Yes, if you can believe it, because I still can't, that it is indeed true in the State of Washington, taxis are now considered essential to the well-being and health of the overall community, my disbelief stemming from my long years of harassment and targeting by local police and government, exemplified most recently by discovering I cannot park my taxi legally anywhere upon the streets in the City of Bellevue. Having referenced this in earlier posts, my court date is now rescheduled for July 31th, 2020, finding myself looking forward to the Mayor of Bellevue and other city officials explaining to the judge why taxis are accorded this especial criminal category---cabbies somehow a shameful blot staining Bellevue's streets and byways, requiring a general segregation from normal and usual liberties.
Given this background, and the reality of receiving dozens of moving violations by local-area police over the years, I can only smile when acknowledging a recognition previously denied me and my fellow taxi ruffians. Now, very suddenly, we hold importance, obtaining a status parallel to doctors and nurses making us frontline warriors, our lives and the threat of contracting the coronavirus secondary to all other duties, societal expectations excluding all other personal considerations. Again, I find this transformation breathtaking, elevating the dalit (untouchable) to the brahmin something even Lord Krishna couldn't contemplate, short-circuiting the karmic/reincarnate cycle---the cockroach now instantaneously a soaring eagle.
Yes, that new ranking, along with the very real prospect, percentage-wise, of being exposed to the novel coronavirus, makes working out here upon the street surreal, a progressive, active hallucination of negative consequences dancing upon sidewalks and roadways, the next passenger, the next moment potentially leading to debilitation and death. But yes, despite that chilling reality, dialysis and cancer patients still requiring their vital, life sustaining treatments, for once making us cabbies a recognizable resource for the greater societal good, providing necessary transport upon and over the viral byways.
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comment in Real Taxi blog: i have now officiously read all 7 of Sat Apr 11 — Thursday, February 27, 2020 of COVID nature, on my collected PDF, to read offline, where i am most of my life rite now, rite now being very possibly all of my life remaining, 9 pages single-spaced.
ReplyDeletebeing a fellow writer, i am concerned for your bequeathal of YOUR precious writing, and any other preciousness in your life you may want to pass forth beyond your own existence (in your prodigiously non-religious senses) here in thuh hopefully, but certainly not guaranteed, forward moving existence of our perhaps dribbling in-common species.
including a Divine Collected Real Taxi, and of course To Age Thirteen.
i’ve just composed and signed and had witnesses sign a new TN will more to my liking than my only previous IL will of 2002, plus both powers of attorney, i.e. of finances and healthcare, equally signed. and am working on my FIVE WISHES document of meticulous wishes as to how i may be treated as i go. i think i’ve taken care well enough of my writing in my life, but have little major (known of much) dangling as you do, at this moment.
as your dear friend and dear friend of your writing, i implore you to leave clear written directive as to who you would like to complete your unfinished pieces into whatever form we may manage for dissemination to all others interested, as i am, in their outcome, even after you your self may come out as dead. and please make it clear to all of us who may or may not survive you. this to avoid the horrendous, potentially eternal, legal squabble of any surviving next-of-kin who care only with envy for money and any possible excellence above their own. itemizing second, third, fourth, & fifth choices in personage, as most of us (if not all, NTE) may likely precede or follow rite behind you in these times.
nuff said. i love your witness to and bearing of the divine flame of homo sapiens’ writing, the eternal, even secular, sacredness thereof. ole marty