The old adage of “vote early and often” is at least half true now in New York City, as the city has instituted early voting this year. This past Saturday the 26th was the start of an early voting period leading up to the Tuesday, Nov. 5 election day.
The last few election cycles have shown us that no corner of the country is immune from serious voting issues. The mid-term election of 2018 was the first time I saw this voting chaos first-hand in the five boroughs. I voted early in the morning, when there are usually fewer people around and voting should be smoother, and there were already difficulties handling the moderate numbers at the polling station. That only got worse as the day wore on, and reports of long line and other logistical issues were crossing the wires by midday.
The mess of the 2018 election caused a series of reforms in New York City around voting, one of them being instituting early voting.
Early voting has been a solution adopted by other states. It encourages participation as many people who work (just about every single voter) often find it hard to take time off during a busy workday to vote, and this has become increasingly difficult as larger turnouts have overloaded polling places across the country. It’s an idea that is long overdue in being implemented, and many states began making this change in the wake of the 2000 presidential election difficulties. Early voting is friendlier to working families and make it more difficult for voter suppression tactics to rule the day. It also helps reduce some of the voting chaos by alleviating some of the crowding of Election Day.
It is wise to start early voting this year. Whatever goes wrong can be corrected in time for next year, an election year that promises a very large turnout. This is not a big election year in New York – there are no Congressional seats up for a vote, a special election for one City Council seat, and only one city-wide election for public office (for Public Advocate), as well as a smattering of ballot initiatives that rarely generate significant turnout or excitement.
So far there have been two major kinks in the city’s early voting: 1. In many cases the early voting place is not in the same place as the regular polling stations, and this has not been widely explained. 2. Some early voting locations that are located in schools gave those schools very short notice that their gyms or cafeterias were going to be off limits for a few days.
Another shortcoming of the early voting so far is the notices sent to voters. Usually the city sends a document that includes a detachable card that has all the relevant voter information on it: where to vote, what district you are in etc. The card sent before early voting has none of this, but does have a scan-able bar code on one side.
In a democracy, voting is a serious obligation for people who wish to remain free. The ballot box is our first defense against tyranny, our first step in making change, and the ultimate check and balance for people in power to be held accountable. By giving us more time to do it, this important duty is easier to execute. Whatever the faults of the city’s first attempt, it is a noble attempt and deserves our support.
Madison Square Garden has hosted countless concerts over the past decades, and this past weekend it featured a sold out punk rock show.
The Misfits held what is supposed to be the last of the shows billed as the “Original Misfits” even though only two original members are playing. The difference being original lead singer Glenn Danzig has returned to sing these old songs.
Few musical figures are as universally admired and detested by their own fans as Glenn Danzig. So much of what’s been publicized about him over the last few decades has painted him as an egotistical jackass. Shoving the singer of an opening band and deservedly getting knocked out for his trouble; going after photographers at shows, screwing over fans—take your pick of “Danzig is an Asshole” moments.
But no matter how much of a jerk Danzig may be, there is no denying the power and durability of Misfits songs. Only the Ramones harnessed more influence with three-chords. And while the Ramones helped launch the punk genre, the Misfits and Glenn Danzig’s subsequent bands have held tremendous sway over both punk and heavy metal. I had not seen the Misfits until this past weekend and I’ve played in Misfits cover bands for the past 15 years because the songs are great, easy to learn and very fun to play.
The “Original” Misfits held several shows throughout the U.S., including a sold-out show in Newark, New Jersey last year that required attendees to lock up their mobile phones during the show (plenty of photos and videos of the show made their way online).
Tickets to the Madison Square Garden show cost upwards of $250 in some instances. I managed to get a ticket the day of the show in an upper tier seating level for under $100 (listed as $61 on StubHub and came to $85 after fees). The bill also featured two very prominent punk rock bands: The Damned, one of the first-generation punk rock bands from the U.K., and Rancid, a very popular ska-punk band from California.
By the time we got into the Garden, The Damned were already playing. We went our separate ways as our tickets dictated and readied ourselves for an evening of punk rock.
The Damned were excellent and played all the songs people wanted to hear. Their set was tight and they were a lot of fun. They have been around, absent a few years hiatus, since the mid-1970s. “Not bad for a bunch of old cunts,” said lead singer Dave Vanian. “And we’re pretty good too!”
Rancid played next and ripped through a tight set of fan favorites. Tim Armstrong looks like the kind of Bowery drunk that never learned how to groom his beard, and lumbered around like he was about to fall flat on his face, but then he would play some sweet lead riffs and hit every note. Lars Frederiksen gave a nice shout out to some of his favorite New York hardcore bands, and watching Rancid’s bass player Matt Freeman play is almost worth the price of admission alone.
Punk rock wasn’t created in large venues. It was born from seedy clubs in New York and London at a time when the rock and roll featured in stadiums had become a bloated parody of itself. The kind of loud, in-your-face sound that punk perfected is difficult to reproduce in a venue as large as Madison Square Garden. The Misfits didn’t have the big sound I expected. The songs were tight enough (and much tighter than any old footage you find of them in the 1980s when they were generally sloppy live).
If I had not gone to see the Misfits, I would have regretted not making the effort. They played well enough that I left not feeling ripped off. We may not get a chance to see this lineup again, and the songs are as excellent now as they were when I first heard them.
Remember that almost every musician you see gloating onstage in a large venue has at some point hauled their own equipment into a shitty club to play for five people. Every aging rock star jackass in leather pants riding in a limousine at some point sat on the floor of a van for hours only to be stiffed by a shitty promoter in a city they didn’t know.
At some point the Misfits were nobodies from New Jersey playing loud and sloppy shows to few fans. No matter what lawsuit-driven stupidity brought us these Misfits shows, none of this would matter if the songs they created were not amazing.
All the skulls and spooky theatrics can’t carry you if your songs aren’t good, and Misfits songs are excellent and have stood the test of time. While the “Original” Misfits are an imperfect echo of a past time, Misfits songs are a loud jolt of energy and fun for a world that needs it.
In early March of 2000, I found my way from Ozone Park to Sunnyside, Queens, for the inaugural St. Pat’s for All Parade. The parade was unique because it welcomed LGBT groups to participate. Most other St. Patrick’s parades at the time did not.
It was the first St. Patrick’s parade I marched in, representing a human rights group that monitored the contentious marching season in the North of Ireland. The parade included many of the standard Irish groups and local politicians but also featured an LGBT marching band, a traditional Korean dance troupe, and other organizations that are not strange in Queens but do stand out in a St Patrick’s Day parade. The parade gathered news coverage (Hillary Clinton was there, running for Senate) and a few religious protesters upset that St. Patrick’s name was being use to make friendly with the gays.
During the march, I noticed a Catholic priest in a brown robe shaking hands with people aside the parade route. Oh no, I thought to myself, what litany of lies did the parade organizers tell this poor priest to get him here? He’s going to have a heart attack when he sees the gay marching band.
But that priest did not have a heart attack upon seeing the gay marching band. The priest was Father Mychal Judge.
Father Judge is most famous for being the New York Fire Department chaplain who perished in the September 11 attacks; he is listed as the first official casualty of that day. But long before his untimely death, Father Judge was a bridge between the multitudes of New York communities. At a time of increasing hostility between the Catholic Church’s leadership and LGBT groups, he made it part of his mission to minister to gays and lesbians and people with AIDS. He was dedicated to helping the homeless and people suffering drug and alcohol addiction, and he led a peace mission in Ireland. Few others would have been able to shake hands with cross-wielding protesters and break bread with a gay marching band on that same morning in Queens.
In his last homily, delivered the day before he was killed at the World Trade Center, he spoke to firefighters in The Bronx. He spoke about the unpredictable nature of life and how everyone has their part to play, that each one of us has a place.
“That’s the way it is. Good days. And bad days. Up days. Down days. Sad days. Happy days. But never a boring day on this job. You do what God has called you to do. You show up. You put one foot in front of another. You get on the rig and you go out and you do the job – which is a mystery. And a surprise. You have no idea when you get on that rig. No matter how big the call. No matter how small. You have no idea what God is calling you to. But he needs you. He needs me. He needs all of us.”
September is freshly ended and with it, most of the commemorations of the September 11 attacks. One of the best traditions, the Stephen Siller Foundation Tunnel to Towers 5k, is held the last Sunday in September.
On a rainy October evening, I was making my way home from midtown after a long workday. A fire engine was driving down the street and was stuck at an intersection of 6th Ave. and 31st Street. Despite having the right of way, the firefighter at the wheel waved pedestrians across.
I discovered I was crossing Father Mychal F. Judge Street, a segment of West 31st that runs past his church, St. Francis of Assisi. It was named in his honor in 2002. FDNY Engine 1/Ladder 24 station is nearby. It would have been disrespectful to ignore the sign and continue on with the regular rush of the afternoon commute. I stepped out of people’s way and took a photo of the sign.
There are few New Yorkers who represent the resiliency and humanity of our city the way Father Mychal Judge did. His sacrifice has special meaning for firefighters and those who lost loved ones in the September 11th attacks, but the life he lived symbolizes the best of us and serves as an inspiration the world over. It always will.