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You gotta see these in reference to Barack Obama being elected late on Tuesday Night:
However shocking this all is, while we all voted overwhelmingly for Mr. Obama, most of us stayed at home like good citizens. As usual it was quiet as a mouse in good ol' Staten Island, just as it was quiet when the Giants won the Super Bowl. Some may think we don't care, no we care, but the whole borough always wakes up really early to get to work in the morning. My downstairs neighbor, a teacher, unleashed a scream when the electoral college climbed above 270. Me and my room-mate just sat there in silence, we couldn't believe it.
Even now that 2 days have past, I look around on the subways and I still can't imagine that the entire north-east of America had voted, let alone our city, for the African-American, anti-war, pro-choice, young senator. I am ecstatic, but in all of this excitement I am not sure who to be mad at anymore. My government has been surprising me more and more in this past year: I've had the IRS give me an extra 300 dollars because I forgot to file a section on the form correctly, the Post Office handled my change of address request instantaneously, and the court that called me in for jury duty accepted my excuse that I was no longer a resident of Manhattan County and did so with relative efficiency, Oh, and did I forget to mention, Obama won??!!!!!!!
Now let's hope that he can flip the economy (that should take a while), take less taxes from the poor, give health care to all citizens, and maybe just maybe give us a higher mile per gallon taxi regulation.
I somehow wound up in possession of this dollar bill. I imagine it was exchanged countless times before and after some slut, I mean, genius, wrote their number on it. This has got to be the worst idea in P.R. (Phone Relations). More people come to contact with this dollar than they do with any single bathroom.
It is time for me to talk about myself, which is a bit off course from what the taxiblog format is, but I enjoyed divulging some history of myself. When you get tagged it is only polite to forward your own blog post so that all of the strangers who read your blog can know more about you and then make fun of you Hah!
G.S. was the first taxiblogger to comment on my blog and link to my blog about a year and a half ago, when I first started this blog. When looking for some inspiration, or an interesting story, his blog is the first one I go to. I'd go there if I were you.
The rules are you post six interesting things about yourself, and if you get stuck, just bend the rules and write anything. Uhh yeah, sorry I got stuck. Then mention six other bloggers you hope might send this forward. - I’m a vegetarian; actually I’m a vegan. I was raised an herbivore on top of my allergies to milk and various nuts and seeds. The allergies make me different from the typical vegans and vegetarians, since I never chose this lifestyle as a rebellion from my parents or society as a whole. Rather, I grew up feeling ostracized and struggling always to find something to eat, all the while saving up allowances while all my peers spent their change on candy. Yeah I guess I could’ve eaten a lot of candy, but my parents were afraid I wouldn’t know the difference between the food with milk and the foods without, so I grew up with good teeth, all the while hearing things like, “Wow, you’ve never eatin’ ICE CREAM, my god how do you live.” To which I would reply, “I’ve never eatin’ it, so how would I know if I like it?” It has only been recently that health food has gained popularity, and so it has been much easier to find food now, at a popular, expensive, price. Okay, okay one more thing I need to whine about, I hate health food restaurants, they think everything should be doused with either tahini, (which is a high concentration of sesame seeds whipped to a spread) or cooked in sesame oil. The other restaurants that lack skills tend to make everything with butter, which is an allergy I am becoming more immune to over time. I am most comfortable eating at a vegan friendly Mexican restaurant.
- I got a BFA in photography. So why am I a cabbie? Well getting a job in photography isn’t easy, it’s all about telling people how good you are, and about getting lots of people to talk about you to one another and then bouncing from one job to another. Personally I have a conscious problem with talking about my skill, my work. To explain one’s work briefly with small words is one thing, but to try to drop as many big words, and big names as possible isn’t my style. I prefer cab driving, because unlike so many other chosen fields, there are no self-righteous interviews, no recommendations, no experience. All it is; is myself, a taxicab, and a shit load of temporary responsibility. As a cabbie I am only judged for my efficiency and no bullshit in between.
- I was born and raised in New York City, but people have a problem believing that. The taxicab though creates and builds upon some mythical urban edge that I almost have or improvise, as people’s questions get dumb. My answers get sharper only to save time as we fight traffic. Sometimes I wonder, have I actually gained a spark of wit from driving this boat? Or are these the most witless sheep to march in? Nonetheless for those who can see through the taxi, I appear completely and utterly un-New York, with no engrained repression, no accent (unless I put one on), and no impatience (well not until you don’t know where you are going). Oh by the way, I love getting directions, by receiving directions, I know you have your head on straight, and I might learn a faster route.
- Much related to having grown up in New York City, I must say a little something about the neighborhoods I have lived in while in the city. The city is way to big to bring generalizations about the whole place. Growing up in various neighborhoods can yield completely different educations, careers, passions, attitudes, wealth, and etcetera. I grew up in the East Village in Manhattan. I was shocked not long ago when a classmate of mine in Boston told me that I must be rich to have been raised in New York, I mean shit, ya might as well call me a Jew or assume that the whole city is made of lawyers, doctors, and agents (I am a Jew BTW, so I was commenting on her anti-semitism, not my own). In case anybody is wondering, a city cannot succeed with only one class of people; it thrives with both a ooober high class, and a dooooober low class as well. As a family we have always existed somewhere in the middle to lower-middle class. Anyway, I have no idea what wealth really means unless you are filthy stinking rich, it is all relative. The typical rents now fetch 2000 for a one bedroom, but most attention is paid to the part of town everyone knows. I have managed to find a rent that would even seem cheap in middle America, and back in the 80’s when this city was rising from the status of cesspool, people could live in SoHo and pay 60 per month. So somebody tell Tia that I am not rich. What, do you think I drive a taxi for pure joy? Well, actually it is kinda fun. Phew that was a tangent, the point is that many people do not understand the many different lives that can be experienced in such a city. Most children aren’t raised in midtown, and all residential neighborhoods have a miraculous way of isolating the children from such a complex size of the city, it is really impossible to comprehend for a child until they hit Junior High.
- All right I”ll make fact number five simple, after the East Village, we moved to Stuyvesant Town. Stuy-Town was the model for Housing Projects. In an age where everything was a huge project, the city looked at Stuyvesant Town’s green space and mass housing accommodations as a solution to housing the lower class. This was at first a great plan, however over time the most important element of housing projects was overlooked, THE BUDGET. While Stuyvesant Town always kept the neighborhood in good conditions, the subsidized housing projects were neglected, and deteriorated quickly. Actually Stuyvesant Town was completely different from the housing projects even though they look the same. Stuyvesant Town was built after World War Two and put a priority on housing the veterans of the war. To build the neighborhood they demolished an entire shantytown of Blacks and Irish, oh but it gets worse, Stuyvesant Town had a history of refusing minorities as tenants. Previously owned by the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company, Stuy-Town would establish playground rules where park supervisors would watch children and tell them not to slide head first on the slides, or not to play hardball in parks too small for hardball. Instead of tennis, a game with a half deflated ball was only allowed on the tennis courts, in addition, all games with a ball were to only be played in playgrounds designated for such use. There was and still is no bicycle riding allowed. Fortunately times have changed, Stuyvesant Town was sold for more than a billion dollars to a different management company and is now being completely re-gardened and plowed constantly, There are video cameras and key cards being used now for doors to investigate tenants who may not live there full time. Each apartment is moving up to market rate, which is probably 2000 per bedroom per month, and so it is beneficial to kick out every tenant possible to make way for younger and richer people.
- And now to where I live now; Staten Island. When talking about New York City, New Yorkers will raise there voice and straighten their posture while naming all that is good with their entire existence, but New York’s biggest secret is Staten Island, the 5th borough of NYC’s 5 boroughs, it is about the same size as Brooklyn, and it connects to Brooklyn with the our country’s largest span suspension bridge. What this Borough has going good ends pretty much there. If you’ve seen the suburban houses all in pleasant rows from the city line all the way to the end of Long Island, and throughout the entire state of New Jersey, then You might as well skip Staten Island. In fact Staten should be a part of New Jersey in my opinion. They wanted the Statue of Liberty, and they got Ellis Island. Nobody came to America to live in Jersey, and likewise, nobody came to America to live in Staten. The said, I love it on the island. I get to ride my bicycle through the hills to the beach, and a lot of the houses are beautiful Victorian style in some disrepair. Most commonly Staten Island is known for it’s Italian population and most of the residents I assume are in blue collar or pension plan work. Still there are many others who live only Island because it is the last affordable haven. There are still hints of old New York in the Staten Island accent, which is a cross between Long Island, northern New Jersey, and a little Brooklyn for flavor. And the prices, did I mention the prices. Now if only we had some decent transportation, and a decent place to get some good food.
The Six Bloggers tagged are:
Paradise Driver - The Taxi Driver in Hawaii, with a good sense of humor, and word has it, he's going to be an english teacher in Korea, the good Korea, I'm not good at geography, nor do I care to look it up, I know, America today humph, lazy bastards like me who don't look things up. BTW Good luck on your new endeavor.
Taxi Talk - His Canadian town is riddled with drugs, prostitutes, and ya know, danger, darkness, et-cetera, et-cetera, Really?? well shoot, I'm canceling my trip to Canada. Rated the best taxi driver in Edmonton Canada. He keeps the language raw so make sure your innocence can click the I accept profanity button. Are you still driving the cab?
trog - The college people are invading New York City Damn it! but I want to hear about their lives. This blog is written by a friend who graduated the art school up in Boston, who is now down in NYC with a whole bunch of my alumni friends from up north.
Keep Up - Abby gave me the tour of the school in Boston, which I cleverly fail to mention 'cause it sucked balls, but Abby was alright. GodsHomeMovies - Yet another alumni who makes the school look brilliant, writes of real inspirations and interest and is one of the few to question What the fuck they're doing from time to time, and pull out always with great composition, gorgeous color, well thought out concept, and just all around good photographs, now if only they drove a taxi.
JezBlog - Jez Coulson, I doubt will stoop to the low level of writing such a post on his professional photoblog. I had the pleasure of having Jez ride around in my cab and shoot as much as he could. His shots from that day are here, and here, and if you want to find all the taxi shots in his blog, they are here: Taxi Archive
Holy sh$%! Taxi Tales has a whopper of an incident:
The Far West Side
The East Village
The Bowery though, has gone from slum to chic, with the hippin' and the hoppin' clubs, and towers like the one below already finished, with tall european women in height accentuating heels standing taller at the curb reaching for the sky as streams of yellow Crown Victorias vie for attention.
I noticed CBGB's had finally been replaced by The Morrison Hotel, a place with a shop already west of the famous punk location in SoHo, rather than here in ???NoHo?? I'm getting sick of these stupid names. Anyway The Morrison Hotel is a Gallery that sells photographs of famous musicians mostly Rock based. CBGB's, if you don't already know was the famous venue for punk bands, the birth place of New York punk arguably, or not so arguably, a plethora of bands were discovered here, The Talking Heads, Blondie, Possibly the Ramones to name but few. I've never been there, I never liked punk, a category which Talking Heads and Blondie no longer fit into. But none the less, this place will be sorely missed. When I think of all the horrible places that could've replaced the landmark of rock history, The Morrison Hotel seems like the best solution. I have no idea who Jon Varvatos is though, he is opening his designer store jointly with the photo gallery. Designer wear? and punk music? makes me want to drink an Old E(Old English) forty ounce with the beggars and puke it on the floor of such a place. Neither More Nor Less covers the sidewalk melee at the opening.
East Village
Anywhere in Manhattan
I've told you before, I'll tell you again, don't leave your bikes unattended. This is a common site anywhere in the five boroughs, not to mention even Boston where I naively locked my bike outside for too long and never saw it again.
The East Village
A wall of weak plywood and a chain-link fence walls off what was once a community garden, a mainstay for years, teaming with carefully tended to species of plant-life. In this corner, like so many other community gardens, only two or three steps needed to be taken inside before the visitor was transported.
Taxes, sorry guys, I got stories pending, but unable to finish them with the sleeping and the taxes taking up valuable time.
Got messages from two NYC taxi internet people this week:
One from Yellowcabnyc who wants me to put a photoblog on the site. I'm all for doing that while still keeping my own here. He hasn't gotten back to me yet so we'll see. Go ahead and click on it, it's a valuable source for all NYC taxi news. Now I'm sure there are even greater sources, but I don't know of any.
And another from taxinyc.tv, wow. He wants to talk taxi, great site, has anybody shown the process of getting the taxi license with more detail and entertainment? And it's just the beginning.
So while I'm being a lazy asshole check those two links out. No, no I don't talk like that with customers.
Maybe You'll like:
GODSHOMEMOVIES
A friend from that school/_!_? I attended in Boston has a photoblog worth seeing. Especially if you like to see the unique America we all know and sometimes love.
My whole sidebar is jam packed with sites and blogs worth looking at, so surf that sidebar.
cheers yall
Two taxibloggers have both posted some interesting material referencing the NYC taxi miscellaneous.
Taxi Tales out of Cumbria, UK, has posted these three gems. Ford is supposedly pushing their european van for the replacement to our Crown Victoria. I mentioned in my new police car post, the Crown Vic' is slowly retiring from production. It is an issue that I promise to soon post about myself, but I need to research it more and post a big juicy blog full of pictures. So I'll get on that eventually. Taxi Prototype
In New York Cab Tips A video helpfully advises tourists on proper manners for taking a NYC taxi. The video is very up to date, and I pretty much agree with everything said on the video. I only add that cabbies with their off duty light on are either on a break, or ending their shift. Therefore it is at this time that cabbies will only take riders if they are on the way to their taxi garage or home. Also most New Yorkers will not be familiar with the taxi fare you will be charged, so don't ask them. I suggest instead that you ask a cabbie you can trust i.e. me, or G.S., who writes a very good New York taxi blog too.
Bob of Taxi Tales also posted this great video King Lear, calling attention to the violent crimes on taxi's through the UK, using a piece by Davidson Garrett, a taxi poet of our humble City.
- When walking in Times Square, wait what are you doing in Times square?
- As I was saying, while walking you stop without thinking about all the foot traffic you are blocking. "You can't just stop in the middle!" A street smart tourist from across the Atlantic once stated.
- While driving, ahem, ahem, where are you going to park your car? don't drive in the city please.
- While driving, you stay in the middle lane, talk on your hand held cell phone, converse with your family, look for parking, and look up at the buildings, all while maintaining a speed of 15 miles per hour or less. Watch out for the cab cutting you off and changing four lanes at once.
- When you find a parking spot, you think you have the right to change four lanes at once too. Are you big and yellow? No, I don't think so.
- That parking spot you're parking in has a fire hydrant... oops.
- You park four feet from the hydrant, because that's what they do where you're from. That is not far enough
- You make sure to leave at least one car length between you and all the cars around you. I do this too sometimes, but heavy traffic calls for closer distances.
- You have a manual transmission. What is a manual transmission?
So in the previous post I mentioned that all the DKNY bicycles were all stolen already, they lasted about a week. If you want advice on how to keep a bike in NYC it is to.... - make it unattractive: achieved usually by wrapping with black tape, or innertube/ rubber material.
- make sure the bike is as hard as possible to disassemble: exchange quick releases for bolts, or place locks over all releases, and chains locking the bike seat to the frame.
- Lock your bicycle with two completely different locks: preferably a small U-lock, and a heavy chain lock. It is best if both locks lock both the bike frame and a wheel. At least one lock must be locked to a secured object. Scaffolding can be disassembled, bicycles if improperly locked can be hoisted over parking meters, and parking meters can be removed from subway grates. If you get a chain lock, get a THICK and HEAVY one, I kicked one of the orange Donna Karen bikes, and it fell to the side walk. I returned 5 minutes later and it was gone, the chain lock must have broken.
- Do not lock your bike to iron gates in front of residences in Manhattan, the police sometimes confiscate the bikes.
- It may help to get your bike registered with the police department to certify that it is yours and track it if it's stolen.
- If you can help it, don't lock your bike outside, and if you have to, don't leave it alone for too long.
This all said, this is one of, if not the, safest cities in the world, but we still have a very bad bicycle theft problem.
So my friend had the good fortune to actually work the voting center in his neighborhood.
"Busy?" I ask
"Not really."
In fact I even came by and walked in on the event to see it emptier than an elementary school prom. Hmmm is that what happened? Did they schedule an elementary school prom there, and it scared away the voters?
Anyway I couldn't vote because I was a registered Green party member. I did my research a whole day in advance for who I'd vote for in the green party, but no website nor any media could inform me of when I was supposed to vote for my chosen candidate????
That really agitates me to no end!
I also made a decision on who I'd have voted for if I was a registered Democrat, but it really made no difference since I wasn't allowed my own choice.
I know, I know there is this other party called the Republicans, but veteran New Yorkers for the most part, acknowledge them as a spawn of Satan. New York City is so Democratic......
How Democratic is it?
New York City is so Democratic that the Republican vote counter name tags were placed on Democrats just to make the voting center look more unbiased. Hey that's the best they could do, because Republicans weren't working the polls.
There are some pockets of the city that are Republican, but they are few and far between.
When driving the cab, so much happens, over so much time, it often blends together in a mush, and eventually, you do it all over again another day. In my dream: I'm in Brooklyn. My mind creates an entire neighborhood with the streets of Fort Greene and the buildings of Brooklyn Heights.
I’m driving two women home, for some reason I sit facing my passengers, my back to the steering wheel and the street ahead. Every time they tell me "left" or "right" I have to re-think the turn, steering the wheel with my back to it, with one hand.
"Make a left," they say, I make a left onto a small street, my body still facing backward as I spin the steering wheel across my palm and fingers. "Are you sure you can handle this?" one asks.
"Sure,” I say. I follow her eyes, which seem very concerned, so much so that if they could, they would drive for me. She holds her attention to a big tree with roots growing through the sidewalk and overtaking the street. I turn my head around to see the tree, but the turn is too tight. I turn my wheel as far as possible, but a tire gets squeezed between the street, the tree's roots, and the sidewalk. The tire pops, and deflates.
This was going to be my last customer, as I had been driving for more than 10 hours. Without a spare tire in the trunk I wondered how quickly the garage would be able to send someone to change my tire.
I drop the women off, at the corner of a housing complex driveway and several well-kept brownstones. They didn’t have cash and were going to get the money, all 24 dollars of it.
Another cabbie stops at the corner and dropped someone off too. He is very nice. He tells me I should expect them not to return, and speaks of all the times people have not paid him the fare. I "Cannot just let them walk away from me," he says. He tells me he'll help changing the tire. We decide to change the tire, rather than wait for the garage, but we shoot the shit some more. My engine is off; I left the keys, all of them, on my pillow, on my seat. Just then a team of guys in their mid-twenties approaches my taxi and before I can say anything they are all piling in. One even gets in the front. What's more, another looks in the driver door, gets in, turns on the engine, and revs it furiously. I run as fast as I can after my everything.
My dream changes the scenario; I am still running, in Riverdale, up and down the hills past car dealerships in route to Grand Concourse. The tire wasn't flat anymore. I call the police, with only a trip sheet in hand to tell me the license plate number. The car is due back at the garage in 15 minutes. The police hang up after I say the word "taxi"
Then I wake up... phew all a dream.
Still I figure I'll take that sunday off.
I changed my blogger name, yet again, to Lucky 327. What the hell did 4min mean anyway? meh I don't know what it meant, but here's what 327 means:
327 is the number on the cab I used to drive regularly for about a month, when I tested the whole driving 5 days a week thing. That's something I won't do again until the police stop targeting cabbies for tickets and the city does something about traffic congestion. Plus I found midtown impossible to navigate when I had to memorize every street where left turns or right turns were not permitted. And anyway I just like the number 327.
I'm just letting you know, in case I comment on your blog, and you say, who the hell is this?
I found this video just now after seeing it months earlier and thought it should be shared. Besides being funny, it may bring some facts to light; well not really. It is just a short cartoon of the yes' and no's of driving safely... and conveniantly. Rules of the urban road
This topic gets me started on an uncontrollable digression.... Maybe after watching this humorous short, drivers will stop throwing things at Cabbies. More than once I have seen BMW drivers throw Poland Spring bottles at cabbies when they stop and pick people up. Yes, folks there is a reason why some taxis have the sticker that reads, "Do Not Tailgate," it turns out taxis pick people up for a living. If you don't drive with your brain, you shouldn't be driving at all. Once a van driver after threatening to kill me, decided to throw his water on my windshield, I guess I wasn't supposed to pass a double parked van. Oops, sometimes I forget that cars are pulling out to drive when they don't signal.
Woohoo, I just called the garage, and I'm coming in tomorrow. Now I just need to stay awake 'till 2pm to be ready for an early morning.
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.
NYC, Cabs Are For Kissing: The Bad and the BeautifulLas Vegas, Chronicles: xxxvi (7 shorts)Eugene OR, Through a Windshield Darkly: Just Shoot Me NowEugene OR, Through a Windshield Darkly: The Pause That RefreshesEnjoy 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.
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.
Wish me luck, I'm going in for an interview with a traffic reporting company tommorow.
Check out these photo blogers: Express Trainjoe's nycAside 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
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