When I got to the theater, the man who was to speak wasn’t there. But he did speak. He was on a large screen, and not only did he speak live, he could see those of us who were there in the theater at Scripps College here in Claremont.
It is amazing what technology can do, and that was the point that Tobin Siebers, the V.L Parrington Collegiate Professor and Professor of English Language and Literature and Art & Design at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, started off with in his lecture, pointing out that it makes things easier or possible to do for people with disabilities. In this case, as he said, technology made it possible for him to be with us, so to speak, without having to travel. I am assuming that Siebers is disabled, although I couldn’t tell by looking at him, at least on the screen.
This was ironic - eerily so - since he was talking about how we judge whether someone is disabled or not by how they look. In his talk, entitled “The Mad Woman Project: Disability and the Aesthetics of Human Disqualification,” Siebers discussed the fact that disabled people have been dismissed, pitied, seen as in need of curing or repair, segregated, even eliminated primarily because they are unattractive, ugly, grotesque. Siebers posited that, even with recent civil rights laws and other gains, people with disabilities are the only minority that it is “okay” to do this to (for example, trying to cure them, the implication being that they are “not okay.”) I would add that some may argue that this is also the case with queer people, but I would also say that this is really getting to be less okay.
The talk, part of a series called “The Body Politic” put on this semester by the Humanities Institute at Scripps College, was full of facts and insights - many more than I can convey here - but focused on a collection of photographs called “The Mad Woman Project” by a Korean artist. The photographs, shown on the screen along with Siebers, featured women who were mentally disabled/retarded, looking unkempt, disoriented and disheveled and sometimes behaving inappropriately, and were clearly meant to make us uncomfortable. Siebers later revealed that the women in the series aren’t disabled and talked about how the artist is also commenting on the powerful role of beauty or the lack thereof plays in how women are judged (i.e: an ugly woman is or can be more easily called “mad” or, more often, a “bitch”). He went on to briefly contrast this artist’s (I regret that I don’t recall the name) intentions with that of American artist Cindy Sherman, whose photographs are more simply about theatricality and shock.
I want to mention that Siebers took time to point out that the academic field of Disability Studies is not about understanding the disabled and how to help or cure them. Rather, it is about looking at disability as a social concept and how society, in how it does or does not accommodate, makes those with limitations inferior, left out and, indeed, “disabled.”
Aside from the photo project, none of this was new to me. In fact, much of my artistic work has been about how people judge me by how I look as a severely disabled person, and I have also written here about this and what I call the “disabling society.” It was just nice to see it all laid out plainly and matter-of-factly, if not simply, for a general audience (too bad the audience was small), including in the very way it was presented.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Welcome to Camp Sociology
In my last post, I mentioned my visit to Occupy Los Angeles and said that I would write more about it. I did so in my Claremont Courier column which comes out today and which is below.
I’ll mentioned as an addendum that I read an interesting article in the Los Angeles Times several days ago about how, for the most part, progressive Christian churches aren’t involved in this movement, especially in L.A, despite sharing many of its values and goals. As one religious scholar was quoted as asking, “Where are the Quakers?”
Also, it seems that, with the relative lack of police action and violence and even inclement weather associated with it, Occupy L.A, perhaps appropriately, is the Hollywood version of the Occupy movement. There's something pat and movie-like and not quite real about it.
AN OCCUPATION NOT SO FAR OFF
“Welcome to Occupy Claremont.”
Perhaps not everyone in the Village for the Friday Night Live concert by Squeakin’ Wheels a few weeks ago appreciated this repeated barbed salutation from the band. It is likely that the commentary resonated with fans of the longtime Claremont folk group as it played in front of the City Council chamber, but I wonder if there were other passerby that evening who were shocked that Claremont could have anything to do with the boat-rocking, rabel-rousing Occupy Wall Street movement protesting economic as well as social and environmental injustice.
It was about this time, in fact, that it fully dawned on me that Claremont isn’t so far off from this phenomenon - literally. After all, Occupy L.A, which started in September on the lawns flanking Los Angeles City Hall, is just some 30 miles away. Not even that, it turns out.
As I saw several days later, it is an easy Metrolink train ride and a few blocks’ walk away. One can also include a short ride on the Red Line subway. So, really, it is a jump and a hop, or perhaps a jump, skip and hop, away to a fascinating bit of history being made.
In a bit more than an hour after leaving Claremont, I was in the colorful sea of tents that I saw on the front page of the Los Angeles Times before I left. (According to the Times story then, there were about 350 tents, with something like 700 nightly residents.) I immediately thought of the music festivals I have camped at, except that the tents were much more jammed together, and there were many more, and more pointed, signs and banners (mostly hand-made).
Yes, as an article in the next day’s Times pointed out, the lawn was quite brown, but just as notable was, unlike with occupiers in some other cities and in day-and-night contrast with what happened in Oakland last week, how welcoming a host City Hall is. I saw several police officers chatting with the occupiers in a friendly manner, and it is well-known that Mayor Villaraigosa gave out plastic ponchos when it rained last month. I also quickly noticed that, for its part, the encampment is really quite tidy. There are “zero waste” trash, recycle and compost bins in various locations.
Indeed, what struck me most was how very well organized this group is. On a monument at the center of the main encampment south of City Hall were posted a series of large-print broadsheets with detailed guidelines for conducting business and reaching consensus. Also explained was the difference between a general meeting, a committee, a workshop and an affinity group, as well as a number of hand and arm gestures to facilitate communication in a large meeting. Nearby, there was a whiteboard with a full schedule with all these meetings, plus mealtimes.
While I was there, there was a short pep talk by a comedian, Jeff Ross. (Unlike on Wall Street, where the occupiers have come up with the “human microphone,” there was amplification, and it was announced that the microphone was “solar-powered today.”) It was also announced that there would be a workshop the following day on how to make one’s own generator. In addition, during my visit, an affinity group meeting for GLBTQ (gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, queer/questioning) folks got underway.
These protesters may not know exactly what they are saying, but they definitely know how to say it. Too bad we have seen the focus on the former rather than the latter.
I am not saying that there are no problems and that all is lovey-dovey at Occupy L.A. While I noted the peaceful atmosphere, there was some tension in the air - another thing, as with the drumming also evident during my visit, that the mainstream media unfortunately tends to focus on. It is evident that some chronically homeless/street people and an anarchist element have gotten into the mix.
I heard one occupier, apparently on security/maintenance duty, say into a walkie-talkie, “Oh, that dude! I know the one. He’s always causing trouble!”
Several times during the comedian’s spiel, there would be a shouted interruption (“Down with the capitalists!” or whatnot) and some spontaneous chanting.
And the guys with bandanas over their noses and mouths? What’s that all about? Please don’t tell me it’s supposed to make them look more serious, like they mean business.
The next day’s Times article mentioned that one woman had left the protest, feeling that it was corrupted by people who didn’t care about economic justice. “Everybody is pretty much partying it up,” she was quoted as saying. The article also said that there was tension in the encampment over drug use and drinking. I have to say that I caught a sweet whiff or two during my visit, and I hope, especially with City Hall bending over backwards to be tolerant, the protesters nipped the use of illegal substances in the bud (pun intended). Otherwise, Occupy L.A will be gone. Like that.
As I write this, it sounds like City Hall may be running out of patience, even if the occupiers keep their act straight. Whether or not Occupy L.A remains, it, along with all the other occupiers in other cities, have brought up plenty to ponder.
At one point while I was there, a man rode a bicycle around and around the center of the protest, joyously shouting, “The revolution will be televised!” Whether or not the revolution will be on T.V, it will certainly be on-line. During my visit, I saw a number of people using laptops, and I made note of the “media tent.”
It has been said over and over that the occupiers’ message is vague and unclear. I think the message is pretty clear, and I’m beginning to wonder if the media - and the rest of us - don’t want to hear it.
Another thing that has been said, awfully glibly, is that the Occupy Wall Street movement is the Tea Party of the left. At the risk of being glib myself, I would argue that there is a crucial difference: the tea partiers don’t want to pay taxes to fund services for others, and the occupiers are happy to pay taxes but want everyone to get the services the taxes fund.
At the very least, the occupiers are learning and also teaching us all dramatically what it’s like to be homeless, when having to pee or sleep can be a crime. (I saw that someone had set up a solar-powered shower tent, but why have it so close to the street?) But there’s more. This protest has become a big social experiment, challenging both its participants and the rest of us, both in its message and how it is done, to consider how a fair and decent society works or should work.
As for Occupy L.A being not so far from Claremont, it may be even closer. Soon after I arrived, a woman I didn’t know approached me with the greeting, “Rise up, Claremont!”
I’ll mentioned as an addendum that I read an interesting article in the Los Angeles Times several days ago about how, for the most part, progressive Christian churches aren’t involved in this movement, especially in L.A, despite sharing many of its values and goals. As one religious scholar was quoted as asking, “Where are the Quakers?”
Also, it seems that, with the relative lack of police action and violence and even inclement weather associated with it, Occupy L.A, perhaps appropriately, is the Hollywood version of the Occupy movement. There's something pat and movie-like and not quite real about it.
AN OCCUPATION NOT SO FAR OFF
“Welcome to Occupy Claremont.”
Perhaps not everyone in the Village for the Friday Night Live concert by Squeakin’ Wheels a few weeks ago appreciated this repeated barbed salutation from the band. It is likely that the commentary resonated with fans of the longtime Claremont folk group as it played in front of the City Council chamber, but I wonder if there were other passerby that evening who were shocked that Claremont could have anything to do with the boat-rocking, rabel-rousing Occupy Wall Street movement protesting economic as well as social and environmental injustice.
It was about this time, in fact, that it fully dawned on me that Claremont isn’t so far off from this phenomenon - literally. After all, Occupy L.A, which started in September on the lawns flanking Los Angeles City Hall, is just some 30 miles away. Not even that, it turns out.
As I saw several days later, it is an easy Metrolink train ride and a few blocks’ walk away. One can also include a short ride on the Red Line subway. So, really, it is a jump and a hop, or perhaps a jump, skip and hop, away to a fascinating bit of history being made.
In a bit more than an hour after leaving Claremont, I was in the colorful sea of tents that I saw on the front page of the Los Angeles Times before I left. (According to the Times story then, there were about 350 tents, with something like 700 nightly residents.) I immediately thought of the music festivals I have camped at, except that the tents were much more jammed together, and there were many more, and more pointed, signs and banners (mostly hand-made).
Yes, as an article in the next day’s Times pointed out, the lawn was quite brown, but just as notable was, unlike with occupiers in some other cities and in day-and-night contrast with what happened in Oakland last week, how welcoming a host City Hall is. I saw several police officers chatting with the occupiers in a friendly manner, and it is well-known that Mayor Villaraigosa gave out plastic ponchos when it rained last month. I also quickly noticed that, for its part, the encampment is really quite tidy. There are “zero waste” trash, recycle and compost bins in various locations.
Indeed, what struck me most was how very well organized this group is. On a monument at the center of the main encampment south of City Hall were posted a series of large-print broadsheets with detailed guidelines for conducting business and reaching consensus. Also explained was the difference between a general meeting, a committee, a workshop and an affinity group, as well as a number of hand and arm gestures to facilitate communication in a large meeting. Nearby, there was a whiteboard with a full schedule with all these meetings, plus mealtimes.
While I was there, there was a short pep talk by a comedian, Jeff Ross. (Unlike on Wall Street, where the occupiers have come up with the “human microphone,” there was amplification, and it was announced that the microphone was “solar-powered today.”) It was also announced that there would be a workshop the following day on how to make one’s own generator. In addition, during my visit, an affinity group meeting for GLBTQ (gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, queer/questioning) folks got underway.
These protesters may not know exactly what they are saying, but they definitely know how to say it. Too bad we have seen the focus on the former rather than the latter.
I am not saying that there are no problems and that all is lovey-dovey at Occupy L.A. While I noted the peaceful atmosphere, there was some tension in the air - another thing, as with the drumming also evident during my visit, that the mainstream media unfortunately tends to focus on. It is evident that some chronically homeless/street people and an anarchist element have gotten into the mix.
I heard one occupier, apparently on security/maintenance duty, say into a walkie-talkie, “Oh, that dude! I know the one. He’s always causing trouble!”
Several times during the comedian’s spiel, there would be a shouted interruption (“Down with the capitalists!” or whatnot) and some spontaneous chanting.
And the guys with bandanas over their noses and mouths? What’s that all about? Please don’t tell me it’s supposed to make them look more serious, like they mean business.
The next day’s Times article mentioned that one woman had left the protest, feeling that it was corrupted by people who didn’t care about economic justice. “Everybody is pretty much partying it up,” she was quoted as saying. The article also said that there was tension in the encampment over drug use and drinking. I have to say that I caught a sweet whiff or two during my visit, and I hope, especially with City Hall bending over backwards to be tolerant, the protesters nipped the use of illegal substances in the bud (pun intended). Otherwise, Occupy L.A will be gone. Like that.
As I write this, it sounds like City Hall may be running out of patience, even if the occupiers keep their act straight. Whether or not Occupy L.A remains, it, along with all the other occupiers in other cities, have brought up plenty to ponder.
At one point while I was there, a man rode a bicycle around and around the center of the protest, joyously shouting, “The revolution will be televised!” Whether or not the revolution will be on T.V, it will certainly be on-line. During my visit, I saw a number of people using laptops, and I made note of the “media tent.”
It has been said over and over that the occupiers’ message is vague and unclear. I think the message is pretty clear, and I’m beginning to wonder if the media - and the rest of us - don’t want to hear it.
Another thing that has been said, awfully glibly, is that the Occupy Wall Street movement is the Tea Party of the left. At the risk of being glib myself, I would argue that there is a crucial difference: the tea partiers don’t want to pay taxes to fund services for others, and the occupiers are happy to pay taxes but want everyone to get the services the taxes fund.
At the very least, the occupiers are learning and also teaching us all dramatically what it’s like to be homeless, when having to pee or sleep can be a crime. (I saw that someone had set up a solar-powered shower tent, but why have it so close to the street?) But there’s more. This protest has become a big social experiment, challenging both its participants and the rest of us, both in its message and how it is done, to consider how a fair and decent society works or should work.
As for Occupy L.A being not so far from Claremont, it may be even closer. Soon after I arrived, a woman I didn’t know approached me with the greeting, “Rise up, Claremont!”
Friday, October 21, 2011
Waving the the (P)flag
I went to a P-FLAG (Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays) meeting last week. It wasn’t my first P-FLAG meeting, but it may as well have been. And not just because it was at a place I’ve never been (the Metropolitan Community Church) in Los Angeles, and nobody knew me when I made my entrance in my wheelchair, and I was asked, “And who are you?” (Yikes, but I’m delighted to say that I passed with flying colors - pun intended - with my speech device.)
I had learned a few days earlier that a friend of mine is involved with this group, and I decided to go out there on a whim. As I told the group, there used to be a P-FLAG meeting here in Claremont when I came out about ten years ago. Going to the meeting at that time was very helpful, and I missed it when it ceased to exist.
But I really didn’t remember. I forgot how powerful a P-FLAG meeting is. I forgot about the funny and wrenching coming-out stories, about how moving it is to hear a mother say all the horrible things she thought when her son told her that he’s gay, about how touching it is to see a father cry when telling how he rejected his lesbian daughter. Even more powerful is when, as in a couple cases at this meeting, both the child and parent are there.
I forgot how much I love having this community, even as it hurts me when I, as I also said at the meeting, wish my parents would attend a P-FLAG meeting (if not march in a gay pride parade as part of a P-FLAG contingent).
I also remembered the piece I wrote attending my first P-FLAG meeting. I was terrified - not only of announcing that I’m gay, but this was long before I had my speech device - and I was accompanied by my friends Alan and Jim, who all but held my hand. Unfortunately, I can’t find a hard copy of the piece, which was published in the chapter newsletter and which was lost, along with all my other writing, when my hard drive crashed two years ago. (Hard lesson learned: Always back up your files!)
Soon after attending the meeting last week, I got the idea of getting the Claremont P-FLAG meeting up and running again. I probably can’t, but I sure would like to. It is crazy that I have to drive to L.A and my P-FLAG-attends Claremont friends trek to Orange County.
There’s something more, though. It can be argued that the laying down of a P-FLAG meeting is a good thing, because it means that everything is okay for GLBT people. I don’t buy it. I don’t think P-FLAG is about or all about getting gay rights. Even if we queer folks get all the rights we need and want, it is still important to have places where we and our loved ones to go and have community and support.
P.S: Speaking of community, I went to Occupy L.A a couple days ago. What struck me most was how very, very organized it is. There are detailed guidelines on conducting business and reaching consensus, and there are general meetings, committees, workshops and affinity groups (including “GLBTQ”. (Sound familiar, fellow Quakers?)
However, that doesn’t mean that there are no problems and that everything is lovey-dovey. For example, I read yesterday that the people there are arguing over drugs. They need to nip this is the bud - pun definitely intended - and ban illegal drugs, or Occupy L.A will very soon be over. (I plan to post more about Occupy L.A soon.)
I had learned a few days earlier that a friend of mine is involved with this group, and I decided to go out there on a whim. As I told the group, there used to be a P-FLAG meeting here in Claremont when I came out about ten years ago. Going to the meeting at that time was very helpful, and I missed it when it ceased to exist.
But I really didn’t remember. I forgot how powerful a P-FLAG meeting is. I forgot about the funny and wrenching coming-out stories, about how moving it is to hear a mother say all the horrible things she thought when her son told her that he’s gay, about how touching it is to see a father cry when telling how he rejected his lesbian daughter. Even more powerful is when, as in a couple cases at this meeting, both the child and parent are there.
I forgot how much I love having this community, even as it hurts me when I, as I also said at the meeting, wish my parents would attend a P-FLAG meeting (if not march in a gay pride parade as part of a P-FLAG contingent).
I also remembered the piece I wrote attending my first P-FLAG meeting. I was terrified - not only of announcing that I’m gay, but this was long before I had my speech device - and I was accompanied by my friends Alan and Jim, who all but held my hand. Unfortunately, I can’t find a hard copy of the piece, which was published in the chapter newsletter and which was lost, along with all my other writing, when my hard drive crashed two years ago. (Hard lesson learned: Always back up your files!)
Soon after attending the meeting last week, I got the idea of getting the Claremont P-FLAG meeting up and running again. I probably can’t, but I sure would like to. It is crazy that I have to drive to L.A and my P-FLAG-attends Claremont friends trek to Orange County.
There’s something more, though. It can be argued that the laying down of a P-FLAG meeting is a good thing, because it means that everything is okay for GLBT people. I don’t buy it. I don’t think P-FLAG is about or all about getting gay rights. Even if we queer folks get all the rights we need and want, it is still important to have places where we and our loved ones to go and have community and support.
P.S: Speaking of community, I went to Occupy L.A a couple days ago. What struck me most was how very, very organized it is. There are detailed guidelines on conducting business and reaching consensus, and there are general meetings, committees, workshops and affinity groups (including “GLBTQ”. (Sound familiar, fellow Quakers?)
However, that doesn’t mean that there are no problems and that everything is lovey-dovey. For example, I read yesterday that the people there are arguing over drugs. They need to nip this is the bud - pun definitely intended - and ban illegal drugs, or Occupy L.A will very soon be over. (I plan to post more about Occupy L.A soon.)
Friday, October 7, 2011
Oh, Claremont!
Here, in my latest column in the Claremont Courier, is an example of how my beloved hometown of Claremont, like with all that we most love, sometimes drives me crazy.
I’ll also note that this column coincidentally appeared during the same week that Ken Burns’ Prohibition was broadcast on PBS. The three-part documentary about the constitutional amendment banning the sale and purchasing of alcoholic beverages in the 1920's is a brilliant look at the folly of legislating morality. What started as a well-intentioned attempt to end a possibly dangerous and destructive behavior went terribly awry and ended up making the behavior not only more attractive but also even more dangerous and destructive.
I should also point out that Rancho Cucamonga is a town several miles east of Claremont.
THE WRITING’S ON THE SKIN
Now, the picture, with its fine lines and exquisite details, can be seen. At last, the message, whether it be small and ever-so-discreet or big and out-there bold, can be exposed. Finally, the truth, either in simple black and white or in glorious color, is revealed for all to see.
After all this time, the Claremont Tattoo Parlor can now, finally, be in Claremont.
At least, technically.
The Claremont Tattoo Parlor? Yes. There has been a Claremont Tattoo Parlor - actually, Claremont Tattoo Studio - for years.
In Rancho Cucamonga.
Not in Claremont.
Because the Claremont Tattoo Studio, which is at 3086 Archibald Avenue in Rancho Cucamonga, couldn’t be in Claremont. It, along with all other tattoo parlors, was banned in Claremont.
The Claremont Tattoo Studio has been in Rancho Cucamonga for over 15 years since, in 1994, it tried to open up shop in the arcade in the Village and it was deemed necessary to outlaw tattoo parlors in Claremont.
That’s all of Claremont. Not just the Village. (I’ll get to why this is important later.)
Never mind that, at the time, most of the guys working at Some Crust Bakery, just down the street from the arcade in the Village on Yale Avenue, doling out our beloved croissants and cookies, were covered in tattoos. Not only did they have the standard tattoos on their upper arms, they had tattoos running down their arms. And down their legs, which the guys showed off in their shorts.
Yes, this was a big deal, a huge bruhaha. I got three columns out of it. Three consecutive columns. That’s about a month and a half that the controversy went on for.
And it was weird. Just as weird as it sounds, with a bunch of tattooed bakers a block down the street. Just as weird as the Claremont Tattoo Studio being in Rancho Cucamonga.
The City, backed by the City Council, kept coming up with problems that a tattoo parlor in the Village would present. There were concerns about the instruments being kept sanitized. There were concerns about the tattooing being screened off.
It was argued that there were not enough or strong enough state and county regulations pertaining to these and the many other such issues that the City came up with. That other towns which had tattoo parlors also didn’t have all these health regulations didn’t matter.
The thing was that the City had no rules regarding tattoo parlors, and here it had the Claremont Tattoo Studio wanting to set up shop. The City, backed by the City Council, deemed it best to ban tattoo parlors.
Of course, the sanitizing and the screening and all that weren’t the issue. But they were easier for the City to say than something like, “We don’t want these seedy joints and the kind of folks they attract here.”
It was even easier just to outlaw tattoo parlors.
Like I said, it was weird. Because look at the folks Some Crust was attracting. And - oh, yeah - what about Rhino Records?
But it gets weirder. Or, really, it gets logical and makes sense.
Flash forward twenty years, and the brilliant colors are filled in on this puppy.
Because, now, after all this time since the Claremont Tattoo Studio was told that it and its fellow establishments weren’t welcome here, tattoo parlors are allowed in Claremont.
And that’s because it turns out, these twenty years later, that banning tattoo parlors may well be unconstitutional.
It turns out that Claremont can’t ban “these seedy joints and the kind of folks they attract.” Even when these folks are already here.
Like I said, brilliant.
It turns out that a tattoo artist tried to set up shop in Hermosa Beach and was stopped because of a ban similar to Claremont’s. The tattoo artist appealed, and, last year, the U.S 9th Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that the ban violates the First Amendment, with its guarantee of free expression. Especially with the state and county health officials beefing up their inspections in the last decade, there was no escaping this conclusion.
And there was no escaping for Claremont. The City realized that its ban is a no-go and that it too could be sued.
Brian Desatnik, director of community development, couldn’t have said it better. “Banning tattooing is unconstitutional. Changes needed to be made in order to be in compliant with the law.”
So, in order to be legal, in order to be constitutional, Claremont now allows tattoo parlors.
But not in the Village.
It’s still weird but not as weird.
Along with lifting the ban, the City Council approved restrictions on where tattoo parlors can locate within Claremont. In addition to not being able to set up shop less than 200 feet from any residential district, religious institutions, school or public park and 250 feet from another tattoo parlor, tattoo parlors are only allowed in business/industrial areas just above Foothill Boulevard and just above Arrow Highway.
The Village is out - no question.
Mayor Pro Temp Larry Shroeder assures that the City will have “the ability to place those businesses in the appropriate space and not necessarily right in our Village.”
Of course. Not “those businesses.”
Like sex offenders.
It doesn’t matter that, while tattoos aren’t for everybody, an awful lot of people under about 35 have them, and more and more don’t hide them. It doesn’t matter that, yes, gang-bangers and ex-cons have tattoos, but so do office workers, teachers, computer technicians, postal workers, waiters - all kinds of people - and don’t forget bakers and record store clerks. It doesn’t matter that all these people, with all their tattoos, frequent the Village, and some also work in the Village.
Speaking of frequenting the Village, I always hear it lamented that not enough of the college students, as well as others, go to the Village. Well, if there was a tattoo parlor in the Village, more students would definitely be in the Village.
Or maybe we don’t want those kinds of people.
I’ll also note that this column coincidentally appeared during the same week that Ken Burns’ Prohibition was broadcast on PBS. The three-part documentary about the constitutional amendment banning the sale and purchasing of alcoholic beverages in the 1920's is a brilliant look at the folly of legislating morality. What started as a well-intentioned attempt to end a possibly dangerous and destructive behavior went terribly awry and ended up making the behavior not only more attractive but also even more dangerous and destructive.
I should also point out that Rancho Cucamonga is a town several miles east of Claremont.
THE WRITING’S ON THE SKIN
Now, the picture, with its fine lines and exquisite details, can be seen. At last, the message, whether it be small and ever-so-discreet or big and out-there bold, can be exposed. Finally, the truth, either in simple black and white or in glorious color, is revealed for all to see.
After all this time, the Claremont Tattoo Parlor can now, finally, be in Claremont.
At least, technically.
The Claremont Tattoo Parlor? Yes. There has been a Claremont Tattoo Parlor - actually, Claremont Tattoo Studio - for years.
In Rancho Cucamonga.
Not in Claremont.
Because the Claremont Tattoo Studio, which is at 3086 Archibald Avenue in Rancho Cucamonga, couldn’t be in Claremont. It, along with all other tattoo parlors, was banned in Claremont.
The Claremont Tattoo Studio has been in Rancho Cucamonga for over 15 years since, in 1994, it tried to open up shop in the arcade in the Village and it was deemed necessary to outlaw tattoo parlors in Claremont.
That’s all of Claremont. Not just the Village. (I’ll get to why this is important later.)
Never mind that, at the time, most of the guys working at Some Crust Bakery, just down the street from the arcade in the Village on Yale Avenue, doling out our beloved croissants and cookies, were covered in tattoos. Not only did they have the standard tattoos on their upper arms, they had tattoos running down their arms. And down their legs, which the guys showed off in their shorts.
Yes, this was a big deal, a huge bruhaha. I got three columns out of it. Three consecutive columns. That’s about a month and a half that the controversy went on for.
And it was weird. Just as weird as it sounds, with a bunch of tattooed bakers a block down the street. Just as weird as the Claremont Tattoo Studio being in Rancho Cucamonga.
The City, backed by the City Council, kept coming up with problems that a tattoo parlor in the Village would present. There were concerns about the instruments being kept sanitized. There were concerns about the tattooing being screened off.
It was argued that there were not enough or strong enough state and county regulations pertaining to these and the many other such issues that the City came up with. That other towns which had tattoo parlors also didn’t have all these health regulations didn’t matter.
The thing was that the City had no rules regarding tattoo parlors, and here it had the Claremont Tattoo Studio wanting to set up shop. The City, backed by the City Council, deemed it best to ban tattoo parlors.
Of course, the sanitizing and the screening and all that weren’t the issue. But they were easier for the City to say than something like, “We don’t want these seedy joints and the kind of folks they attract here.”
It was even easier just to outlaw tattoo parlors.
Like I said, it was weird. Because look at the folks Some Crust was attracting. And - oh, yeah - what about Rhino Records?
But it gets weirder. Or, really, it gets logical and makes sense.
Flash forward twenty years, and the brilliant colors are filled in on this puppy.
Because, now, after all this time since the Claremont Tattoo Studio was told that it and its fellow establishments weren’t welcome here, tattoo parlors are allowed in Claremont.
And that’s because it turns out, these twenty years later, that banning tattoo parlors may well be unconstitutional.
It turns out that Claremont can’t ban “these seedy joints and the kind of folks they attract.” Even when these folks are already here.
Like I said, brilliant.
It turns out that a tattoo artist tried to set up shop in Hermosa Beach and was stopped because of a ban similar to Claremont’s. The tattoo artist appealed, and, last year, the U.S 9th Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that the ban violates the First Amendment, with its guarantee of free expression. Especially with the state and county health officials beefing up their inspections in the last decade, there was no escaping this conclusion.
And there was no escaping for Claremont. The City realized that its ban is a no-go and that it too could be sued.
Brian Desatnik, director of community development, couldn’t have said it better. “Banning tattooing is unconstitutional. Changes needed to be made in order to be in compliant with the law.”
So, in order to be legal, in order to be constitutional, Claremont now allows tattoo parlors.
But not in the Village.
It’s still weird but not as weird.
Along with lifting the ban, the City Council approved restrictions on where tattoo parlors can locate within Claremont. In addition to not being able to set up shop less than 200 feet from any residential district, religious institutions, school or public park and 250 feet from another tattoo parlor, tattoo parlors are only allowed in business/industrial areas just above Foothill Boulevard and just above Arrow Highway.
The Village is out - no question.
Mayor Pro Temp Larry Shroeder assures that the City will have “the ability to place those businesses in the appropriate space and not necessarily right in our Village.”
Of course. Not “those businesses.”
Like sex offenders.
It doesn’t matter that, while tattoos aren’t for everybody, an awful lot of people under about 35 have them, and more and more don’t hide them. It doesn’t matter that, yes, gang-bangers and ex-cons have tattoos, but so do office workers, teachers, computer technicians, postal workers, waiters - all kinds of people - and don’t forget bakers and record store clerks. It doesn’t matter that all these people, with all their tattoos, frequent the Village, and some also work in the Village.
Speaking of frequenting the Village, I always hear it lamented that not enough of the college students, as well as others, go to the Village. Well, if there was a tattoo parlor in the Village, more students would definitely be in the Village.
Or maybe we don’t want those kinds of people.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
And, furthermore...
For worse and for better, when it comes to two issues I wrote about earlier this year, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
*I wrote about how crazy it was that Jared Loughner, the alleged gunman in January’s Tuscon massacre, was being forcibly medicated so that he can stand trial and be convicted. According to recent news, things are still crazy, if not crazier.
Last week, U.S District Judge Larry Burns, who ruled in May that Loughner was mentally unfit to stand trial, extended Loughner’s treatment, including forced medication presumably, at a federal prison hospital in Missouri by four months, declaring that “measurable progress towards restoration has been made.” It was noted that, although his lawyers say that he is so disabled that he has been on suicide watch since July and continues to be psychotic despite medication, Loughner no longer smears feces on his bed, is less likely to speak in a confusing “word salad” and has expressed remorse. Loughner has also spoken of his dogs and turtles with affectation, and one expert said, “His humanity is coming back.”
Good. That means, hopefully, he can be put to death.
*Last week, I went to a talk at Pomona College by Carlos Motta, a queer artist and activist. He talked about his on-line project, http://wewhofeeldifferently.info, featuring interviews with dozens of queer activists, and I was reminded of a transgender performance artist and comedian I wrote about seeing at Pomona College in the Spring saying that while gay people want to be like everyone else (marriage, military service, etc.), queer people want everyone else to be like them.
This wasn’t just a joke, and I feel this way more and more. As Motta pointed out in his talk last week, rather than celebrate the end of don’t-ask-don’t-tell as in the gay community, queer people ignore or reject it, in that it promotes the fighting of war and the destruction of humanity.
*I wrote about how crazy it was that Jared Loughner, the alleged gunman in January’s Tuscon massacre, was being forcibly medicated so that he can stand trial and be convicted. According to recent news, things are still crazy, if not crazier.
Last week, U.S District Judge Larry Burns, who ruled in May that Loughner was mentally unfit to stand trial, extended Loughner’s treatment, including forced medication presumably, at a federal prison hospital in Missouri by four months, declaring that “measurable progress towards restoration has been made.” It was noted that, although his lawyers say that he is so disabled that he has been on suicide watch since July and continues to be psychotic despite medication, Loughner no longer smears feces on his bed, is less likely to speak in a confusing “word salad” and has expressed remorse. Loughner has also spoken of his dogs and turtles with affectation, and one expert said, “His humanity is coming back.”
Good. That means, hopefully, he can be put to death.
*Last week, I went to a talk at Pomona College by Carlos Motta, a queer artist and activist. He talked about his on-line project, http://wewhofeeldifferently.info, featuring interviews with dozens of queer activists, and I was reminded of a transgender performance artist and comedian I wrote about seeing at Pomona College in the Spring saying that while gay people want to be like everyone else (marriage, military service, etc.), queer people want everyone else to be like them.
This wasn’t just a joke, and I feel this way more and more. As Motta pointed out in his talk last week, rather than celebrate the end of don’t-ask-don’t-tell as in the gay community, queer people ignore or reject it, in that it promotes the fighting of war and the destruction of humanity.
Friday, September 23, 2011
A September come true
I could have told you. In fact, I did tell you.
At the end of last month, I wrote here that I was happy that September was on the way. I wrote about how I really like September here, about how things really pick up at this time in this college town, even though it can be awfully hot. And I wrote that I liked knowing that everyone else is here, at work, even in the horrible heat, like me - and not off on some vacation.
Yes, I shouldn’t be surprised. It always happens. Just when I’m ready for the cooler weather, just when I’m set for my favorite season of Fall, which starts today, it gets really hot.
Then why was I surprised yesterday when it got really, really hot and really, really humid, leaving me again with no energy? Why am I shocked today to be starting another Fall shirtless in my cut-off overalls?
I really can imagine a poor freshman kid from Vermont or somewhere at one of the colleges here calling home in tears and saying he had made a terrible mistake.
Like I said, along with many other things, in my Claremont Courier column earlier this month.
A TURN IN THE YEAR
Random thoughts - like the leaves that will start falling soon enough:
*A grunt is not like a cobbler. Instead of a topping, a grunt has little dumplings.
*It’s amazing what can be learned - like what a grunt is - on-line. (I was looking for a recipe with blueberries.)
*The hand-painted signs on the buildings at Pomona College for freshman orientation this year were very clean-cut and straight-forward. No crazy curves and tie-dyed rainbow colors.
*Speaking of tie-dyed rainbow colors, I found out this summer that Spensers has way cooler shoelaces - and lots of other way cooler stuff - than Hot Topic. In fact, I don’t know how Hot Topic gets by with Spensers two doors down in the Montclair Plaza.
*I didn’t find this out on-line. The guy at Hot Topic told me to check out Spensers when I couldn’t find my usual rainbow shoelaces at Hot Topic. I wonder if he tells this to a lot of people.
*Hey, if I could buy rainbow shoelaces in Claremont, I would. I certainly wouldn’t go to the mall.
*In Claremont, September might just as well be January. With Claremont being a college town and with all the students settled back in school, it really feels like a new year here.
*Or let’s just say it’s a turn in the year. A big turn.
*Unfortunately, the weather in September isn’t like the weather in January. It may be cool at times, but September has been known as the hottest month here. After all, it’s “Fair time.”
*Why can’t the Los Angers County Fairgrounds be pretty - that’s right, pretty, with grass and pine trees - like the Nevada County Fairgrounds in Grass Valley?
*I wonder why The Help came out last month instead of in the Fall, when the better, more prestigious movies come out. It is an old-fashioned good movie. Too bad it also has an old-fashioned Hollywood view of a white person coming to the rescue of the blacks.
*Am I the only one who looks forward to the end of Daylight Savings Time?
*The Hodads, who played at Memorial Park last month, give the Ravelers a run for their money in my book. As for the Answer, please - it’s so old-hat.
*Speaking of books, it’s not too late for a good, crazy, trashy read. Mark Haskell Smith’s Baked, which I happened upon at Barnes and Noble after buying the rainbow shoelaces, fits the bill quite nicely. The blurb on the back - “murder, mayhem, marijuana and Mormans” - pretty much sums it up. And Smith, by the way, is a damn good writer.
*It’s also not too late for one last trip to the beach. Or two or three.
*Lots of times, I wish there was only one band playing in the Village on Friday evenings. Maybe they is just the obsessive compulsive in me, who wants to respect both acts, speaking. At least have the two acts be completely different.
*I’m actually glad that Sunset Junction, the annual two-day street fair in the Silverlake neighborhood in Los Angeles, was denied permits due to not paying thousands in fees and had to cancel at the last minute. It got too big for its britches with its big-name acts. I remember getting in with a $3 voluntary donation, in contrast to the $25 charge in recent years.
*And I get cranky when the Village Venture - yep, another thing that’s coming up - takes over our downtown for one day. Imagine having to pay $25 just to go to the Village, before shopping or anything. That’s just wrong!
*Actually, I was on-line looking for a recipe for blueberry glop, but I couldn’t find one. Was blueberry glop - a very loose cobbler with lots and lots of blueberries - something we made up when I was a kid?
*I have written a lot about how Claremont in recent years has gotten to be not quite so dead in the summer, with the street fair and all the music in the Village. But it’s still nice to have the colleges back in session and having all those talks and performances going on.
*Okay, I have a confession: Another reason I like September is that, even if it gets really hot, everyone is back at work and back at school. I don’t feel like I’m stuck here working while others are off on fabulous, cool vacations. We’re all in the same boat.
*I wonder how many students from back east call home during a heat wave saying they made a horrible mistake after taking a campus tour on a bright, crisp February day.
*I’m also looking forward to those falling leaves, so brilliantly colored.
*And apple crisp, speaking of crisp.
*Apple is the best crisp, but what about making a crisp with blueberries? It’s not bad with peaches and raspberries.
*It’s sad to see Borders book store closed down.
*Shame on Amazon.com trying to get away with not collecting state taxes so that it can look more like a bargain, driving stores like Borders and especially smaller book shops out of business. And more shame for trying to do this by having us vote on it.
*Amazon.com - the new Walmart.
*With apologies to the Claremont Forum’s used book store benefitting its wonderful prison library project, the Village needs a good, big book store. And somewhere to buy tie-dyed rainbow shoelaces.
*Spensers. For such a hip store, it sounds so old-fashioned. Like a five-and-dime. Or a grunt.
At the end of last month, I wrote here that I was happy that September was on the way. I wrote about how I really like September here, about how things really pick up at this time in this college town, even though it can be awfully hot. And I wrote that I liked knowing that everyone else is here, at work, even in the horrible heat, like me - and not off on some vacation.
Yes, I shouldn’t be surprised. It always happens. Just when I’m ready for the cooler weather, just when I’m set for my favorite season of Fall, which starts today, it gets really hot.
Then why was I surprised yesterday when it got really, really hot and really, really humid, leaving me again with no energy? Why am I shocked today to be starting another Fall shirtless in my cut-off overalls?
I really can imagine a poor freshman kid from Vermont or somewhere at one of the colleges here calling home in tears and saying he had made a terrible mistake.
Like I said, along with many other things, in my Claremont Courier column earlier this month.
A TURN IN THE YEAR
Random thoughts - like the leaves that will start falling soon enough:
*A grunt is not like a cobbler. Instead of a topping, a grunt has little dumplings.
*It’s amazing what can be learned - like what a grunt is - on-line. (I was looking for a recipe with blueberries.)
*The hand-painted signs on the buildings at Pomona College for freshman orientation this year were very clean-cut and straight-forward. No crazy curves and tie-dyed rainbow colors.
*Speaking of tie-dyed rainbow colors, I found out this summer that Spensers has way cooler shoelaces - and lots of other way cooler stuff - than Hot Topic. In fact, I don’t know how Hot Topic gets by with Spensers two doors down in the Montclair Plaza.
*I didn’t find this out on-line. The guy at Hot Topic told me to check out Spensers when I couldn’t find my usual rainbow shoelaces at Hot Topic. I wonder if he tells this to a lot of people.
*Hey, if I could buy rainbow shoelaces in Claremont, I would. I certainly wouldn’t go to the mall.
*In Claremont, September might just as well be January. With Claremont being a college town and with all the students settled back in school, it really feels like a new year here.
*Or let’s just say it’s a turn in the year. A big turn.
*Unfortunately, the weather in September isn’t like the weather in January. It may be cool at times, but September has been known as the hottest month here. After all, it’s “Fair time.”
*Why can’t the Los Angers County Fairgrounds be pretty - that’s right, pretty, with grass and pine trees - like the Nevada County Fairgrounds in Grass Valley?
*I wonder why The Help came out last month instead of in the Fall, when the better, more prestigious movies come out. It is an old-fashioned good movie. Too bad it also has an old-fashioned Hollywood view of a white person coming to the rescue of the blacks.
*Am I the only one who looks forward to the end of Daylight Savings Time?
*The Hodads, who played at Memorial Park last month, give the Ravelers a run for their money in my book. As for the Answer, please - it’s so old-hat.
*Speaking of books, it’s not too late for a good, crazy, trashy read. Mark Haskell Smith’s Baked, which I happened upon at Barnes and Noble after buying the rainbow shoelaces, fits the bill quite nicely. The blurb on the back - “murder, mayhem, marijuana and Mormans” - pretty much sums it up. And Smith, by the way, is a damn good writer.
*It’s also not too late for one last trip to the beach. Or two or three.
*Lots of times, I wish there was only one band playing in the Village on Friday evenings. Maybe they is just the obsessive compulsive in me, who wants to respect both acts, speaking. At least have the two acts be completely different.
*I’m actually glad that Sunset Junction, the annual two-day street fair in the Silverlake neighborhood in Los Angeles, was denied permits due to not paying thousands in fees and had to cancel at the last minute. It got too big for its britches with its big-name acts. I remember getting in with a $3 voluntary donation, in contrast to the $25 charge in recent years.
*And I get cranky when the Village Venture - yep, another thing that’s coming up - takes over our downtown for one day. Imagine having to pay $25 just to go to the Village, before shopping or anything. That’s just wrong!
*Actually, I was on-line looking for a recipe for blueberry glop, but I couldn’t find one. Was blueberry glop - a very loose cobbler with lots and lots of blueberries - something we made up when I was a kid?
*I have written a lot about how Claremont in recent years has gotten to be not quite so dead in the summer, with the street fair and all the music in the Village. But it’s still nice to have the colleges back in session and having all those talks and performances going on.
*Okay, I have a confession: Another reason I like September is that, even if it gets really hot, everyone is back at work and back at school. I don’t feel like I’m stuck here working while others are off on fabulous, cool vacations. We’re all in the same boat.
*I wonder how many students from back east call home during a heat wave saying they made a horrible mistake after taking a campus tour on a bright, crisp February day.
*I’m also looking forward to those falling leaves, so brilliantly colored.
*And apple crisp, speaking of crisp.
*Apple is the best crisp, but what about making a crisp with blueberries? It’s not bad with peaches and raspberries.
*It’s sad to see Borders book store closed down.
*Shame on Amazon.com trying to get away with not collecting state taxes so that it can look more like a bargain, driving stores like Borders and especially smaller book shops out of business. And more shame for trying to do this by having us vote on it.
*Amazon.com - the new Walmart.
*With apologies to the Claremont Forum’s used book store benefitting its wonderful prison library project, the Village needs a good, big book store. And somewhere to buy tie-dyed rainbow shoelaces.
*Spensers. For such a hip store, it sounds so old-fashioned. Like a five-and-dime. Or a grunt.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Living on fear
There he was, advocating torture, pure and simple, in no uncertain terms. He said he would use water-boarding in a heartbeat (if it would lead to any terrorist information).
I never did like Dick Cheney, and I didn’t expect to like him when I saw him interviewed on television last month. The man widely believed to be the force - the force for evil, many say - behind President George W. Bush was making a very rare appearance to promote his recently published memoir, and, not surprisingly perhaps, he didn’t pull any punches.
What was surprising was that, even as he was spewing awful things, I found myself having feeling, having heart, for Dick Cheney. That’s because he literally doesn’t have a heart.
In the interview, Cheney sat in a room and walked around his Wyoming ranch wearing a bulky vest loaded with batteries and wires. Quite eerily, he looked like a suicide bomber, but these batteries and wires keep his heart going after so many heart attacks. The interviewer panicked when, at one point, he disconnected the batteries and it beeped.
This may make Cheney look even more like Darth Vader, with powered breathing, but it occurred to me, as I watched all this, that this is a scared man, a man living in fear. His life is based on fear. To Cheney, death - never mind illness and disability - is imminent, and he has done everything, to the extent possible, to shield, if not arm, himself against it.
Unfortunately, perhaps because he is not good at dealing with this fear, he made everyone else feel it and the need for shielding and arming. And unfortunately, this fear was all too evident in many of the wall-to-wall commentaries and events marking Sunday’s tenth anniversary of the September 11 attacks.
I never did like Dick Cheney, and I didn’t expect to like him when I saw him interviewed on television last month. The man widely believed to be the force - the force for evil, many say - behind President George W. Bush was making a very rare appearance to promote his recently published memoir, and, not surprisingly perhaps, he didn’t pull any punches.
What was surprising was that, even as he was spewing awful things, I found myself having feeling, having heart, for Dick Cheney. That’s because he literally doesn’t have a heart.
In the interview, Cheney sat in a room and walked around his Wyoming ranch wearing a bulky vest loaded with batteries and wires. Quite eerily, he looked like a suicide bomber, but these batteries and wires keep his heart going after so many heart attacks. The interviewer panicked when, at one point, he disconnected the batteries and it beeped.
This may make Cheney look even more like Darth Vader, with powered breathing, but it occurred to me, as I watched all this, that this is a scared man, a man living in fear. His life is based on fear. To Cheney, death - never mind illness and disability - is imminent, and he has done everything, to the extent possible, to shield, if not arm, himself against it.
Unfortunately, perhaps because he is not good at dealing with this fear, he made everyone else feel it and the need for shielding and arming. And unfortunately, this fear was all too evident in many of the wall-to-wall commentaries and events marking Sunday’s tenth anniversary of the September 11 attacks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)