Trash

In my little section of Boston there is the constant complaint of trash. I live right off one of the main thoroughfares, so trash is blown on our street rather constantly. It probably doesn't help that the next door neighbor's idea of sweeping the trash is raking it into the gutter. Keep in mind, we don't have much of a gutter since the city at some time in the not too distant past elevated the streets so that they are just about even with the sidewalk.

I've spoken with others about the trash problem. In this day and age of unthinking xenophobia, many blame immigrants. Quite a few also blame teenagers. I usually point out that other parts of the city have public works people sweeping their streets for them. East Boston does not get those kinds of privileges. Obviously having powerful politicians living in our neighborhood hasn't helped. There's a theory that the trash problem will be taken seriously when those luxury condos are built and a few millionaires come into town. Although after an article in the Boston Globe describing the litigiousness of these kinds of folks, I'm not sure it's a good trade.

Yesterday, I was in the car with a friend and we got stuck behind the trash truck. And what did we see, you ask? One of the gentlemen picked up a barrel, threw it headlong into the compactor, spilling half of the contents onto the street. He then emptied what was left and flung the barrel back onto the sidewalk. The truck then moved on.

Somehow, I doubt this happens in Beacon Hill.

Pregnant Pauses

Today, on the Blue line, I ended up sitting between two young women who struck up a conversation about their pregnancies. Both were still early - in the third and fourth months. This was the first for one and the third for the other. Neither woman knew the other. They just started talking. It was a rather funny coincidence because I was coming home from visiting a very pregnant friend who's on mandatory bedrest and is hoping to be giving birth in the very near future - tomorrow if the baby concedes.

Despite a "concerted" effort to focus on the law review article I was reading, the conversation between these women was much more interesting. I was allowed to be a silent participant in this intimate conversation about prenatal vitamins not purchased, nausea, the desperate desire for the child to be born already, and the sleeping habits of neonates.

All three of us exited at the same stop and went our separate ways without the usual farewell rituals practiced by close friends. It goes to show that deep and longstanding acquaintance is not necessary for intimacy. People can talk about the personal in the space of four subway stops and then go on with the rest of their day feeling a little more connected and reassured. At least that's how I felt.

A stalled development

There was a community meeting tonight in my neighborhood. It was about a fairly large development that had stalled and is in danger of not happening. As an example of the balkanization of my neighborhood - and the city in general - only the members of the immediate neighborhood were notified. I learned about the meeting third hand and only because the person who told me about it knew that I do research on these processes but who is also running for office and needed someone to give her a summary of the meeting since she couldn't stay.

As is fairly typical, the State Agency was the messenger for the Developer who was conspicuously absent. The State Agency became the de facto proponent for the suggested changes to the development that no one in the neighborhood wanted - particularly those who had fought hard for the current design. The suggested changes would significantly modify the design of the new park. This community has been fighting to replace the open space that was savagely taken by the State Agency 40 years ago so that you, my dear reader, can fly to Boston relatively easily and cheaply. The frustration and outrage is, in my view, understandable.

It struck me that the development pendulum swings at a different pace for different neighborhoods. Other neighborhoods with a similar demographic and history seem to be bursting at the seams with new housing development. Granted, a speedy development process is a recipe for all kinds of problems, but why has it taken 20 years to get a viable proposal for a single piece of waterfront property? I'm sure if I had a student do the historical research, blame could be spread widely and I would put my money on:

• neighborhood associations (or otherwise well organized groups of residents) who don't want any change anywhere, especially if it brings in "the wrong kind of people,"
• developers who view collaboration with the local community as infringing on a God-given right to build what they want anywhere they want,
  
• local and state agencies that are more concerned with their own bottom lines,
  
• local and state elected officials who are more concerned with re-election than the community, and
• stereotypes about what kinds of developments are viable in what kinds of neighborhoods.

What do I want, you ask? Something smaller (in acreage), taller, more affordable, more environmentally friendly, with more mixed use , fewer parking spaces, and a well designed open space. In short, something appropriate for our urban neighborhood. It would also be nice if I could play badminton in the park but I think we're more likely to get an eco-loft development before the park advisory committee will allow anyone to actually play in the park.

The training of seeing eye dogs

The other day I was on the E line and struck up a conversation with a woman who was training an 18 month old dog to be a guide dog. She told me that she made a mistake when she trained him. Apparently the last time he had been on the train was when he was six months old. She realized when she took him on an elevator that she had not trained him to be in moving vehicles. So she was doing intensive training so that he was comfortable on elevators, trains and other moving objects. He would not be able to be used as a seeing-eye dog if he couldn't handle moving vehicles.

I also learned from this woman that they also have to train them to walk on glossy white tile. Apparently most dogs see glossy white tile like water and won't walk on it.

I didn't realize the standards for these guides dogs are really high. That's a good thing, of course. Who knew that the training for these animals was so intense? This dog was doing o.k. but clearly needed more time to get used to the Green line's jerky movement. I hope she's able to correct his deficiencies so that someone can get the companion they need.

I've decided that if we ever get a dog it will be a guide dog that failed his/her training. At least the dog will have been potty trained.