A 13 year old kid came onto the E train and said the following:

Kid: Hi my name is *inaudible* I am raising money for my baseball team by selling these M&Ms.

-Train shakes a little as he tightens his bookbag

Kid: This money does not go into my pocket, I sell this for my team to raise money. Thank you very much.

The kid is well dressed, does look athletic enough to be on a baseball team and is walking through calmly. I see him collect a single dollar bill and think who the idiot was that gave this kid money.

This kid is not alone, there are hundreds like him hovering around public transportation hubs around the city. It makes me think that the beggar mafia is in town and these kids are some of the pawns. Either that or it’s individual kids picking up this wave of entrepreneurship on their own. Whatever the case, those motherfuckers aren’t going to sell me M&Ms by lying.

If they told me the truth, I’d definitely think about it.

As a former NYC high school teacher, I must expound on a subject that fellow NY Metblogger Eric touched on as part of his blog entry entitled “More Incentives” on 6/19 http://nyc.metblogs.com/archives/2007/06/more_incentive.phtml

As a teacher in the inner-city, I was constantly searching for ways to incentivize my students to study and raise their grades. I was not allowed to give money but I ran contests to compensate them for the things they were supposed to be doing, like coming every day to class on time for a week, or turning in homework for a whole week. I gave pizza parties, I took winners to lunch– you name it. And it was always the same kids who won all the time; the kids who reaped the benefits were the students who did these things anyway — incentive or not. The students who were habitually late, cut class, or failed quizes didn’t change their ways. But what they did do was try any way they could to trick the system, like coming in on ttime, sitting at their desks, but running out when I turned my back. Or better yet, running in before the late bell and then falling asleep, surreptitiously text-messaging under the desk, or otherwise continuing the bad habits they always had. Or worse, arguing and making excuses for missing the mark, and demanding pizza lunch anyway.

No, the only money incentive they could see was the lure of the NBA, MLB. a starring role in a music video, or a record contract. Once when American Idol auditions came to town, a bunch of my students announced to me that they wouldn’t be back next week — they were all off to Hollywood, because certainly they would wow the judges and be selected.

I don’t have the answer or I would be writing this from a plush well-appointed office rather than my apartment. But I can tell the Mayor and the Chancellor that it’s going to take more than a few hundred dollars given to the students who would do well anyway. Unlike Eric, my parents never paid me for good grades. When I told them they should pay me for my A’s, they said I was expected to get A’s, and they weren’t going to pay me for something I should be doing anyway. Amen, Eric. It doesn’t work. Instead, we have to somehow prove to them that an education will pay off like the media stars they so idolize, who got where they are by being one in a million contenders

I once tried to extoll the future payoff of a good education to one of my students. I couldn’t argue with his response: “I don’t want to go to school all those years and make your crappy salary”. he said.

New York City is a grand experiment in natural selection. Maybe “natural” is not the word, but the city sure is a testament to human competition. We compete for the best apartment, the best outfit, the best hair cut, the best looking date, the best expensive dog, the best dinner reservations, etc.

When people first move here from their little villages, they are thrown into a bizarre environment: freakishly tall buildings, man-made everything, constant noise and congestion, an exhaustingly fast pace, and millions of power-hungry people.

Everything here is expensive, so a person who slacks will either be kicked out of the city, thrown onto the streets, or be forced to live in the agony of social inequality. Not only is it expensive to physically live here, but it also becomes overwhelming to not be able to afford living here. Every day, I walk by a crowded, glamorous restaurant on my way home. I look into the window and see beautiful people laughing and eating delicious food with expensive wine. I can’t afford to go there, so I watch from afar. Often I wish that I could be inside, having a good time as well.

Moreover, when money, beauty, and power are involved, everything will inherently begin to be ranked. Something will always be “better” than something else. This includes cafes, restaurants, hair cutters, dry cleaners, drug deliverymen, street cart food, and well, people. Some people do their own research, others just go by what’s “hot”. The most common adjective I hear all the time to describe anything is “sexy” (adj. appealing, exciting.)

Of course this sort of competition exists everywhere, but not to the degree and the way it is here. New York is one of the most expensive cities in the world, and one of the biggest as well. But what makes it so unique is that it has historically been the commercial and cultural epicenter of the United States, and thus it is viciously competitive and individualistic. In recent years it has become the playground for the already wealthy and well-connected- raising the bar for mice like me even more. Finally, one-third of all New Yorkers are foreign born. The immigrant work ethic out competes anything a horny, power-hungry American boy can ever do. Immigrants are not just driven by money and power, but also by survival and a sense of family duty.

I was immune to this dynamic for the first part of my residency here. I was in school, relationship-ped, and had money saved in the bank. I didn’t care about going to the hottest bars or restaurants, or looking my best to attract the richest man. But then… then… I started to care. Maybe “care” is also the wrong word choice. More like, I’ve been made aware of the competition.

The more one begins to be aware of the ladder, the more he or she begins to see and care about his or her position on it. This endless awareness and competition leads to two things: 1) a real life Sex and the City character (an insecure, immature, neurotic woman), and 2) the braggart (that guy who introduces himself as a “banker”, the guy who “has all these connections.”)

After several months of being aware of this city’s trappings, I had become somewhat sad, insecure, and disillusioned. A lot of people feel this way after a while. They either try to raise the bar and keep the rat race going, or get bored, burned out and leave. I’m feeling a third option: RELAX. I just stopped caring. And you know what? Now I love this city even more.

I’m not so sure I believe Bloomie when he insists he has no intention of running for the presidency. After all. he jumped from the Republican party yesterday and became an Independent. The last time he “party-hopped”, it was to run for Mayor…hmmmm

And just a little while ago he held a press conference touting the success of 311….ahem……

I am imagining an all-NY ticket Clinton vs Giuliani vs, Bloomberg
shades of Ross Perot in ‘92
A subway-series of sorts, but waged all over the country. True, Hillary isn’t a real product of “New Yawk” like Mike and Rudy, and a suburbanite to boot. But a choice between these three could be a “lesser of three evils” for voters around the country who are leery of, hostile to, and even afraid of, anything or anybody that comes out of New York.

As you probably have already noticed, MetroBlogging is having some major technical issues across all cities. Here’s the deal: Early this morning, deep in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain, a bad power supply cable sent our servers into a tailspin. We are well aware of the potential problems this issue poses to world security, and rest assured that people at the highest levels of our government and the United Nations are coordinating with our leadership to fix the problem.

Seriously, though… All should be fine in a few hours. In the mean time, do some work. Your bosses will be happy.

Sewage flows from a toilet on Continental Airlines flight 1970 from Amsterdarm to New Jersey on Thursday, June 14, 2007. Photo by Collin Brock.

If you are just finding your way to this story, please note that there is a now a dedicated blog about Continental Flight 71 / 1970 from Newark to Amterdam called Poop on a Plane

DIGG THIS STORY!

I don’t normally cross post things from my personal site, but seeing as this story is now the front page on the Drudge Report and has been picked up by Seattle news, I figured it was worth tossing into the NYC new arena.

On Wednesday June 13th at around 2:00 pm my boyfriend and I boarded Continental flight 71 from Amsterdam to Newark along with about 200 other passengers. Despite that fact that the flight was only scheduled to be 8 hours, it wasn’t until 32 hours later that we arrived in New Jersey. What happened in between is a tale of massive mismanagement, awful customer service and downright inhumane, unsafe and unsanitary conditions. This was a massive clusterfuck on Continental’s part–a screw up of Jet-Blue proportions; maybe even worse. It’s long and drawn out, just like the actual ordeal itself, and it goes a little something like this:
(more…)

But never fear, we have our crack team of lolcats working on the issues and should be back up and fully functional shortly

First, take the G, R, V, E, or F trains to 74th street, Jackson Heights in Queens. Sit in the middle cars. Then, transfer up to the Manhattan bound 7 train. You will climb I believe 4-sets of stairs and no escalators, have to walk further for the Manhattan bound train so right now you’re set. I did this today and couldn’t believe how the walk would just NOT end.

Once aboard the 7, get off at Grand Central and walk up 2-3 flights of stairs & 1 escalator to end up on Park Avenue and 42nd street.

You will not only be completely awake by this point but you’ll also have done some excellent cardio.

Boy, have I been away for awhile.
I’ve been trying to come up with a “Grand return” to the blog but that’s hardly my style, so I’ll just jump right on in with a piece of news.

I was reading the Metro (for those of you outside the NYC area, the Metro is one of two free daily newspapers, generally handed out by a person outside key subway stations or placed in a free paper bin) this morning and it’s filled with Bloomberg initiatives, including the congestion pricing plan (which was finally endorsed by City Council Speaker Christine Quinn).
The one which grabbed my attention the most, though, is a pilot program that caught on in South America in which our city’s poor would be “rewarded” for engaging in specific actions, receiving tax credits for their children getting good grades in school or going to the doctor.
Now, that whole Nanny State thing has really caught on in our city, with trans fat bans, attempted personal electronic bans, etc. I’m not quite sure what to think about this rewards program. Apparently, it’s been quite successful in South America, with rising doctor visits and improved health among country poor. Will this work here? I would presume that anyone who qualifies for this reward – at least the medical visit reward – qualifies for free or greatly reduced healthcare in the city and at what point does the incentive to go to a doctor finally come to the “not only will we pay for your healthcare but we’ll pay you to go”?
So here I sit on the fence about this initiative. Clearly, we do need programs to entice people to do well in school, get into good colleges, find successful careers, get regular health checkups…but this is so very equivalent of my parents’ attempts to get me to make straight As by offering me dollar amounts per letter grade. It didn’t work then and I can’t help but think it wouldn’t work now.

[image from Fotosearch]

Summerstage is a great, great thing. Having almost no money, I appreciate any free cultural activity this city has to offer me. This Sunday, the Idan Raichel Project gave a concert in central park. For those of you who are not familiar with the band, it happens to be one of the biggest Israeli bands ever.

When I first came into the concert space, I was immediatly given two paper booklets: the first was a Summershare program guide, and the second was a Jews for Jesus pamphlet. Of course they weren’t distributed by the same person, but it was as though I was meant to learn about both of these organizations at this concert.
(Anyway, I’ll be honest and say that Christian groups are always giving me pamphlets. I think it’s because I look so Jewish.)
Five minutes after I was handed the pamphlet, one of the Summershare staff members came to kick out the missionaries. As they were leaving, one girl started yelling at them, “take your garbage out of here!” as she threw the pamphlet back at them. The JFJ yelled back, “It’s got the word of God on it!”
This was a hilarious scene. I love religious altercations!
The concert was great, I suggest you go to one yourself, you might even get converted.