the establishment of Israel, Palestinian refugees, depending on the particular country, often are given very little or no rights from their “brother Arabs” and still are forced to live in squalid “refugee camps.”

I’m not saying that Israel is blameless. Certainly, Israel frequently violates international law and flouts U.N. resolutions by permitting settlement activity in the West Bank, by imprisoning Palestinian suspects for months without charging them, and by its continued blockade of Gaza. Israeli soldiers harass Palestinians at checkpoints on a regular basis. Even within Israel, Arab villages offer much fewer essential services than Israeli towns.

Even so, if democracy in the Arab world comes to pass, a free discussion of the issues can only help the situation. Arab leaders may come forward with their own peace initiatives rather than cynically calculating that they have more to win from peace than from a no-war, no-peace situation.

And even if Israeli leaders typically respond with their own hard-line tactics, the Israeli public may finally start questioning certain outdated assumptions that are at the heart of Israeli culture (“The Arabs respect only strength,” The non-Jewish world hates us no matter what we do”) and become more open toward peace.

For those who are sincerely interested in Arab-Israeli peace, Arab democracy can only be seen as a step forward.

Does Obama Have a Double Standard

By Raanan Geberer
Originally published in Brooklyn Daily Eagle

Recently, when the people of Egypt, Bahrain, Tunisia and finally Libya simultaneously revolted against dictatorial rules, no one was more vociferous in his praise of these popular revolutions than President Obama.

After a brief silence of a few days when a successful revolt against Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak broke out, Obama made statements that there is no doubt that the people demand change, and that we were at a historic moment. He later hailed Mubarak’s decision to resign.

In the case of Libya, perhaps because Libya was never an ally of the United States, Obama was even more forthright. He first made statements demanding that dictator Moamar Khadafi stop the violence against his own people, and soon demanded that Khadafi step down in favor of rumors yet to be determined.

But if you look much closer to home, you’ll see a situation where Obama has suddenly become timid. Starting in Wisconsin and then spreading to Ohio and Indiana, public employees, including teachers, firefighters and others, and their supporters in state legislators are leading huge protests and sit-ins against right-wing Republican governors’ efforts to take away collective bargaining rights from public-employee unions.

Many observers believe that this is just the first salvo in an effort to de-legitimize public-sector unions in general, and possibly, eventually to destroy the union movement in the private sector, or what remains of it, as well.

Since the 1930s, the union movement has been one of the greatest supporters of the Democratic Party. But what does Obama say about the situation in Wisconsin? Almost nothing! The most he’s said is that he’s "troubled” by the fact that the governor of Wisconsin is “making it hard for unions to collectively bargain.” That’s the equivalent of scolding someone for jaywalking across the street.

Contrast this statement with the strong statements on issues of all sorts made by Presidents Roosevelt, Truman and Johnson, and we see why the Democratic Party is so ineffectual nowadays.

In the face of a Republican opposition that holds in contempt not only Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal but even many of the Progressive-era reforms of Theodore Roosevelt, the Democratic Party needs stronger leadership, one that doesn’t hesitate to defend its power base.

It’s time to run a primary candidate against Obama, even if that candidate can’t win, just to wake Obama up. We don’t need another Jimmy Carter—we need another William Jennings Bryan.

Academic Freedom for High School Teachers

Originally published in Brooklyn Daily Eagle

From time to time, a controversy erupts at some major university as the school attempts to discipline something a professor said, whereupon the professor comes back that he’s being denied his “academic freedom.”

The latest example of this took place at Brooklyn College, where a graduate student who was teaching a political science course as an adjunct was removed from teaching because he allegedly didn’t have the proper qualifications. The adjunct came back and charged that he was being removed because of his pro-Palestinian political views, and said his academic freedom was being violated.

Regardless of how someone might feel about particular controversies, the overall concept of academic freedom for college professors is accepted.

But if academic freedom is OK for professors, why not for high school teachers?

I can almost hear the objects to this now: “High school students are still minors!” Technically, they are. But consider this: the age of the average high school student is, say, 16. The age of the average college student (other than adults who are returning to school after many years) is about 20.

Is there that much difference between a person of 16 and one who is 20 years old, particularly in today’s technological climate, where so much information is available to people at an early age?

Think back. When you were 16 or 17 years old, did you think of yourself as a child? You can be sure that the majority, if not all, of today’s 16- and 17-year-olds don’t, either. The law and the school system should recognize that fact.

Another objection that is sure to be heard is that by state law, high school classes have to reflect a certain syllabus. Obviously, students must know the difference between George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, between an isosceles and a right triangle, between William Shakespeare and Charles Dickens. But why not make the curriculum a little looser, leaving more room for the teachers to express their creativity and impart some of their own special knowledge?

Thinking back to my high school years in the late ’60s and early ’70s, much of what some of my favorite teachers did — express their political opinions, tell humorous anecdotes about their own lives, make occasional risque jokes — would be considered a problem today. Everyone in the school knew who the liberal teachers were, who the conservative teachers were. No one minded. Kids liked teachers who were charismatic and entertaining, whether they agreed with their opinions or not. And these were the very teachers who inspired kids to study and get high grades. Let’s bring those days back again.

Let Teachers Have a Say in Hiring Their Principals

Originally Published in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, feb. 2011

Every once in awhile, there are reports of principals ruining schools by harassing teachers, trying to fire them on flimsy grounds, looting the budget for their own personal reasons, etc. The teachers, and often the parents, complain about the principals, yet can do nothing.

This calls into question the way we hire principals. As I understand, principal candidates must be certified, then appear before school districts, who then make the choice.

But if the teachers will be the ones who deal with principals on a day-to-day basis, why should they have no voice in the hiring process?

In today’s America, people talk constantly about democracy, but democracy really functions only in a very narrow sphere. In the workplace, whether public or private, things operate in a top-down manner no different than those found in any foreign dictatorship.

Instead of having a few administrators select the principals, why not have the Department of Education, which certifies supervisors, provide a list of qualified candidates to the schools themselves? Then, a committee of teachers would interview the principal candidates and make their selection on real criteria — what it would be like to deal with that principal on a day-to-day basis.

While the teachers’ opinions wouldn’t be the only ones counted, they still would be an important part in the selection process.

Then the students would get a real lesson in democracy, not just from the pages of a book.