So this is the Big Society?
This evening after work I walked to the bus stop in the pouring rain, and a man said "hiya" to me. So I said "hello" back. For the context of the story, I should explain that the man's behaviour and mannerisms are noticeably odd, but non-threatening - and yes, this is directly relevant. Other people arrive at the bus stop, and the man says "hiya" to each of them, but most of them don't engage with him. One woman actively ignores the man, and tries to avoid looking at him, even though he's standing barely a metre away from her. The man tries again: "hiya". The woman stares right through him. He starts moving closer, until he's right next to her, prodding her arm with his hand which is stretched out as if to offer a handshake, and she's visibly cringing into her coat. Then she finally gets it; she acknowledges the guy's existence by finally saying hello, and having got what he wanted, he backs away from her again. I'm not telling this story because I think I should get a cookie for saying hello to a disabled person, but because I was appalled by the arsehole behaviour of the other people at the bus stop. When another human being greets you in a way that isn't overtly rude or sleazy, it's only polite to reciprocate. In the immortal words of Wil Wheaton, don't be a dick.
All of the venues that we've used for Ladyfest events in the last two years have now either closed, or are going to be closed down in the near future. The Big Red Door folded a few months ago, and now the Forest, the Bowery and the Roxy are all having their buildings sold out from under them. The organisations are going to try to keep going, but commercial rents for anywhere capable of hosting performances or social events are extortionate, so if they manage to survive it'll completely change the way they operate. They won't be able to support new performers in the same way, or let community and activist groups use a room for free until they've got themselves established. The government might not recognise it, but these places are part of our community, and it's horrible watching them disappear.
I'm currently trapped under an epic to-read list. I've finally got some second hand books that I bought online ages ago, but which got lost in the post, and this weekend the Radical Book Fair coincided with payday. The authors of the recent feminist book "Reclaiming the F-Word" (which came out of The F-Word website) were doing a talk, which was very good apart from the bit in the Q&A where a man got up and told them how they should have written it. Mansplaining: just don't do it. Anyway, I bought their book and got it signed - discovering in the process that one of them recognised me as the person who made all the cakes for Ladyfest Edinburgh 09 - a textbook on sensible economics, a history of local mental health services written by service-users, and a graphic novel about the Easter Rising, but that one doesn't really count because it's a present for someone else. I love my books, but I'm less of a fan of being intimidated by my own to-read pile.
My parents have offered to let me have their car while they're away on their Middle-Aged Gap Year Tour for four months. They're planning to spend the colder part of our winter in Australia (via Hong Kong), then touring New Zealand, Hawaii, and the continental US, so it's not like they're going to take it with them. I'm in two minds about it, because it would be quite cool to actually have a car, but I don't want to get too used to it, and their car has a massive engine and a sixth gear, which means it'll cost a fortune to insure, and it's likely to become a gas-guzzling monster when confined to a city where anything above third gear is a novelty.
All of the venues that we've used for Ladyfest events in the last two years have now either closed, or are going to be closed down in the near future. The Big Red Door folded a few months ago, and now the Forest, the Bowery and the Roxy are all having their buildings sold out from under them. The organisations are going to try to keep going, but commercial rents for anywhere capable of hosting performances or social events are extortionate, so if they manage to survive it'll completely change the way they operate. They won't be able to support new performers in the same way, or let community and activist groups use a room for free until they've got themselves established. The government might not recognise it, but these places are part of our community, and it's horrible watching them disappear.
I'm currently trapped under an epic to-read list. I've finally got some second hand books that I bought online ages ago, but which got lost in the post, and this weekend the Radical Book Fair coincided with payday. The authors of the recent feminist book "Reclaiming the F-Word" (which came out of The F-Word website) were doing a talk, which was very good apart from the bit in the Q&A where a man got up and told them how they should have written it. Mansplaining: just don't do it. Anyway, I bought their book and got it signed - discovering in the process that one of them recognised me as the person who made all the cakes for Ladyfest Edinburgh 09 - a textbook on sensible economics, a history of local mental health services written by service-users, and a graphic novel about the Easter Rising, but that one doesn't really count because it's a present for someone else. I love my books, but I'm less of a fan of being intimidated by my own to-read pile.
My parents have offered to let me have their car while they're away on their Middle-Aged Gap Year Tour for four months. They're planning to spend the colder part of our winter in Australia (via Hong Kong), then touring New Zealand, Hawaii, and the continental US, so it's not like they're going to take it with them. I'm in two minds about it, because it would be quite cool to actually have a car, but I don't want to get too used to it, and their car has a massive engine and a sixth gear, which means it'll cost a fortune to insure, and it's likely to become a gas-guzzling monster when confined to a city where anything above third gear is a novelty.