Thursday, October 17, 2019

Greetings From San Lorenzo, New Mexico---The Insanity That Is Taxi Reality

Where I am writing from, the very tiny burg of San Lorenzo, New Mexico, population 20-93, depending upon whom you ask, is located in the Rio Mimbres Valley more or less sandwiched between two officially federally designated wilderness areas, the Gila Wilderness to the west, and to the east, the Aldo Leopold Wilderness, of course named after that American naturalist famous for the book, "Sand County Almanac." Hot springs abound in the greater area, and having visited Gila Hot Springs for the first time, I can only quote Robert Frost and say "You Come Too!"  The drive from San Lorenzo can only be described, once you have reached the Continental Divide, in a single word, as spectacular!

That I needed recovery time from my 1,914 mile haul down from my Tacoma storage room is an understatement.  In my last stretch of driving, I drove from Boron, California to Silver City, New Mexico, the largest town in these parts, in 18 1/2 hours, my "taxi-driving mode" switching into overdrive.

 Driving an U-haul 26 foot truck/van, it was the largest vehicle I've driven since my brief 1983-84 Metro days driving 40 foot-plus long buses. Laden with 6-7 thousand books, it was slow going, keeping it mostly at 55-60 MPH. San Lorenzo is approximately 22 miles east of Silver City.

I also learnt a big lesson about paying people in advance, as my nephew and a friend abandoned me, leaving my exhausted self to finish the loading.  Thankfully, here in southwest New Mexico, folks know the value of a dollar and what commitment means, my helpers Darien and Kevin doing a great job, and yes, even acknowledging I was essentially worn out. Thank you!

Being in the silence of the high desert reminds me too well of what I will be returning to Saturday morning: the sheer madness of a traffic-clogged urban center engaged in a whole lot of unnecessary nothingness somehow translating into the modern mechanized civilization boondoggle all of us unfortunately share. Who wants to be there?  Not me!

And what does it mean to the Seattle cabbie?   Why nothing but a mad scramble dodging crazed drivers while dealing with a mindless bureaucracy demanding more and more from the fatigued soul that is the average cabbie plying the unforgiving city streets and byways. More, the modern mantra screams, we want more money, more of your precious time, and blood, we want your blood!

Think I am exaggerating?  Then you too jump in a cab like I will be doing this upcoming Saturday and you will personally see what I am talking about.  Once again I will be devoured alive and spit out, our modern cultural monster grinning, happy for the umpteenth time to oblige, to render such necessary service!

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