I wish there were some way that the citizens of the District of Columbia could vote the sports master out of office in November 2004. While Mayor Anthony A. Williams is leader of our city—or should I say of the upper-class new residents—the middle- and lower-income classes have very little say in having our needs addressed. In a time when the economy is shaky, unemployment on the rise, we middle- and lower-income residents don’t stand much of a chance of relishing what is perceived to be the big event of baseball (“The Big Whiff,” 10/22).
At some point, I will have to decide if I want to allow myself to fall behind on my bills in order to see the so-called spectacle of the phantom American Dream game—which merely consists of men hitting a ball with a bat. And all at the expense of my hard-earned tax dollars, the quiet employment I will no longer have, and the reduction of government services I was barely getting in the first place. On top of all this, we D.C. taxpayers are being repeatedly told that the residents of the District of Columbia won’t bear a penny of the costs associated with the purported baseball stadium, which will rest in areas of Southwest that will require many residents and business owners to be displaced.
We have to ask ourselves why the Williams administration is continuing its mission of selling D.C. residents down the tubes. One thing is for sure: Every time a D.C. government official makes a phone call, uses a government vehicle, or conducts any business pertaining to baseball, D.C. taxpayers will pay through the nose. We already pay some of the highest taxes in the nation. However, alas, we can anticipate paying more. In the meantime, real-estate monopolists and Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs officials will continue to work together to do absolutely nothing about the depressing landlord/tenant problems that continue to plague renters in the District of Columbia.
I am all rented out, peace out, quiet out, and unnerved with the thought that the self-serving D.C. government thinks that the citizens of our fair—or should I say unfair—city can’t read between the lines of the changing demographics and government attitudes. Gone are the days when we can rely on our government officials to hear our cries and lift a finger to do anything other than phone real-estate monopolists and heartless landlords. Infringing on my peace of mind and stripping my purse strings are huge prices of admissions to a baseball game. What will be next, being dragged to the city blood bank?