Lately I have been telling passengers, once the topic is broached, that before you go anywhere in an Uber or Lyft, first request to see their COMMERCIAL insurance policy. If he/she can't, time to get out of the car. And after this conversation I ask my customer to guess how much I pay annually for insurance for me, Tom and Raymond? The answer is $6000.00, and this with clean MVRs. Again, another good reason to avoid all moving violation tickets because they hike up your costs.
At one point I believe Yellow's annual insurance rates were averaging ten-eleven thousand per car due to keeping on too many accident-prone drivers. So one could say that regulators nationwide are allowing Uber and Lyft to endanger everyone concerned because of very poor insurance accountability. As for my buddy E., he continues to have to pay and pay for the privilege of avoiding instant death while plying the taxi streets. Good luck is all I can say!
And adding further outrage and to an already insulting business, you aren't even safe when your car is parked, as my 2012 Chevy Sonic was, at our taxi exchange point and broken into, the left-side passenger window smashed to smithereens. For the past year we have been exchanging the cab near the intersection of S. Hudson & Colorado S., just across from what once was the entry to the Yellow parking lot, the thieves getting nothing of real value except what is truly valuable to me as they quickly swept though the two glove boxes, taking what they found.
Oddly, they also grabbed the Sufi prayer beads an old Sufi Holy Man gave me during a 1999 visit to Istanbul, Turkey, something I kept on my floor-installed gear shift. All I can and will say is that I hate junkies, finding nothing amusing about addictive and destructive behavior. While safe "injection centers"are all the recent health rage, does anyone ever ask these folks where they got the money to buy the heroin?
I am now thinking of a good alternative to our current location. The corner around 12th & E. Jefferson used to be popular place to park your taxi. That might be a very good choice. If there is a positive to this incident, its that there is a very good chance, thanks to an adjacent business, All-City Fence and their 24-hour surveillance cameras, that the break-in was caught on film. I will be filing a police report tomorrow.
New SafeCo Field Cabstand a Home-Run!
Something logical finally occurred when the City of Seattle put a two car cabstand on the Northwest corner of South Atlantic Street & 1st Avenue South, placing it directly across from the Mariner baseball stadium. The only problem was Monday, after the game, I found two Uber operators parked there. Perhaps one of the police officers standing mere feet away will begin issuing tickets. Boy, would that be another kind of home-run!
Falling in the "what took them so long" category
A new Yellow computer-generated message is now telling everyone that there are now penalties for dumping calls, saying a third offense means termination. How many decades did it take for this to become official policy? Regardless, the newly stated stance concerning driver accountability is welcome, having personally grown tired of cleaning up another driver's transgression. As I always say, just serve the bell and see what happens, one ride often leading to another. Too basic a taxi equation, I know, for far too many of my fellow Yellow cabbies---now that I know my taxi ABCs----are you now proud of me? No, I am not, your taxi illiteracy hurting me and everyone.
A real case of blind injustice
Thinking about it, the cop who issued me the recent U-turn ticket also, in an inappropriate moment of generosity, gave me permission to further break the law by telling me I could proceed two blocks further north-bound on 3rd Avenue to take my right turn on Marion Street. The only problem with that advice is that during the morning and evening rush hours, all vehicles other than buses are limited to driving one block and one block only on 3rd, allowing you to take necessary turns. One could say then that his advice was totally contrary to his previous action of issuing me the ticket, and that it appears he felt an in-general permission to do whatever he wanted.
Unfortunately, that has been my overall experience with police in Seattle and King County, holding a discretionary permission to punish in one situation and in another, do nothing whatsoever. While it might be impossible to regulate human behavior, it cannot be called fair.
And yesterday, a District Attorney located in San Bernardino County announced that the killing of a blind and mentally ill man holding a knife and rock was justified by the City of Fontana Police. They knew he was blind and schizophrenic
How can a blind man holding a weapon other than a gun truly pose a threat to anyone? Why not take a broomstick and knock the knife away. Or just hit him in the head with the broom. How could he stop you? Instead he was shot dead with an AR-15 rifle. If interested, go on-line and look at the various AR-15 rifles. They look nothing like a broomstick.
No Longer a Hippie?
Over the weekend I picked up a woman originally from Germany who had written a book about Hippies and the 1960s. Obviously having a personal interest in the subject I gave her a card with my email address on it, telling her she should email me because I knew she would like to know about this book about New Mexico communes I have been reading.
So far, she has not contacted me, which makes me think that, while she maintains an interest, she herself is no longer a hippie because the hippies I have known, especially back in 1969 and the early 1970s, were incredibly open to new contacts and people. I personally have many stories, including ending up on a commune in 1970 while passing through Abbotsford, BC, Canada. Two of my fellow hippies, Rick and Micheal, were living in Canada due to the American draft wanting them, against their personal wishes, to join military service.
Regardless, here is the title of the book which might intrigue you. If new to the subject, the accompanying essays could be of great interest.
"Irwin Klein and the New Settlers---Photographs of the Counterculture in New Mexico," edited by Benjamin Klein. University of Nebraska Press 2016
It really brings a pretty much long, gone era back to life. As it turns out, "she-who-can't-be-named" moved to New Mexico and lived the rustic existence for a few years around 1970. When I was 12/13 I lived in Grants, New Mexico during the 7th grade in 1966/67, Grants a rough & tumble town located along the legendary Route 66 Highway.
As near as I can remember, I did not see one hippie in Grants during that period of time. In fact, contrary to peace and love, I was involved in 3 fights my very first day at Franklin Junior High. But I did learn how to drive when I was 12, certainly a kind of hippie sentiment, my father flaunting society's morals and standards.
No, Dad, wasn't a hippie in the usual sense, just alienated and crazy, and I mean really, really crazy. Fast forwarding to late 1969, Dad could be found driving a cab in Denver, Colorado. All I can say, he was eminently qualified.
Oddly, they also grabbed the Sufi prayer beads an old Sufi Holy Man gave me during a 1999 visit to Istanbul, Turkey, something I kept on my floor-installed gear shift. All I can and will say is that I hate junkies, finding nothing amusing about addictive and destructive behavior. While safe "injection centers"are all the recent health rage, does anyone ever ask these folks where they got the money to buy the heroin?
I am now thinking of a good alternative to our current location. The corner around 12th & E. Jefferson used to be popular place to park your taxi. That might be a very good choice. If there is a positive to this incident, its that there is a very good chance, thanks to an adjacent business, All-City Fence and their 24-hour surveillance cameras, that the break-in was caught on film. I will be filing a police report tomorrow.
New SafeCo Field Cabstand a Home-Run!
Something logical finally occurred when the City of Seattle put a two car cabstand on the Northwest corner of South Atlantic Street & 1st Avenue South, placing it directly across from the Mariner baseball stadium. The only problem was Monday, after the game, I found two Uber operators parked there. Perhaps one of the police officers standing mere feet away will begin issuing tickets. Boy, would that be another kind of home-run!
Falling in the "what took them so long" category
A new Yellow computer-generated message is now telling everyone that there are now penalties for dumping calls, saying a third offense means termination. How many decades did it take for this to become official policy? Regardless, the newly stated stance concerning driver accountability is welcome, having personally grown tired of cleaning up another driver's transgression. As I always say, just serve the bell and see what happens, one ride often leading to another. Too basic a taxi equation, I know, for far too many of my fellow Yellow cabbies---now that I know my taxi ABCs----are you now proud of me? No, I am not, your taxi illiteracy hurting me and everyone.
A real case of blind injustice
Thinking about it, the cop who issued me the recent U-turn ticket also, in an inappropriate moment of generosity, gave me permission to further break the law by telling me I could proceed two blocks further north-bound on 3rd Avenue to take my right turn on Marion Street. The only problem with that advice is that during the morning and evening rush hours, all vehicles other than buses are limited to driving one block and one block only on 3rd, allowing you to take necessary turns. One could say then that his advice was totally contrary to his previous action of issuing me the ticket, and that it appears he felt an in-general permission to do whatever he wanted.
Unfortunately, that has been my overall experience with police in Seattle and King County, holding a discretionary permission to punish in one situation and in another, do nothing whatsoever. While it might be impossible to regulate human behavior, it cannot be called fair.
And yesterday, a District Attorney located in San Bernardino County announced that the killing of a blind and mentally ill man holding a knife and rock was justified by the City of Fontana Police. They knew he was blind and schizophrenic
How can a blind man holding a weapon other than a gun truly pose a threat to anyone? Why not take a broomstick and knock the knife away. Or just hit him in the head with the broom. How could he stop you? Instead he was shot dead with an AR-15 rifle. If interested, go on-line and look at the various AR-15 rifles. They look nothing like a broomstick.
No Longer a Hippie?
Over the weekend I picked up a woman originally from Germany who had written a book about Hippies and the 1960s. Obviously having a personal interest in the subject I gave her a card with my email address on it, telling her she should email me because I knew she would like to know about this book about New Mexico communes I have been reading.
So far, she has not contacted me, which makes me think that, while she maintains an interest, she herself is no longer a hippie because the hippies I have known, especially back in 1969 and the early 1970s, were incredibly open to new contacts and people. I personally have many stories, including ending up on a commune in 1970 while passing through Abbotsford, BC, Canada. Two of my fellow hippies, Rick and Micheal, were living in Canada due to the American draft wanting them, against their personal wishes, to join military service.
Regardless, here is the title of the book which might intrigue you. If new to the subject, the accompanying essays could be of great interest.
"Irwin Klein and the New Settlers---Photographs of the Counterculture in New Mexico," edited by Benjamin Klein. University of Nebraska Press 2016
It really brings a pretty much long, gone era back to life. As it turns out, "she-who-can't-be-named" moved to New Mexico and lived the rustic existence for a few years around 1970. When I was 12/13 I lived in Grants, New Mexico during the 7th grade in 1966/67, Grants a rough & tumble town located along the legendary Route 66 Highway.
As near as I can remember, I did not see one hippie in Grants during that period of time. In fact, contrary to peace and love, I was involved in 3 fights my very first day at Franklin Junior High. But I did learn how to drive when I was 12, certainly a kind of hippie sentiment, my father flaunting society's morals and standards.
No, Dad, wasn't a hippie in the usual sense, just alienated and crazy, and I mean really, really crazy. Fast forwarding to late 1969, Dad could be found driving a cab in Denver, Colorado. All I can say, he was eminently qualified.
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