Trees, Steve Loved

Steve's Words:

The driver, the
trees, the sun and the seasons.

Yesterday I named three favorite winter trees at 86th and 5th Ave -
"reaching, curling and spreading".

I've gotten so I love trees. When I first got my glasses in about the fifth grade, I came out of the
optometrist's to realize that I could actually see the individual leaves. I had come to see trees as little kids draw
them - circles of green on trunks of brown.

It was before disease stripped the Midwest of its American elms, which really did make cool arched boulevards of our
modest main streets. Old towns now look like denuded suburbs.

Before that only many decades or the big winds near tornados
could kill off a few of them.

In my backyard there was a huge one which took several kids
to touch hands around.

When we learned to get to its lower limbs with a rope, we
began to build a tree house in a very high crotch. My dad took over and built a
big, solid one, much lower down. For beams he used the varnished hardwood
pieces of a big old pipe organ, which had just been replaced in the next door
church where he was pastor. He did not view little kid helpers as actually
helpful or safe, which I understand, but also regret.

Today, in New York City, I often reverse "you can’t see the forest
for the trees". Here they stand
more isolated, individual.

In winter we can see the fabulous differences of their limb
structure. Since they've been cared for and pruned over their decades of life,
I sometimes wonder if an old arborist could say, "Now that's pruned in the
Mendelssohn manner. And you can see O'Neal's work in that one."

The isolation and care of our trees in Central and Riverside Park and around the Natural History museum may
explain why we enjoy some of the few stands of these magnificent trees which
remain in North America.

We all enjoy the first leaves in the spring. The green that
will later seem uniform at first has great various beauty, just as the fall
dying leaves draw bus tours to Vermont,
but may be less noticed in the midst of our city.

Then of course there are the many stages of a tree's cycle
of renewal that each species present to us as the days grow longer, and then
shorter.

If we look up close, we can see the wonderful little
structures that nature has constructed over ages to give each tree the best
chance to live on.

Horse Chestnuts are my favorites. Lindens are good too.

As well as the changes over the warmer months, each day
trees present many different views to us. At high noon, the shade of their
leaves cools us, but obscures the tree's details.

But as the sun lowers, its light cuts between the leaves and
lets us glimpse the structure that we love so much in winter.

These are things I've learned to see over time as I grew
older. Who says there’s nothing to look
forward to. Just like the little piece
of white paint that looks like a gold ring on the finger of a Rembrandt
portrait.
---------------------------

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

SMILE by Steve


Old Good Samaritan 
seeks to thank a younger member of the same tribe 
for return of his wallet.


This 68-year-old white haired man had stopped by for his regular Gray's Papaya at 72nd and Broadway. As usual he carried his treat to nearby Verdi Square Park. He then went to Trader Joes only to discover he had misplaced his wallet.  He quickly retraced his steps to his park bench and then to Grays. No luck. He told people that whenever he found something of value he tracks the owner down and returns it.  He hoped the same might happen to me. The looks were polite but skeptical. 
He returned to his home close to Zabars on West 80th St. where he was meeting a friend. The elevator man said he had an attractive female visitor. "That does not describe my friend." When I got off the elevator a very attractive young brown skinned woman asked me my name. I gave the right answer. My wallet had beaten me home. 

I was overjoyed. I told her of a widening practice of mine of telling people to return kindness, large or small, to a "stranger down the road.  What goes around, comes around." 

She said maybe some would come her way.  This is where my haste betrayed me. She had given her first name. I was not familiar with the name. I should have asked her to give me her name or call me later so I could return her help to me in some more substantial way.

The city has a lost and found service. Call the 20th precinct, give your name and number and I will call. I've left out enough details so I'll know if a call is real.

A few years ago, I found a lonely $100 bill on the floor of the West Side Market.  How was I supposed to find the owner?  My thinking was slowed by the temptation to keep it.
Then I walked through the market asking in a slightly raised voice, "Did anyone drop something?" "A couple of wise guys asked if it was a $20. When I got to check-out a woman was frantically looking through her purse. She had the right answer. She was a housekeeper whose employer had given her the money to buy groceries.  That was a sweet one. 

So please do not call if you're not the right person. I'll know and your name will go on a different list.

Recently a small exercise of this practice gave me a once in a lifetime reward.  I was having a coffee and a smoke on a stoop.  A man approached and said I would not remember him, but he would never forget me.  A few years before he had been way down on his luck -drinking, drugs, jail. He'd asked me for a dollar and I'd given it.  To his thanks, I'd replied, as is my practice, When you get the chance just return it to a stranger and never underestimate the value of your smile."
He told me, "It wasn't the dollar. It was the part about the smile. That changed my life. I'd been a licensed electrician. I got things together a bit/. I heard (a large, semi-public employer) needed electricians. I went to the boss, showed him my papers, and told him about where I was coming from. And I told him about you.  The boss said, Well, I'll know in an hour or two days if you can do the job, so let's get the work.  I've been working there since.  

"Pretty often if the weather's nice I walk uptown to home. It saves a little money, gives me a little exercise and there's nice coffee places through here. But I've also been looking for you.  I knew I'd see you some day. So never underestimate the value of your smile."

Ezaido workers in El Salto, Mexico -- by Steve Kindred


In 2002, the world’s Number Two tire-maker, Continental, decided to close its “Ezaudi” factory in El Salto, Mexico, outside Guadalajara.  Its thousand workers said, “This factory should stay open.”  

But workers always say that. And plants usually close nonetheless.

Yet on February 18, 2008, the Ezaudi workers will celebrate three years of successful, worker-controlled operation of the El Salto tire plant.  How did it happen?

The tale is long and instructive. Labor Notes plans to publish the full story, with all the details. In the meantime, here is the short version.

1. The union local had been independent since World War II.  Most Mexican unions are huge, with historical connections to the PRI, the dominant ruling party. Most are bureaucratic; many are corrupt.

2. The Ezaudi union, however, had always been democratically run. In the 1990s, it had elected militant, politically aware leaders who had been part of a local coalition of union activists similar to Labor Notes in the U.S.

3. Acting decisively when faced with elimination, the union immediately declared a strike against the plant. It achieved great success in persuading the vast majority of employees to turn down the German-owned company’s “low-ball” offer—a lump-sum payment, traditionally offered in place of unemployment insurance. But the workers understood the message: “Take the cash. Lose any rights.” 

They organized themselves—meetings, marches, rallies, pickets. They appealed to other workers in their area and across Mexico for aid and solidarity. The response was good.

When the company went to court, the workers responded with a legal strategy that cited some old, rarely enforced laws protecting workers.  Despite opposition by the government of Vicente Fox, the union won a decision barring company removal of machinery while the strike was on.

The union appealed for solidarity internationally. [sk- I want to leave this in, even if the role of our help is unclear. Sk – “Before they went to a Union conference in Brazil, Dan LaBotz, a frequent Labor Notes contributor and author of “The Troublemakers Handbook” and “Mexican Labor, provided the name of a contact in Brazil.]

With labor union contacts they made in Brazil, the workers went to Germany and met with human rights organizations, German Watch and FIAN International, and with the German metallurgical union.  With the help of their new German friends, they made another trip to state their case at Continental’s stockholders meeting, a move that received substantial publicity.

Because Continental was a sponsor of the upcoming 2006 World Cup in Germany, [Have 4 years elapsed already?  You need a couple of intermediate dates for this to make sense as a sequence] the publicity came at a good time for the union. 

The strike, the legal fight, the solidarity and the publicity had gone on for three years. Management gave up.

Continental gave 50 percent ownership to the union and 50 percent to the tire distributor. But all the distributors want is tires. [and had no interest in running the plant] Who knows how to make tires? The workers now run the factory.  It turns out all those supervisors and bosses really weren’t as vital as they thought. Production has tripled since 2002.