Post-midterm election reality greeted me this morning, telling how one established party won over the other well entrenched political party. Two years ago, I awakened at my friend Jake's apartment in San Francisco and listened to the results of Obama's victory and the Republicans many sorrows and regrets. Now this election season the GOP are singing and its the Democrats turn to cry, a cycle of one party this year, the other party winning next year with little variation in between. If this is democracy at its finest I can somewhat understand why only one third of the total eligible voters cast a ballot this year. Does anything really change? Yes and no is the answer, the usual one step forward and two steps back. Having personally involved myself with local taxi issues, and after meeting many of the important political players, I can only despair at our future here in Seattle, having discovering so-called "liberalism" isn't any more expansive than stagnant conservatism. If anything, "liberal" arrogance equals a "New Royalist" attitude while Republican intransigence compares to a wounded dinosaur roaring at lifes' indignities somewhere in the misty prehistoric past. How can this confounding combination of sadly comical characters achieve anything reasonable? Not easily is the answer.
Saturday night a town car driver told the four kids that he would drive them to Pioneer Square for $15.00. Jumping instead into my taxi the meter was rate was $5.00. This type of theft is unfortunately commonplace. Where is the the outrage and municipal intervention? There isn't any, only empty rhetoric and legislation that is never followed. Vote it is touted, let your voice be heard. But the truth is currently your voice is lost somewhere in a cultural vacuum, a political "black hole" consuming the elective process. I think back to a young woman my then wife and I met in "Iron Curtain" Hungary back in September of 1984. Whispering to us in a Budapest art museum, she recounted scary stories of governmental oppression, clearly afraid of being overheard and arrested. What she longed for was freedom, simple freedom to talk and go where she wanted minus limitations.
We in this state, city, county and country are free to shout out our dissent. Appear before the Seattle City council and speak your two minutes, telling everyone what and how you feel. And what happens to your concerns? They are ignored, the decisions already made. Call the Seattle Mayor today and ask him to implement many of the rules he signed into law a few months back. You will not hear laughter. You will not hear explanation. What you will hear is nothing whatsoever as you are left staring at your telephone. Welcome to our current Democracy!
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Monday, November 3, 2014
The Seahawks Win And Is Everyone Now Happy?
Yesterday afternoon the mighty Seahawks eked out a victory over the NFL's sorriest team, the once-feared Oakland Raiders, making for a contented post-game crowd, suddenly transforming me into an east side-bound shuttle, twice taking fans over to Kirkland, and later, a very drunk professional back to downtown Bellevue. While fans celebrated, cabbies were just pleased finally encountering some easy business, the Yellow version of the local industry more than weary dealing with a still cantankerous and often unpredictable computer dispatch system. If the man standing at the cashier window this morning was correct, the Sea-Tac cabbies associated with Teamsters Local 117 have not been paying their dispatch fees. While that might keep them smiling, what about the rest of us who are still obediently forking out our hard earned cash?
Across from me this morning at the Honey Court Restaurant in Seattle's Chinatown/International district, a half-sick Yellow driver was quitting early, saying he had made only $100.00 for himself but he had had enough. Commenting though he did have two airports runs, his discontent was palpable, no one these days having much fun. Having mild influenza only magnifies an unsatisfactory situation, not remedied by swallowing an aspirin every four hours.
Just before I found Mister Bellevue standing at the corner of Roosevelt NE and NE 70th, I first accepted a fare offering over the tablet, only to have it suddenly disappear. Instantly offered another call, that address too disappearing from the screen. It was maddening. It is impossible to respond to this kind of problem, the system simultaneously malfunctioning while you the operator are doing everything, at least in theory, correctly.
No, they weren't cancellations, instead, more unfortunate dysfunction manifesting itself before my disbelieving eyes. Making it worse, the fare information also vanishing from the dispatch superintendent's screen, though eventually Jeffery rediscovered the recalcitrant calls, resending them out to the waiting taxis. I bring up the matter of fare cancellations because that is what occurs when the customer cancels, the address and other information vanishing from the screen. Only this Sunday was I made aware of why this was happening, and only after my puzzled inquiry. As I have said, driver training with the new system would have been extremely helpful, eliminating much of the confusion.
That these kinds of occurrences aren't helpful is beyond comment, a holy covenant broken between company and driver and passenger. These mishaps can't keep happening but despite Mister Anderson's intervention, they have, making our reality even more tenuous than it already is. No fun. I repeat. No fun. Geroge Anderson, where are you, now that we need you?
Yesterday, risking stern rebuke, a friend conducted his own taxi private experiment. Theoretically it has been stated that the closest cab to the call WILL always be sent. Sitting next to a Safeway, he himself requested a cab. Upon receiving the call, he could easily have done a "no show" without anyone the wiser. What happened instead was another more distant taxi being directed to the call. So much for theory was my friend's response. While potentially reckless, it begs to answer the question about just what is happening? He and others are past patience. They have money to make and bills to pay. Personally, overall I had a good weekend, with the system working properly for me about 95 percent of the time, putting it on par with the previous system. But sometimes what it does can only be called nonsensical. I am looking forward to this current misery quickly passing into oblivion. One can only hope.
Mid-morning yesterday I was offered a fare originating from Zone 330, meaning somewhere 20 or more miles directly to the north of where I was parked at N 96th & Stone Avenue N. Taking such an unknown call is little more than suicidal, meaning no one can reasonably accept such a distant and mysterious fare. What could be lurking behind that taxi curtain? The answer is, who cares, because unless there is some introductory information presented before its offered, only a cab sitting way up there in Everett could rationally check it out.
Wisely ignoring it like the suspected land mine it was, just one scant minute later I am heading to an airport run sitting a mere 3/4 of a mile away. Now that made sense, along with the $10.00 tip I got on top of the $58.00 fare. Thank you, taxi gods, for your divine mercy and understanding. I am forever your fervent servant, money the quickest route to a cabbie's irreligious heart, suddenly pious and devout, thankful utterances slipping from tongue and lips!
Across from me this morning at the Honey Court Restaurant in Seattle's Chinatown/International district, a half-sick Yellow driver was quitting early, saying he had made only $100.00 for himself but he had had enough. Commenting though he did have two airports runs, his discontent was palpable, no one these days having much fun. Having mild influenza only magnifies an unsatisfactory situation, not remedied by swallowing an aspirin every four hours.
Just before I found Mister Bellevue standing at the corner of Roosevelt NE and NE 70th, I first accepted a fare offering over the tablet, only to have it suddenly disappear. Instantly offered another call, that address too disappearing from the screen. It was maddening. It is impossible to respond to this kind of problem, the system simultaneously malfunctioning while you the operator are doing everything, at least in theory, correctly.
No, they weren't cancellations, instead, more unfortunate dysfunction manifesting itself before my disbelieving eyes. Making it worse, the fare information also vanishing from the dispatch superintendent's screen, though eventually Jeffery rediscovered the recalcitrant calls, resending them out to the waiting taxis. I bring up the matter of fare cancellations because that is what occurs when the customer cancels, the address and other information vanishing from the screen. Only this Sunday was I made aware of why this was happening, and only after my puzzled inquiry. As I have said, driver training with the new system would have been extremely helpful, eliminating much of the confusion.
That these kinds of occurrences aren't helpful is beyond comment, a holy covenant broken between company and driver and passenger. These mishaps can't keep happening but despite Mister Anderson's intervention, they have, making our reality even more tenuous than it already is. No fun. I repeat. No fun. Geroge Anderson, where are you, now that we need you?
Yesterday, risking stern rebuke, a friend conducted his own taxi private experiment. Theoretically it has been stated that the closest cab to the call WILL always be sent. Sitting next to a Safeway, he himself requested a cab. Upon receiving the call, he could easily have done a "no show" without anyone the wiser. What happened instead was another more distant taxi being directed to the call. So much for theory was my friend's response. While potentially reckless, it begs to answer the question about just what is happening? He and others are past patience. They have money to make and bills to pay. Personally, overall I had a good weekend, with the system working properly for me about 95 percent of the time, putting it on par with the previous system. But sometimes what it does can only be called nonsensical. I am looking forward to this current misery quickly passing into oblivion. One can only hope.
Mid-morning yesterday I was offered a fare originating from Zone 330, meaning somewhere 20 or more miles directly to the north of where I was parked at N 96th & Stone Avenue N. Taking such an unknown call is little more than suicidal, meaning no one can reasonably accept such a distant and mysterious fare. What could be lurking behind that taxi curtain? The answer is, who cares, because unless there is some introductory information presented before its offered, only a cab sitting way up there in Everett could rationally check it out.
Wisely ignoring it like the suspected land mine it was, just one scant minute later I am heading to an airport run sitting a mere 3/4 of a mile away. Now that made sense, along with the $10.00 tip I got on top of the $58.00 fare. Thank you, taxi gods, for your divine mercy and understanding. I am forever your fervent servant, money the quickest route to a cabbie's irreligious heart, suddenly pious and devout, thankful utterances slipping from tongue and lips!
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Taxi Cartoonville But Why Am I Not Laughing?
Down south in Arcata, California "she-who-can't-be-named" assists Dave who assigns all blame upon "the goons," they somehow responsible when he loses his wallet or having his car stolen after leaving it unlocked and the keys left unattended in the ignition. The goons, the goons, it is always the goon's fault, and maybe it is but perhaps not, given how easy it is blaming metaphysical or other mysterious influences instead of taking personal responsibility for ones' own incompetence.
Now I have never heard anyone in the local taxi industry mentioning "goons" but rare is the time anyone has said, "I take full responsibility!" for anything. Contrarily moderate to mild bedlam reigns, with few attempting to transform chaos to operational tranquility. Why I can't tell you but I am beginning to suspect neurological or cognitive damage stemming from unrelenting stress and disorder. While the 18th century colloquial term "mad-as-a-hatter" stems from using mercury when producing "felt" for hats derived from beaver and rabbit pelts, everyone knows that taxi drivers are insane, hence the usage, just another "crazy cabbie" which, as we in the business know too well, is sadly too often true.
Some recent events unfortunately back this contention, all of us toxic from the many years breathing in gasoline, diesel and other related fumes and toxins. On too many occasions passengers exclaim "that you don't look a day over forty!", prompting my joking response that what they are seeing is a kind "Botox" effect isolated to the taxi. Now for some recent behavioral examples of taxi behavior better left to the comic pages. Maybe one day they will come illustrated and the entire nation can join in on the screaming and shouting.
-----Monday, while on the way to the main Yellow taxi lot, the head of PSD/BYGs Sea-Tac operations had his van sideswiped by none other than a Sea-Tac Yellow taxi. "Unbelievable!" was the response from a long-time taxi superintendent.
-----As part of a new feature of PSD's new computer system, info announcing a fare's availability has been sent to the entire fleet, hoping someone would get close to the call. What did happen was a small army of taxis converging upon, let's say, the 700 block of Broadway East, honking their horns and in general causing a ruckus. There has now been a policy change in response.
-----Many readers know that Seattle and King County cabbies are independent contractors, or in other words, independent business owners. This known fact makes it all the puzzling, when, beginning next week, PSD says it is planning, similar to Uber, to electronically rate driver performance and punish driver's with "system time-outs" if an offered call is rejected.
The one major problem with this approach is that the driver and owner is "paying" for the dispatch services, which translated means they are being asked to finance their own punishment. How is this in any manner conceivable? I don't think it is something that can be done. While understanding PSD/BYG frustration with certain behaviors, one would think their response should be within the limits of known legal parameters and beyond challenge. This appears to be an approach that will be questioned.
While some of this might or could generate a chuckle, isn't the joke truly on us in the taxi industry? We should be the last ones laughing because if you think any of this is funny then it is truly time to schedule your neurological/psychological testing. I think it could be necessary.
Now I have never heard anyone in the local taxi industry mentioning "goons" but rare is the time anyone has said, "I take full responsibility!" for anything. Contrarily moderate to mild bedlam reigns, with few attempting to transform chaos to operational tranquility. Why I can't tell you but I am beginning to suspect neurological or cognitive damage stemming from unrelenting stress and disorder. While the 18th century colloquial term "mad-as-a-hatter" stems from using mercury when producing "felt" for hats derived from beaver and rabbit pelts, everyone knows that taxi drivers are insane, hence the usage, just another "crazy cabbie" which, as we in the business know too well, is sadly too often true.
Some recent events unfortunately back this contention, all of us toxic from the many years breathing in gasoline, diesel and other related fumes and toxins. On too many occasions passengers exclaim "that you don't look a day over forty!", prompting my joking response that what they are seeing is a kind "Botox" effect isolated to the taxi. Now for some recent behavioral examples of taxi behavior better left to the comic pages. Maybe one day they will come illustrated and the entire nation can join in on the screaming and shouting.
-----Monday, while on the way to the main Yellow taxi lot, the head of PSD/BYGs Sea-Tac operations had his van sideswiped by none other than a Sea-Tac Yellow taxi. "Unbelievable!" was the response from a long-time taxi superintendent.
-----As part of a new feature of PSD's new computer system, info announcing a fare's availability has been sent to the entire fleet, hoping someone would get close to the call. What did happen was a small army of taxis converging upon, let's say, the 700 block of Broadway East, honking their horns and in general causing a ruckus. There has now been a policy change in response.
-----Many readers know that Seattle and King County cabbies are independent contractors, or in other words, independent business owners. This known fact makes it all the puzzling, when, beginning next week, PSD says it is planning, similar to Uber, to electronically rate driver performance and punish driver's with "system time-outs" if an offered call is rejected.
The one major problem with this approach is that the driver and owner is "paying" for the dispatch services, which translated means they are being asked to finance their own punishment. How is this in any manner conceivable? I don't think it is something that can be done. While understanding PSD/BYG frustration with certain behaviors, one would think their response should be within the limits of known legal parameters and beyond challenge. This appears to be an approach that will be questioned.
While some of this might or could generate a chuckle, isn't the joke truly on us in the taxi industry? We should be the last ones laughing because if you think any of this is funny then it is truly time to schedule your neurological/psychological testing. I think it could be necessary.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Sick Is Not How To Start A Taxi Weekend
Friday afternoon after eating a fairly benign lunch of rice and vegetables I suddenly fell ill to the point that the tips of my fingers were growing numb, with my body quickly succumbing to aches and chills. What it truly was I will never know. Instant flu? Food poisoning? Regardless of the origin, it was clear that it would impact my upcoming working weekend. Sleeping early probably helped but I still awakened at 1:10 AM with a throbbing head. Dependent upon these weekends for my economic "bread and butter" meant, short of death, I was heading to the cab lot to again embrace yet another two wonderfully grueling days. The sour cherry on top was being greeted by the news that I had to pay $124.00 for running a camera-monitored intersection.
Totally bewildered, I asked Bill the night superintendent, "When did this happen?" as I am very attentive to these "red light" cameras. Nearly three weeks had passed and no one had told me about it, and making it worse, paying the damn thing meaning all options were taken from my control. Lucky I didn't faint dead away but of course I survived, having a great Saturday and an insanely horrible Sunday, finally waking up today at noon miraculously cured. Nothing like a fun taxi weekend to beat the hell out of whatever ails you. And no, I don't think it is cheaper than going to a doctor, unless they charge $400.00 dollars plus just for sticking out your tongue. Three separate 1/2 hour naps on Saturday certainly aided my recovery. Did I have any choice?
One Blessing I Can Accept
Last night picked up a HopeLink connected passenger who had been waiting over 1 1/2 hours in the rain and cold. Part of the wait had resulted from a driver having "dumped" the call. Madder than anything because the gentleman, coming from a late night doctor's appointment, had been unnecessarily and cruelly inconvenienced, I made a couple calls making sure that the cabbie in question would be appropriately addressed.
Though granted my Vietnam War-era CO status upon religious and moral grounds, I instinctively cringe when causally given a god or "God's" benediction but this time the passenger's "God bless you!,"given in appreciation for my intervention, was pleasing. "Thank you!" I replied and I meant it.
Something Good from the Bad
Unhappy that I had come down to the lot this afternoon to pay money owed only to find that Barbara in the financial office had already fled the royal confines, I was fortunate to discover, while talking to Tom, the new dispatch manager, that George Anderson, our new computer system's guru, was there, and there was time to talk. Amazingly, I got five precious minutes to impress home the urgency of our situation. He listened intently then got back to his reprogramming, understanding that the dysfunction must be quickly remedied. My initial assessment is that he is far from ordinary, not something I usually say, far too accustomed to the usual and mundane. There is hope then for swift and effective resolution. The faster the better is clearly the best answer.
Earlier in the morning drivers and owners met with the PSD GM and members of the PSD board. Displeasure was expressed in addition to the real threat of not paying lease fees. It appears a meeting with Mister Anderson will be arranged. When providing him with my blog/business card I said I have been "holding my tongue" and believe me, I have, only interested in constructive negotiations. Anybody can shout but more importantly, can you achieve your just and honorable aims? That is the question of the moment and the taxi hour. One month of this is enough. There is nothing left to comment about. The system has to work properly 24 hours a day minus flaws and errors. There is no other answer.
Totally bewildered, I asked Bill the night superintendent, "When did this happen?" as I am very attentive to these "red light" cameras. Nearly three weeks had passed and no one had told me about it, and making it worse, paying the damn thing meaning all options were taken from my control. Lucky I didn't faint dead away but of course I survived, having a great Saturday and an insanely horrible Sunday, finally waking up today at noon miraculously cured. Nothing like a fun taxi weekend to beat the hell out of whatever ails you. And no, I don't think it is cheaper than going to a doctor, unless they charge $400.00 dollars plus just for sticking out your tongue. Three separate 1/2 hour naps on Saturday certainly aided my recovery. Did I have any choice?
One Blessing I Can Accept
Last night picked up a HopeLink connected passenger who had been waiting over 1 1/2 hours in the rain and cold. Part of the wait had resulted from a driver having "dumped" the call. Madder than anything because the gentleman, coming from a late night doctor's appointment, had been unnecessarily and cruelly inconvenienced, I made a couple calls making sure that the cabbie in question would be appropriately addressed.
Though granted my Vietnam War-era CO status upon religious and moral grounds, I instinctively cringe when causally given a god or "God's" benediction but this time the passenger's "God bless you!,"given in appreciation for my intervention, was pleasing. "Thank you!" I replied and I meant it.
Something Good from the Bad
Unhappy that I had come down to the lot this afternoon to pay money owed only to find that Barbara in the financial office had already fled the royal confines, I was fortunate to discover, while talking to Tom, the new dispatch manager, that George Anderson, our new computer system's guru, was there, and there was time to talk. Amazingly, I got five precious minutes to impress home the urgency of our situation. He listened intently then got back to his reprogramming, understanding that the dysfunction must be quickly remedied. My initial assessment is that he is far from ordinary, not something I usually say, far too accustomed to the usual and mundane. There is hope then for swift and effective resolution. The faster the better is clearly the best answer.
Earlier in the morning drivers and owners met with the PSD GM and members of the PSD board. Displeasure was expressed in addition to the real threat of not paying lease fees. It appears a meeting with Mister Anderson will be arranged. When providing him with my blog/business card I said I have been "holding my tongue" and believe me, I have, only interested in constructive negotiations. Anybody can shout but more importantly, can you achieve your just and honorable aims? That is the question of the moment and the taxi hour. One month of this is enough. There is nothing left to comment about. The system has to work properly 24 hours a day minus flaws and errors. There is no other answer.
Monday, October 20, 2014
A Young Man Adrift Upon A Rainy Seattle Night
Something I now refuse to do is serve, in any manner speaking, as silent accomplice to a hospital discharging a homeless patient onto Seattle's streets, suddenly subject to wind and rain and uncertain fate. This morning at about 2:30 AM Ballard Swedish, via a HopeLink charge, put me on the taxi errand of taking an ill young man, minus warm clothing and hat, to a homeless shelter theoretically located in downtown Seattle. Once on our way it became apparent that one, I had an incorrect address, and two, my passenger was given no information on how to contact or connect with the shelter.
What had occurred was simple enough. The Swedish on-staff social worker had flushed the guy out the door before making standard arrangements for this kind of precarious "middle-of-the-night" transfer from one agency to the next. The young man, new to all of this, was clueless. The early morning was stormy, not fit for man nor beast and especially not for someone penniless, bewildered and forlorn.
Once downtown, I understood the shelter we were seeking was not the King County Administration Building at 500 Fourth Avenue but the City Hall located one block over at 600 Fourth Avenue. Having no telephone number I advised dispatch of the situation. Saying I would try to find a place for the kid I tried both the Union Gospel Mission and DESC but no luck due to the rain, all usual and available beds taken. DESC did provide a reference list which at least allowing me to call the shelter in question, of course receiving no reply. After giving 45 minutes to this sorry misadventure I called dispatch again and got a return HopeLink authorization to return to the hospital. Escorting him back into the ER lobby I quickly told the story, telling them I did what I could, saluted and flew out of there thus avoiding any and all bureaucratic gibberish.
Having seen this scenario before, as I said, I will never participate again in these kinds of shenanigans. Evidently immortally is easy for some. Thank goodness I don't share the same errant predilection and convenient memory loss. Did they really think they could buy my acquiescence for $21.00? Shows what they think about cab drivers generally is all I can say. Money rules the world? For many clearly the answer is affirmative, even if it means tossing someone out onto the streets, a dollar saved the sweeter the financial bottom line.
The Real and Accurate Concern
While too many at Yellow are concerned about their own buttock, the real issue with the new computer dispatch system is mechanical failure and how it is affecting the system's ability to process incoming calls and dispatching them quickly and effectively to waiting cabs. While the majority complain and wail about system nuances, the real question is just when will the system operate as designed. Most cabbies I know are dinosaurs moaning in the bog, not understanding extinction dawns unless drastic action is taken.
Beyond question PSD/BYG (Yellow) as per usual did not do what was necessary to properly and effectively launch the new system. There can be no argument on that point. The real question is how all of us involved collectively will respond. Hopefully Mr. Anderson's arrival next Monday will save the taxi day. Beyond anything it is clear system dysfunction can't continue much longer, soon taking away all incentive to call Yellow. Let the new efficient era begin, and then hold your ears while the dinosaurs cheer! What kind of prehistoric animal are you?
What had occurred was simple enough. The Swedish on-staff social worker had flushed the guy out the door before making standard arrangements for this kind of precarious "middle-of-the-night" transfer from one agency to the next. The young man, new to all of this, was clueless. The early morning was stormy, not fit for man nor beast and especially not for someone penniless, bewildered and forlorn.
Once downtown, I understood the shelter we were seeking was not the King County Administration Building at 500 Fourth Avenue but the City Hall located one block over at 600 Fourth Avenue. Having no telephone number I advised dispatch of the situation. Saying I would try to find a place for the kid I tried both the Union Gospel Mission and DESC but no luck due to the rain, all usual and available beds taken. DESC did provide a reference list which at least allowing me to call the shelter in question, of course receiving no reply. After giving 45 minutes to this sorry misadventure I called dispatch again and got a return HopeLink authorization to return to the hospital. Escorting him back into the ER lobby I quickly told the story, telling them I did what I could, saluted and flew out of there thus avoiding any and all bureaucratic gibberish.
Having seen this scenario before, as I said, I will never participate again in these kinds of shenanigans. Evidently immortally is easy for some. Thank goodness I don't share the same errant predilection and convenient memory loss. Did they really think they could buy my acquiescence for $21.00? Shows what they think about cab drivers generally is all I can say. Money rules the world? For many clearly the answer is affirmative, even if it means tossing someone out onto the streets, a dollar saved the sweeter the financial bottom line.
The Real and Accurate Concern
While too many at Yellow are concerned about their own buttock, the real issue with the new computer dispatch system is mechanical failure and how it is affecting the system's ability to process incoming calls and dispatching them quickly and effectively to waiting cabs. While the majority complain and wail about system nuances, the real question is just when will the system operate as designed. Most cabbies I know are dinosaurs moaning in the bog, not understanding extinction dawns unless drastic action is taken.
Beyond question PSD/BYG (Yellow) as per usual did not do what was necessary to properly and effectively launch the new system. There can be no argument on that point. The real question is how all of us involved collectively will respond. Hopefully Mr. Anderson's arrival next Monday will save the taxi day. Beyond anything it is clear system dysfunction can't continue much longer, soon taking away all incentive to call Yellow. Let the new efficient era begin, and then hold your ears while the dinosaurs cheer! What kind of prehistoric animal are you?
Friday, October 17, 2014
Dedicated To Don "Sterno" of Gold Bar, Washington: A Message From The Poet Robert Service
Last week while taking Route 2 to Eastern Washington, I picked up a hitchhiker in Sultan who was on his way home in Gold Bar. One thing led to the other with Don, nickname "Sterno" telling me about his three days being held captive in 1969 during the Vietnam War. Given that my friend Kaus was a prisoner in Laos for nearly seven months roughly during the same time period I was very interested. That my last book was a Vietnam War related biography provided Don with a ready and knowledgeable audience. I had already noticed his "POW in 1969" tattoo on his wrist. Briefly this is his story.
While out on patrol on an illegal incursion across the near Laos border, they were ambushed, with many of his platoon members either killed or wounded, or as in his situation, captured, instantly staring up at a bayonet wielding soldier. Taken to a camp near the Mekong River, Don found himself in a partially submersed bamboo cage with two other Americans, a helicopter pilot and jet bomber pilot unfortunate to have had their aircraft blown out of the sky. On the third night, Don decided to escape, understanding that the cage was bound by thin twine. With each of them taking turns, they lowered their heads and literally began chewing away on the twine. After a while they were successful, with all three escaping their prison. The plan was to grab hold of one of the giant lilly pads floating in the river, break it off at its base and drift back across the river border and into South Vietnam. Don and the jet pilot made it to the same part of the river, not knowing what happened to the other prisoner. Don began his watery journey only to lose contact with his comrade. He never saw either man again. After a few hours his troubles ended when he came upon a camp with bright shining lights beaming into the Mekong. Hearing American voices he was then rescued, shouting out in the dark who he was.
Just this month Time/Life issued a new magazine/book examining the Vietnam War. I bought it last Wednesday in a Coulee Dam-area Safeway when shopping for organic orange juice. It is well worth the 12 dollars, especially for those new to the subject, serving as a good introductory primer. While some know, most don't that I am a Vietnam-era 1-0, official Conscientious Objector from my draft board located in Brighton, Colorado November, 1972. I came to Seattle to do what is called "alternative service" but President Nixon ended the draft in February 1973, meaning I just missed being included in the final call-up of the war. I say this as explanation to my continued and abiding interest in that most horrible of subjects, war.
Another reading recommendation I have is a new book just recently published concerning WWI, "The Burning of the World, A Memoir of 1914" by Bela Zombory-Moldovan, an Hungarian painter who died in 1967. The book is a translation by his grandson, Peter Zombory-Moldovan. It is a valuable read.
I end this digression from "all subjects taxi" with a poem taken from Canadian poet Robert Service's book, "Rhymes Of A Red Cross Man" which he dedicated to the memory of his brother, Lieutenant Albert Service who was "Killed in Action, France, August, 1916." I really like this poem, an excellent example of its kind. For further reading, check out the paperback edition of the "Penguin Book of WWI Poetry." I bought my copy while on a weekend vacation in Calistoga, California in 1980. That book was, and remains a major influence. Check out the poems of Wilfred Owen. You will never be the same, I assure you.
The Call
(France, August first, 1914)
Far and near, high and clear,
Hark to the call of War!
Over the gorse and the golden dells,
Ringing and swinging of clamorous bells,
Praying and saying of wild farewells:
War! War! War!
High and low, all must go:
Hark to the shout of War!
Leave to the woman the harvest yield;
Grid ye, men, for the sinister field:
A sabre instead of a scythe to wield:
War! Red War!
Rich and poor, lord and boor,
Hark to the blast of War!
Tinker and tailor and millionaire,
Actor in triumph and priest in prayer,
Comrades now in the hell out there,
Sweep to the fire of War!
Prince and page, sot and sage,
Hark to the roar of War!
Poet, professor and circus clown,
Chimney-sweeper and fop o' of the town,
Into the pot and be melted down:
Into the pot of War!
Women all, hear the call,
The pitiless call of War!
Look your last on your dearest ones,
Brothers and husbands, fathers, sons:
Swift they go to the ravenous guns,
The gluttonous guns of War.
Everywhere thrill the air
The maniac bells of War.
There will be little sleeping to-night;
There will be wailing and weeping to-night;
Death's red sickle is reaping to-night:
War! War! War!
Robert Service
There you have, War! in all its glory! May it end, but when, but when, but when!
Post Script added October 23rd, 2014
Another book recommendation:
"The Long Shadow, The Legacies of the Great War in the Twentieth Century" by David Reynolds,
published 2014 by Norton.
Well researched and the photo pages are incredible, looking at those alone, separate from the text, will provide you with important and long lasting insight. As is obvious, wars' impact lasts far into the future, peace treaties little better than a band aide covering a festering wound. There are no heroes, only the dead and maimed.
While out on patrol on an illegal incursion across the near Laos border, they were ambushed, with many of his platoon members either killed or wounded, or as in his situation, captured, instantly staring up at a bayonet wielding soldier. Taken to a camp near the Mekong River, Don found himself in a partially submersed bamboo cage with two other Americans, a helicopter pilot and jet bomber pilot unfortunate to have had their aircraft blown out of the sky. On the third night, Don decided to escape, understanding that the cage was bound by thin twine. With each of them taking turns, they lowered their heads and literally began chewing away on the twine. After a while they were successful, with all three escaping their prison. The plan was to grab hold of one of the giant lilly pads floating in the river, break it off at its base and drift back across the river border and into South Vietnam. Don and the jet pilot made it to the same part of the river, not knowing what happened to the other prisoner. Don began his watery journey only to lose contact with his comrade. He never saw either man again. After a few hours his troubles ended when he came upon a camp with bright shining lights beaming into the Mekong. Hearing American voices he was then rescued, shouting out in the dark who he was.
Just this month Time/Life issued a new magazine/book examining the Vietnam War. I bought it last Wednesday in a Coulee Dam-area Safeway when shopping for organic orange juice. It is well worth the 12 dollars, especially for those new to the subject, serving as a good introductory primer. While some know, most don't that I am a Vietnam-era 1-0, official Conscientious Objector from my draft board located in Brighton, Colorado November, 1972. I came to Seattle to do what is called "alternative service" but President Nixon ended the draft in February 1973, meaning I just missed being included in the final call-up of the war. I say this as explanation to my continued and abiding interest in that most horrible of subjects, war.
Another reading recommendation I have is a new book just recently published concerning WWI, "The Burning of the World, A Memoir of 1914" by Bela Zombory-Moldovan, an Hungarian painter who died in 1967. The book is a translation by his grandson, Peter Zombory-Moldovan. It is a valuable read.
I end this digression from "all subjects taxi" with a poem taken from Canadian poet Robert Service's book, "Rhymes Of A Red Cross Man" which he dedicated to the memory of his brother, Lieutenant Albert Service who was "Killed in Action, France, August, 1916." I really like this poem, an excellent example of its kind. For further reading, check out the paperback edition of the "Penguin Book of WWI Poetry." I bought my copy while on a weekend vacation in Calistoga, California in 1980. That book was, and remains a major influence. Check out the poems of Wilfred Owen. You will never be the same, I assure you.
The Call
(France, August first, 1914)
Far and near, high and clear,
Hark to the call of War!
Over the gorse and the golden dells,
Ringing and swinging of clamorous bells,
Praying and saying of wild farewells:
War! War! War!
High and low, all must go:
Hark to the shout of War!
Leave to the woman the harvest yield;
Grid ye, men, for the sinister field:
A sabre instead of a scythe to wield:
War! Red War!
Rich and poor, lord and boor,
Hark to the blast of War!
Tinker and tailor and millionaire,
Actor in triumph and priest in prayer,
Comrades now in the hell out there,
Sweep to the fire of War!
Prince and page, sot and sage,
Hark to the roar of War!
Poet, professor and circus clown,
Chimney-sweeper and fop o' of the town,
Into the pot and be melted down:
Into the pot of War!
Women all, hear the call,
The pitiless call of War!
Look your last on your dearest ones,
Brothers and husbands, fathers, sons:
Swift they go to the ravenous guns,
The gluttonous guns of War.
Everywhere thrill the air
The maniac bells of War.
There will be little sleeping to-night;
There will be wailing and weeping to-night;
Death's red sickle is reaping to-night:
War! War! War!
Robert Service
There you have, War! in all its glory! May it end, but when, but when, but when!
Post Script added October 23rd, 2014
Another book recommendation:
"The Long Shadow, The Legacies of the Great War in the Twentieth Century" by David Reynolds,
published 2014 by Norton.
Well researched and the photo pages are incredible, looking at those alone, separate from the text, will provide you with important and long lasting insight. As is obvious, wars' impact lasts far into the future, peace treaties little better than a band aide covering a festering wound. There are no heroes, only the dead and maimed.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Who Is George Anderson And Why Is He Coming To Seattle October 27th, 2014?
Last night I had an alarming conversation with a taxi buddy, my colleague distressed and panicked, expressing the opinion that PSD/BYG (Seattle Yellow Taxi) is set to implode and vanish from the known taxi earth. Rumors of bankruptcy and other dire predictions left his lips. I tired to reassure him that what we were experiencing was a temporary "rough patch" and the result of poor planning, something that was being addressed as quickly as possible. I know he remained unconvinced, and who can blame him, one bad financial week leaving him battered and bruised. "How can I pay my rent?" he lamented, which of course is a good question that hopefully will be answered by an uptick in business the next few weeks.
It has been occasionally scary, Yellow's new dispatch system's initial problems troubling and puzzling, confusing to the point that sometimes me and others had no idea (or concept) of was going on one way or the other. Though clarity has arrived, and PSDs new dispatch manager, Tom Holler, is working non-stop to resolve all the issues, that still doesn't repair the emotional damage done to our collective confidence and psyche. In taxi terms, the remediate balm is money, cold hard cash in our pockets, money being the first and everything in this grim business, making money again taking care of all worries and complaints. A suggested strike on the weekend of October 25th would only make a bad scenario worse, further irritating an already agitated customer base. Why make more troubles for ourselves, especially when we the drivers and owners are not responsible for the crisis, trusting that the correct decisions were being made. You can be assured that local media would have "fun" reporting our work outage.
Tom and I had a good talk yesterday, going over various points and problems and issues I have witnessed over the past weeks. It was pleasing to know he was well aware for the most part of what has occurred. As all of us drivers and owners know all too well, that couldn't always be said of his predecessor. He is planning on coming out with me soon and watching how the system operates in real time. It is good to know he is interested in actual practice, not solely in textbook theory.
Tom did go to San Francisco and observed the same system we have in our cabs working efficiently. And how many times need it be repeated? The failure we have witnessed has everything to do with how it was debuted. I feel we must go forward toward solution, especially given there is no alternative because, love it or hate it, the new system is here to stay. Patience is called for.
Once the "bugs" are worked out, the drivers and owners who know how to make money will continue to do well. Others, including some friends of mine with ten-plus years experience or more, will continue to stumble regardless of conditions. Back in 2001 I regrettably got my friend Steve into the business. Business was good but poor Steve remained a "fifty-dollar a day take home" cabbie despite everything I did to improve his skills. Coaching session after coaching session held no effect, Steve, for whatever reason, remained a lousy taxi driver, at least in terms of making money. He was a nice guy but bad cabbie.
And George Anderson, of Wireless Edge and GJ Anderson Group Inc will be in Seattle Monday October 27th, 2014 to do more "hands-on" fine tuning. George Anderson, if you didn't already know, is the creator of the system in your taxi. He is already involved from his San Francisco location. Again, be assured, PSD/BYG is going forward toward resolution. To be frank, they have no choice. Normally must return soon. That is clear.
It has been occasionally scary, Yellow's new dispatch system's initial problems troubling and puzzling, confusing to the point that sometimes me and others had no idea (or concept) of was going on one way or the other. Though clarity has arrived, and PSDs new dispatch manager, Tom Holler, is working non-stop to resolve all the issues, that still doesn't repair the emotional damage done to our collective confidence and psyche. In taxi terms, the remediate balm is money, cold hard cash in our pockets, money being the first and everything in this grim business, making money again taking care of all worries and complaints. A suggested strike on the weekend of October 25th would only make a bad scenario worse, further irritating an already agitated customer base. Why make more troubles for ourselves, especially when we the drivers and owners are not responsible for the crisis, trusting that the correct decisions were being made. You can be assured that local media would have "fun" reporting our work outage.
Tom and I had a good talk yesterday, going over various points and problems and issues I have witnessed over the past weeks. It was pleasing to know he was well aware for the most part of what has occurred. As all of us drivers and owners know all too well, that couldn't always be said of his predecessor. He is planning on coming out with me soon and watching how the system operates in real time. It is good to know he is interested in actual practice, not solely in textbook theory.
Tom did go to San Francisco and observed the same system we have in our cabs working efficiently. And how many times need it be repeated? The failure we have witnessed has everything to do with how it was debuted. I feel we must go forward toward solution, especially given there is no alternative because, love it or hate it, the new system is here to stay. Patience is called for.
Once the "bugs" are worked out, the drivers and owners who know how to make money will continue to do well. Others, including some friends of mine with ten-plus years experience or more, will continue to stumble regardless of conditions. Back in 2001 I regrettably got my friend Steve into the business. Business was good but poor Steve remained a "fifty-dollar a day take home" cabbie despite everything I did to improve his skills. Coaching session after coaching session held no effect, Steve, for whatever reason, remained a lousy taxi driver, at least in terms of making money. He was a nice guy but bad cabbie.
And George Anderson, of Wireless Edge and GJ Anderson Group Inc will be in Seattle Monday October 27th, 2014 to do more "hands-on" fine tuning. George Anderson, if you didn't already know, is the creator of the system in your taxi. He is already involved from his San Francisco location. Again, be assured, PSD/BYG is going forward toward resolution. To be frank, they have no choice. Normally must return soon. That is clear.
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