TerikKing.com

I highly doubt that anyone living outside of New York City will care much about this post, but I have to express this. So here we go.

Anyone who knows me at all knows how disenchanted I have become with living in this zoo that passes for a city. I can’t get out of here soon enough. In fact, because I’ve already decided that my days here are numbered, I even decided that it would be pointless to vote in the upcoming New York mayoral election that pits Independent/Republican “incumbent” Mike Bloomberg against Democratic Controller Bill Thompson. I had pretty much decided to abstain, and say “to hell with it” and just move out as soon as I finish at The New School in May.  This, despite an inclination as a Black man to exercise my hard-won right to vote even if it seems pointless. The local media has, aside from the airing of paid campaign ads, largely ignored the race, which is a favorable position for a self-financed billionaire incumbent candidate (who also, “coincidentally” owns the media outfit Bloomberg LP).Tonight, however, I’ve changed my tune. Even though it’ll probably be as productive as pissing in the wind, I’m going to waste a couple of hours by going to my polling place and doing my small, insignificant part to try to rid the city of Bloomberg.

I hereby declare publicly that I will throw my vote (away) behind Bill Thompson, even though he probably won’t win and the voter turnout will probably be about 16 people. Why? Here’s why.

1. Bloomberg’s anti-democratic move to circumvent the will of the voters who placed a 2-term limit on elected office for the Mayor.  Apparently Mike seems to think that he knows better than we do whether the term limits were appropriate or not, and, rather than hold a referendum so we can uphold or reverse the law that we upheld twice in two referendums in 1993 and 1996. (See the New York Times’ article Voters Like Mayor, but Not His Path to 3rd Run). While Bloomberg may have curried favor with cosmetic issues like bike lanes (which I think are a joke), fixing potholes and planting trees, there is nothing more insulting, condescending and, once again, anti-Democratic than the path that Bloomberg took to use the City Council and State Legislature  to impose his will over that of the voters. Big Rich Mike knows what’s better for us than we do? I think not.
2. 311 is a joke. Yes, I’m channeling Flavor Flav, but without the tongue-in-cheek radical humor slant.
   As I write this, it is 3am and there are seven loud, drunken Mexicans in my hallway arguing about whatever in front of my apartment. Twice I have had to open my overpriced door to tell them to keep it down. Finally, I’d had enough, and I called 911 (as you would in any other town) to make a noise complaint. Since this is considered a “non-emergency” (though I bet if it were happening in Riverdale instead of Harlem it probably wouldn’t be) I was transferred to another of Bloombastard’s pet projects, the 311 hotline/placebo. After holding for about 8 minutes, a sleepy-sounding operator took a report and read a script saying that the NYPD had up to 8 hours to respond to the complaint, “when officers are available that aren’t responding to emergencies.” So maybe the answer, then, would be for me to open my door, stab one of them, and then call 911 and have it be an emergency, no? But 311 is obviously a way to screen out what the NYPD considers “important” enough to deem an immediate response. Bloomie strikes again.
3. Taxes, taxes, taxes. I have been struggling to quit smoking, as my friends well know. I’m a singer, and I know that cigarettes are a surefire path to Mariah Carey-style vocal triflingness. However, the prices of cigarettes have climbed year after year in this city, now averaging around $9.50-$10.00 per pack. See, every time there is some kind of “fiscal emergency,” the taxes on cigarettes are raised. Even though I might not be a militant pro-smoking advocate, I deeply resent having to pay about $5.25 in government fees to smoke in New York City, which is more than the overall cost of a pack of cigs in such places as Virginia and the Carolinas. If you need to find some money in the budget, find another way other than shaking US down. Maybe there should be a tax per-pound levied against all the overweight tourists that make it so damned impossible to fir into a regulation size seat on the subway. How about THAT, Mr. and Mrs. Obese America? Again…f**k you, Bloomberg.
4. Mr. Environmental Mayor has been stuffing my mailbox with self-funded campaign junk mail EVERY OTHER DAY FOR 3 MONTHS. Again, his money, apparently, talks. And it doesn’t necessarily speak the truth, either. But as long as he has millions of his personal dollars to fund the distortions and a compliant local media that doesn’t bother to challenge it, I guess all is fair, right? (See the Associated Press’ Bloomberg Has Spent $64.8 Million on 3rd Campaign and New America Media’s report that he is on track to spend $100 million in the race.)

I could go on and on, but that won’t help me sleep, which was the original problem in the first place. So yeah, on November 3^rd, Bill Thompson gets my vote. And on May 1, 2010, I call my moving truck. June 1, 2010, is D-Day.

Once upon a time, considering that I’ve spent most of my years living in this city, I would never have imagined that I would have such contempt for the place. I used to love it here. Now, I can’t get out soon enough. Nice place to come, take in a show, do some work (I do work in media, after all), but a HORRIBLE place to live. And I’m done. Y'all can HAVE it.

My lease is up in T-minus 256 days and counting. Can’t happen a minute too soon.