1- Redhook, Brooklyn

2- Greenwich Village, Manhattan

3-Midtown, Manhattan

shot one year ago.

part 2 of 3 - sabbatical explained

names changed to protect everyone.
Part one is here: Sabbatical Explained

"The woman and the doctor decided to see if my victim could walk. She got out of the folding chair and put some weight on her shoeless foot. After two milliseconds or so she lifted her foot and cringed. It is decided she should sit down, if not for her sore foot, simply to avoid stepping on broken glass or God knows what.

The police car came in with minimal commotion at a slow speed and they stopped in front of the scene, taking no care to pull to the side. The lights on the left and right pulsed slowly and the two made their way to us. The officer came out from the passenger side of the car. He’d missed a few years of exercise, but he commanded respect from the moment he got to his feet. He came over and asked for both sides of the story. She, the victim wasn’t much for talking, so I quickly gave him my rundown.

'I uhh, pulled over here to drop her off, and thenn I..' make this brief, 'It was my fault, I didn’t notice the rear door was still open. As I pulled out I heard a scream. I quickly ran over to see what had happened, I ran over her foot.' Maybe I shouldn’t have told him so quickly what I had thought of my guilt, but it was relieving to let the admission out to a good guy such as this officer. I felt very comfortable with this guy. He walked over here and was doing everything by the book, and at the same time nonchalant, as if he’d seen it a dozen times before. Then three more uniformed kids still wet behind the ears arrived. After the officer met the blue’s clues gang, he asked me for my license, my registration, my trip sheet, my trip card, and my hack license. This sounded simple enough, but for some odd reason the garage never puts the registration in the car. I handed him over what I could, and of course since this cop had all his marbles on his top shelf, he immediately asked for the registration again. We then went through a little back and forth, how I have gotten into altercations before, and never have I ever found the registration. I told him I could check the car once more, but it wouldn’t matter.

My brilliant skills of deduction led me to believe I was in trouble. I ran over a woman’s foot, I look like I’m under 21, I drive a yellow cab, I have 5 point’s on my driving license for previous moving violations, and on top of this I am missing the car’s registration, all I had going for me was I was a white male. It seemed to be a sink or swim moment so I called the garage.

Whenever I call the garage one thought swims through my mind as I wait for him to pick up, oh please, please I hope it’s not Lenny. Lenny, a man with a stomach that could stop an ocean liner, and a mouth dirtier than three sailors combined. Lenny has a soft side, but it is completely unpredictable when it comes out. So he picked up :

Lenny- 'Taxi,'

Me- 'Lennyy,'

Lenny- '…Who’s this.'

Me- 'It’s me, Eddy…' no response.. 'Steinway.'

Lenny- 'Oh brother, tell me what’d you fuck up this time?'

Me- 'Well, there’s no damage to the cab..' The police officer stood to my right hearing all of it.

Lenny- 'Woah, woah, woah, cut the bullshit my friend, look buddy I ain’t got all day, give me the whole story here, and give it quick. Don’t suck my d __, you can just f ___ me when you get back okay.'

Me- 'Well I’m gonna need the registration and..'

Lenny- 'No, look man, it’s no big deal, everybody makes mistakes, just talk to him, tell him he doesn’t need to record it, don’t get the cops involved and drive off okay.'

Me- 'Oh it is way passed that point man, the cops are here, and the ambulance is on it’s way and I need the registration.' Normally I don’t push people around, but it was sink or swim.

Lenny- 'Ambulance? What the F-', the cop was getting impatient.

Me- 'This officer here needs the registration, so can you give him the registration number?'

Lenny- 'We don’t put registration in our cars.'

Cop-'It is illegal not to have the registration in your car.'

Me- 'He says we need the registration in our cars. Why don’t we have the registration?'

Lenny- 'It’s a taxi, no garage puts the registration in the cars.'

Me to the cop- 'Do you want to speak to him?' I was getting tired of getting the run around. Maybe the cop should see what I’m dealing with.

Cop- 'Yeah why don’t you give him to me,' The officer shows exceptional patience, without the slightest hint of agitation.

Me- 'Lenny I’m gonna have to hand you over to the officer, he wants to know w-'

Lenny- 'No,no,no I don’t talk to no fucking cop, I don’t talk to nobody, I fu—' The phone is already in the air being handed over.

Cop- 'Hello sir this is officer Hanover, with the xx precinct, do you know it is illegal not to have the registration for your cab sir?'

All I could hear from Lenny was about 7 curse words in a sentence. He was louder and angrier with him than with me.

Cop- 'Sir this is a serious manner, we have a person struck by vehicle here, and you’re not being very helpful.'

Lenny replied with several curse words again.

Cop- 'So that’s gonna be your final word on this. You don’t have it. Okay that’ll be your response.'

Wow, got to give it to Lenny, he didn’t fall back into cowardly position, he never hides his balls, not for nobody. And as for the cop, got to hand it to him too, he maintained composure, never held it against me, never assumed me a criminal, never shouted out Lenny either. The cop gives me the cell phone and turns to his puppy police, the rookies;

“Now what we do is we run the license, see if he has any outstanding violations unpaid for, suspended license, warrants for his arrest, if he has any of these we haul him in and throw him in jail for a night. We’ve got to wait for another squad car with a computer to come in so we can run background. After that I’ve got to file my report, these things take a while and there isn’t much to learn here, so if you three want, you can leave, or hang out if you want.” Cop training sounds like a cakewalk, too bad being a cop isn’t easy.

Then the fire engine pulled in and five men got out wearing their fireproof jackets. It is 2 pm, and 92 degrees Fahrenheit, with about 85% humidity, so it feels like 100. Fire jackets? The thought takes my mind off my troubles. Then the Ambulance arrived."

8 random facts.

I got tagged to do this post by SoCal Cabbie, A blog I visit twice, even three times a week. I can usually count on SoCal Cabbie to post a blog pretty often. He takes the blog thing pretty seriously, having a laptop computer mounted to his console. And I like that you have your photos in a keyword category too now, they're all lookin' pretty good.

As I ween myself from the evil clutches of myspace, a post like this can be pretty theraputic, ahhh blogger. No I'm not giving out my myspace account, that's private!

Meme rules:
1) Post these rules before you give your facts
2) List 8 random facts about yourself
3) At the end of your post, choose (tag) a few blogs, linking to them
4) Leave a comment on their blog, letting them know they've been tagged

fact 1- I'm allergic too:

-dairy
-eggs
- the list goes on, in addition I was raised vegetarian, so that makes me a vegan. If I run out of random facts, this one becomes fact 2

fact 2- I don't know much about cars, but I can recognize almost any automobile distributed in North America by the corner lights from the side, C-pillar, or roof-line. Of course, I can recognize a real NYC taxi for an impostor. I made a hobby of car identification from third grade on, my skills have weakened within the last 10 years though. I used to go to the annual car show and get all the brochures, then I'd take tracing paper and trace the car for about 30 minutes.

Despite being able to identify a Honda Civic from the roof-line, I could walk by a famous actor and never be the wiser. This is 'cause I don't give a damn.

fact 3-What I really wanted to be was an architect. It is the perfect blend of art and purpose. I'm pretty slow at learning math, and I'm pretty slow at doing math too, so I decided to get a degree in photography instead.

fact 4- I became a cab driver because, it sounded like fun, and boy was it. only now I have 5 points on my license, and I still don't have any references for an easier higher paying job. My favorite thing about cabbies is that when you have to cut somebody off, usually they have a curse at you now, smile at you later rule, they don't tend to hold a grudge. when you drive 12 hours a day in New York City, shit has to roll off your back like water.

fact 5-I can read, but it is damn difficult. I went through all of school with A.D.D. privileges. I do everything, I just do it a lot slower. I've got to be interested in something to pursue it. So I've read about 5% of each text book I've received, and I've read 5 books out of all the books I've been assigned in my schooling. You'd be surprised how much you can get from listening in class, and reading Cliff Notes.

fact 6-After public school, I don't refer to anything as "hard". As long as I'm not doing math, or science, or doing a research essay, I think I'm the luckiest guy in the world.

fact 7-I like the Mets (the baseball team from Queens NY), a lot. If your not rooting for an underdog, why are you rooting? The Yankees don't need help from the fans, more importantly they play boring baseball. I think the current manager we've got from the Yankees is doing a great job with the Mets, but I think we lost a little bit of our soul.

oh P.S. The Yankees really do suck now, but we don't have ego problems so we're not rubbing it in your face. We don't have to compensate.

fact 8-I wish the U.S. would give up this game called football, and replace it with... well with football.

I'd Like to pass this chain over to:

Cabs Are For Kissing. Another great blog with reliable postings, see his pictures too.

Post Grad Year: Photographs. A blog posted by a friend who gave me the tour of the school I attended in Boston, before I attended. She posts pictures from New Bedford, a quaint little town by the shore near Boston. Well I call it quaint, people who live there claim they hear gunshots at night. Anyway, me and my parents drove through New Bedford once, and I had dreamed of living in such a town ever since.

Neither More Nor Less. A blog featuring mostly pictures from the East Village, NYC. Bob Arihood shares an attachment to this neighborhood, I assume because it is just another memory that might soon fade away, but that is just my guess. Anyway I choose you Neither More Nor Less, because you are very forthcoming, and I always appreciate your candid posts. On the other hand, please don't fell obligated to repost.

the 411 from the WWW.

I was snooping around some more blogs and have turned completely giddy with excitement, almost angry that I still haven't acted on this yet, Hey Hot Shot. The Jen Bekman Gallery, has just announced the winners of the quarterly contest. Winners get mentioned on websites and featured in the gallery itself.

So why am I so excited? Joe's nyc, an excellent photoblogger has already been featured there, and now Shuli Hallak who looks to have some amazing photographs of cargo ship activity. So I'll be sure to visit the gallery for the opening, and perhaps see a teacher who taught at both schools I attended in Maine and Boston, and get this, that same teacher grew up in my neighborhood here in New York and is also represented by the Jen Bekman Gallery.

Now in completely unrelated news, I just read on 1010 wins (our traffic and news radio station) that the Pulaski Skyway is getting a 10 million dollar renovation. The Pulaski is the best way to Newark Airport from Manhattan. On weekends one lane of two will be closed going inbound (to Newark I guess?) from now 'till December. Once reconstruction is done to that lane, the other direction will get done. 1010 WINS: Pulaski

I can just imagine the hellish experience I may have going to Newark Airport now. Of course I'd rather be late, then be dead. Kudos to New Jersey for finally getting around to fixing this towering demon of a bridge.

Rerun photos:
The Pulaski Skyway

Spring and Bowery

1. Brooklyn Bridge, Downtown Manhattan

2. LaGuardia Airport, Queens

3. Metropolitan Museum of Art, Upper East Side, Manhattan

good taxi blogs

NYC, Cabs Are For Kissing: The Bad and the Beautiful


Las Vegas, Chronicles: xxxvi (7 shorts)


Eugene OR, Through a Windshield Darkly: Just Shoot Me Now


Eugene OR, Through a Windshield Darkly: The Pause That Refreshes


Enjoy it's a good week for blog reading, please don't judge.
As for everyone else on the side bar, if you give a damn, you're all awesome, I read you twice a week, or month, I need my fix.

Taxi sabbatical explained (finally)

“You ran someone over?”

“Well, no. I… just ran over her foot. She was my passenger.”

“So what happened?”

“It was a two person ride, from Korea Town, that little block on 32nd Street, past the Port Authority twice.”

Nobody wants those details, traffic, locations, time span of the ride. What they want to hear is how that split-second moment went down. I am starting to get boring.

”Okay so I dropped off the second woman at a street fair. Since the intersecting street was closed I pulled into that crosswalk nook to avoid blocking traffic. She paid me eleven dollars and scooted off the seat. She took a particularly long time. Entering sunlight hit my right eye as she opened the door. I checked my trip sheet and to my surprise, the start time, beginning location, and end location of my 25th ride was all entered. I looked at the sheet again to enter the end time of the ride, but my mind got cloudy and I forgot what it was I was doing. I went through the checklist in my head:

-Left signal on
-Put car in drive
-Take foot off brake
-Look in left mirror
-Check blind spot

And suddenly: ‘Ahhhhh,” A horrid two syllable muffled scream came through the closed windows and found its way to my right ear. I immediately held the brakes, yanked the shifter and pulled it to park. I opened my door uncertain of what awaited at the rear of the taxi.

There she was, my passenger, on the pavement beside the rear right wheel, clutching her foot. I saw her foot was red around the toes and some minor blisters were present. My worries about her condition began to share headspace with worries about my own status: Would I still drive a cab? Would anybody respect me? Does anybody respect me? Am I going to get sued? Am I going to loose my license, and never be able to drive in this town again? Then I felt guilty for thinking all these things while a woman whom I was hired by got her foot ran over, the nerve of my thoughts to run in only my favor.

3 seconds had passed, since the scream. I shut my rear-right door and checked the back seat to make sure she didn’t leave anything behind, nope, nothing. I may have opened it before closing it. But my thoughts were traveling so quickly; I thought perhaps I was unaware of her door being left open. Perhaps this is how her foot was ran over, she quickly stepped in front of the wheel’s path to shut the door she hadn’t closed yet. I was trying to piece together this mystery before anybody attended to me. We both were dealing with too much shock to talk to each other, we were merely examining this situation.

5 seconds had passed, and three people from the fair arrived. The woman said she had called 911, and the man said ‘I’m a doctor, I’m a doctor.’. The woman pulled out a folding chair from a street fair vendor while the doctor squeezed her foot in various spots. I noticed her right heel, a Gucci, was broken. I thought that maybe I should pay for a new pair of shoes, but then I realized that I probably couldn’t afford a pair. Maybe I could pay for one of them.. nah.

‘I don’t need an ambulance,’ she said, but it was too late, they had already called it in. The woman who provided the chair said it would be good to have it checked out at least, I agreed, for professionalism’s sake.

Due to the neighborhood we were in, the police actually arrived within 2 minutes, quickly followed by a fire truck, and then the ambulance.

The gist of it is all here, but more, at the top of the blog.

How to fix a broken conversation

My ‘friends’ ask me, “So are you still driving a cab?”

To which I reply, “Nope, see I decided to quit after I ran over a woman’s foot.”

Many reactions may follow that answer. Usually the said ‘friend’s’ eyes will widen and their brow rises. If anything good has come from this freak accident, it has been that I now have a good subject for conversation. It seems that recently all of New York wants to talk, but when they open their mouths, a lot of regurgitated business crap spills out. With so many imported New Yorkers, less people have a good story to tell.

My friend just told me his old principle got fired for practicing voodoo in school.

Me: “She did what?”
Friend: “I don’t want to tell everybody, but you’re a good friend. You can tell that story if
you want.”

See, that’s what I’m talking about, crazy shit happens. Crazy stuff happens too often for people to babble about the exact specifics of what they do for a living. The next time somebody approaches you and asks what you do tell them:

“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me on my way over here!”

If they persist to ask you what your job is, tell them either:

A “That is not important,” while using vigorous hand gestures,

OR

B “My job is boring,” while implementing eye contact to convey honesty
(honesty, it’s about time).

And please, please; for the good of the human race, take that line:

“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me on my way over here!”

And run with it. Take it for a spin up a twisted road. Give people something they want to hear. I need to do this more often, this can be our outright assault on boring conversation.

an end to couch potato life?

Wish me luck, I'm going in for an interview with a traffic reporting company tommorow.

Searching

Check out these photo blogers:
Express Train
joe's nyc

Aside from these pictures being amazing most and usually all the time, the blog formats are easy to navigate and elegant in their simple form.

It is clear that blogger.com is just not geared towards a photoblogger. So I may use another blog provider for pictures and keep the writing here. It would be kind of a gamble because blogger's accessability is higher, and the domain names here are easy to remember. Perhaps this is all just petty, and I should just make a website.

I'm really close I feel to posting the story of why I quit taxi driving. And when I post it I may finally overcome the block and start driving a cab again.

Stay tuned because as always, I have so many pictures to show you.
If I start that other photoblog, I'll tell you.

True regards,
Lucky

Midtown, Manhattan

Hilton taxi line

Midtown, Manhattan

something about this: we're on the taxi line at the midtown Hilton, the man with his arms crossed in my sideview is the taxi driver waiting behind me. It is a pleasant way to spend a morning with a cup of coffee, and do some people watching.

Midtown, Manhattan

Midtown, Manhattan

Upper West Side, Manhattan

Woolworth Building

Downtown, Manhattan

This building is note worthy: The Woolworth Building.
Its lobby is gorgeous I believe, though it's been a while since I've been there. When I was a small child my mother and I took an elevator all the way to the top. There was one small office at the very top accessed by a small elevator after a larger one. Then there was a small spiral staircase into the darkness of the old gothic marvel's top. This is a relic of the old times when buildings were made as flags of people's empires. It is said that the Woolworth building is made from jars and jars of nickels and dimes.

Chinatown, Manhattan

Upper East Side, Manhattan

from the workprint box

These are the second tier photographs. I've got about 40 more that I think are interesting for posting, maybe more, all from before this blog was started, last summer specifically. I apologize for the quality, as they are scanned from the crappy prints and not the film.





1. Lower East Side, Manhattan
2. Chelsea/Fashion District, Manhattan
3. SoHo, Manhattan
4. NoHo, Manhattan