Hoofing it
Transit strike…One of my friends, a die-hard socialist, says this is the first time he’s not supported a strike – ever. But New York is not a car-friendly town – should one be so foolish as to actually own a car while living in the city, the insurance premiums coupled with the car payments mean you could be paying as much as another whole apartment’s worth of rent.
As a card-carrying member of the pajamuhadeen, it obviously hasn’t affected me that much but the truth is, my cranky level is up – I had planned on last-minute holiday shopping and now I am doomed to what my neighborhood has to offer, or the good graces of FedEx.
But listening to Bloomberg’s address this afternoon – kinda like an episode of Batman, with the mayor on the steps of Gotham City Hall – one had to feel for the shopkeepers in Lower Manhattan, who rely so heavily on retail traffic this time of year and aren’t getting it; one had to feel for the restaurant workers who aren’t getting the tips they normally would; one had to feel for parents whose kids couldn’t go to school. (The kids, of course, were probably not all that upset.) One had to feel for all those marching around in the cold, their commutes extended by hours in some cases, with blood-pressure-raising frustration.
And I’m all about the little guy – but the transit workers are NOT the little guy. The little guy here is everyone who relies on the subway and the bus to get to their UNDER $48,000K/year-with-no-benefits jobs. Housecleaners. Teachers. Line cooks. Retail clerks. All the people who make this city go – all the people who carry this city on their BACKS, with their hourly (frequently under-the-table) wages and their nonexistent health care and their nonexistent pensions – THAT’s who the real victims of this strike are.
Sorry, guys – I just ain’t feelin’ the love for you tonight.
