Tuesday, June 29, 2004
It started this morning. Emerging from the bowels of Boston's subway system I saw a little old man dressed entirely in white with huge black-rimmed glasses. He looked perplexed. Then across the street I saw an unfathomably skinny man dressed all in black. And I was dressed today in gray.
The constituent whom I had never met and only spoken to by phone came by my office unannounced this afternoon. Meeting her made me realize that it is a whole lot easier being a liberal over the phone than in person. On the phone you can imagine the person the epitome of your constituent ideal. In my mind Karen was a small thin woman in her late forties. Smart albeit scattered. A person who had been dealt a deck of a whole-lot-of-bad-luck that I wanted to help make right.
For the last two months, I have been trying to help Karen avoid homelessness. Homelessness is a state that you don't want to be in the Commonwealth. There are two to four-year waiting lists for sub-standard 'affordable' housing. Below that are the shelters that make you want to vomit. Karen, my constituent, sat across from me trying to explain the altercation she had just had with her landlady who was now pressing assault charges. "I didn't hit her," she explained. "I would never do that. I did that once when I was drunk in college and really messed a girl up. No, I just pushed her because she was yelling in my face."
"You are your own worst enemy," I thought. You are what make people become Republicans.
Two hundred-and-fifty pounds sat before me on the couch exuding the singular smell of an almost-fifty-something individual who eats poorly, drinks plenty, and smokes incessantly. She had fake teeth no doubt paid for by Massachusetts’s 'MA-Health' program. She wants the Housing Authority to find her housing. She wants a continuation of her health care benefits she stands to lose because her soon-to-be ex-husband earns too much. She wants City X to pay her re-location expenses related to issues too complex and rambling to convey here. She wants to sue the city related to issues also too complex and rambling to convey here. She basically wants everybody else to pay for the very poor life decisions she has chosen thus far.
I wanted this rancid wreck of a body out of my office and although I have said unkind things about my colleague in the past, I am sincerely indebted to him for bailing me out today. "Anna don't forget about that 5 p.m. meeting you're supposed to go to upstairs..."
My liberal constitution somewhat shaken for the day, I went home and took a long walk with my dog when who should pull up along side me in a car but an almost fifty-something woman... But the antithesis of the other. A glowing smile of natural white teeth framed by high cheek bones and swept-up hair asked me whether I knew where a certain house was alongside the ocean. She had driven down from Newburyport (nice place) to find the house to which she had been invited the next day. She explained that she had been invited on a date; they were to meet at his house before going to a special event at the near-by yacht club. She was clearly in love and clearly giddy. She wanted to make sure she could find her way and so had taken this trial drive the day before. I pointed to the house. On the back of her Saab that sped away was a Kerry for President sticker. "Even if you had met Karen?" I wondered.
OK Mr. Choreographer up there. What Epiphany are we trying to impart?
The constituent whom I had never met and only spoken to by phone came by my office unannounced this afternoon. Meeting her made me realize that it is a whole lot easier being a liberal over the phone than in person. On the phone you can imagine the person the epitome of your constituent ideal. In my mind Karen was a small thin woman in her late forties. Smart albeit scattered. A person who had been dealt a deck of a whole-lot-of-bad-luck that I wanted to help make right.
For the last two months, I have been trying to help Karen avoid homelessness. Homelessness is a state that you don't want to be in the Commonwealth. There are two to four-year waiting lists for sub-standard 'affordable' housing. Below that are the shelters that make you want to vomit. Karen, my constituent, sat across from me trying to explain the altercation she had just had with her landlady who was now pressing assault charges. "I didn't hit her," she explained. "I would never do that. I did that once when I was drunk in college and really messed a girl up. No, I just pushed her because she was yelling in my face."
"You are your own worst enemy," I thought. You are what make people become Republicans.
Two hundred-and-fifty pounds sat before me on the couch exuding the singular smell of an almost-fifty-something individual who eats poorly, drinks plenty, and smokes incessantly. She had fake teeth no doubt paid for by Massachusetts’s 'MA-Health' program. She wants the Housing Authority to find her housing. She wants a continuation of her health care benefits she stands to lose because her soon-to-be ex-husband earns too much. She wants City X to pay her re-location expenses related to issues too complex and rambling to convey here. She wants to sue the city related to issues also too complex and rambling to convey here. She basically wants everybody else to pay for the very poor life decisions she has chosen thus far.
I wanted this rancid wreck of a body out of my office and although I have said unkind things about my colleague in the past, I am sincerely indebted to him for bailing me out today. "Anna don't forget about that 5 p.m. meeting you're supposed to go to upstairs..."
My liberal constitution somewhat shaken for the day, I went home and took a long walk with my dog when who should pull up along side me in a car but an almost fifty-something woman... But the antithesis of the other. A glowing smile of natural white teeth framed by high cheek bones and swept-up hair asked me whether I knew where a certain house was alongside the ocean. She had driven down from Newburyport (nice place) to find the house to which she had been invited the next day. She explained that she had been invited on a date; they were to meet at his house before going to a special event at the near-by yacht club. She was clearly in love and clearly giddy. She wanted to make sure she could find her way and so had taken this trial drive the day before. I pointed to the house. On the back of her Saab that sped away was a Kerry for President sticker. "Even if you had met Karen?" I wondered.
OK Mr. Choreographer up there. What Epiphany are we trying to impart?
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