What I expected to be offering you tonight was a comprehensive look at the Eastside-for-Hire Sea-Tac labor dispute but instead is replaced by a brief tutorial concerning one important aspect of making money while operating a taxi. Two reasons for the delay is the sheer complexity of the Sea-Tac situation, along with having 1092 go down with a malfunctioning fan, costing me hours yesterday and today, not to mention $275.00 hard earned dollars out the taxi window.
A very quick introduction to this monetary lesson is that during my first 12-15 months driving taxi I did it minus any real dispatch meaning that if I was going make any money I was going to have to figure out just where it was hiding. Could it be on a particular hotel stand or the Space Needle or a concert or were the UW football Huskies home that Saturday?
With that fast summery I provided the primary clue to how a cabbie makes money when the town is dead, the weather fine and everyone is walking. The key to survival then is to know beyond all doubt what is potentially happening, where it is happening and the given times you can expect to see someone get into your cab.
Sometimes it is knowing that a particular hotel is full and guaranteeing an early morning rush to the airport. Or it could be that a major college team like the University of Nebraska is down at Husky Stadium, translating into a huge percentage of visiting fans needing to go every which way in the city and Sea-Tac.
In other words, you have to be smart about it, tracking your taxi prey like a savvy hunter knowing every nuanced trait and behavior of whom you are seeking: the elusive passenger putting all that money into your wallet. Persistence and positivity are key. Depression, fatigue and anger are not, taking you down and keeping you there.
And just by following these very simple rules you will be ahead of the game, ahead of your competitors, and allowing you to sleep tight while your fellow cabbies are tossing and turning after a nightmarish day.
And as always, good luck, because luck helps when you feel like crying, luck the bandage upon the open wound.
Thursday, May 10, 2018
Tuesday, May 1, 2018
The Cemetery Cries
Greetings once again from the Quality Inn, Holland, Ohio, a place (and experience) I see as a composite of America in the nearing end of the first one/fifth of this our American 21st century. The din of the freeway dominates my right ear and the electrical vibration emanating from the room refrigerator irritates my left. Is inner peace possible when pervasive noise is our modern 24 hour soundtrack, our brains not for a second allowed uninterrupted silence? With our brains now in a desensitized and mechanized generated fog, is it no wonder we all accept the unacceptable, somehow not noticing all the disposable Styrofoam plates and plastic knives, forks, spoons and cups tossed in to the motel trash bins, bound up in plastic bags and taken away to a ten thousand year slumber in a local landfill.
Passing the usual array of breakfast diners to fill my teacup I note 7 out of 10 are overweight, some grossly, their Styrofoam plates piled with fried eggs and sausages. When complimentary breakfasts are not compatible to what we truly require we become misshapen creatures, fattened for our impending cultural slaughter called our daily lives zooming down expressways to no important destination ever.
Bleak is the moment and depressing is the day, taking us to sleep after eight hours of ever so entertaining television. If this is what we have gained after 242 years of independence from the British, I say blood was shed for nothing, and would it be any worse bowing allegiance to an unworthy Queen? Why everyone instead could have their own barking Pembroke corgi guiding them around the manicured suburban landscape to the Baskin-Robbins and a hot fudge sundae, how tasteful a treat it would be, and ending in a half-rhyme, Lewis Carroll finding it ever so funny. But perhaps not.
Four Poems
The Cemetery Cries
Previously not noticing that Plot 33, my mother's section,
is one large teardrop drawn upon the
cemetery map, I imagine moisture and sorrow pooling
over a rough, yellowed lawn mourning my mother
and also her mother
but not their husbands, no,
undeserving of tears,
unworthy
of a feminine hand
or caressing touch.
Years of Looking (and Reading)
In 1959 I understood my parents were poor observers,
realizing it was up to me to comprehend and watch;
and wandering through the museum today I came upon a
prominently placed portrait and thought "by Gainsborough,"
and it was. A few galleries down a pastel, horizontally barred
painting suggested "Agnes Martin, and indeed it was she,
her muted vision distinctive. And exiting through the east door
three trees in a short row hinted plane trees, and amazingly they
cheered "Yes we are!" excited someone finally taking time to
notice.
Repetition
Too often when I am ready to write
I am not, fatigued to the point
I feel anything and all to be gibberish,
a theoretical and incomplete me
guessing each word and sentence
instead of accurate confirmation
and style gracing the page.
Life (and awake when I'd rather be asleep)
Unless I said, as I am saying, that I remain awake
in a motel room wishing I wasn't, no one would ever
know nor care that instead of sleep I am finishing
a not very good Joseph Conrad short story,
and between reading local tidbits from the Toledo
Blade, I start Virginia Woolf's second novel,
the opening paragraphs describing a London tea party,
which explains why I am awake, no, not a party but too
much tea, five cups of tea the source, the cause to why
I am sitting in bed writing during these early hours.
A New York Times online invitation to comment
In today's May 1st, 2018 edition, there is an extensive article entitled:
"A Taxi Driver Took His Own Life. His Family Blames Uber's Influence"
written by Emma Fitzsimmons. I recommend that every cabbie upon the face of our taxi earth read it. And contained in the online version is an invitation (and section) where you the cabbie can tell the world what your experience is. I believe this is unprecedented so I encourage all of you to take up the NY Times on their offer and tell the world your very personal and particular taxi reality. It is your opportunity to educate, to be the taxi teacher. By doing this, you will be assisting all of us in our daily struggle to survive in this the Age of Uber.
Passing the usual array of breakfast diners to fill my teacup I note 7 out of 10 are overweight, some grossly, their Styrofoam plates piled with fried eggs and sausages. When complimentary breakfasts are not compatible to what we truly require we become misshapen creatures, fattened for our impending cultural slaughter called our daily lives zooming down expressways to no important destination ever.
Bleak is the moment and depressing is the day, taking us to sleep after eight hours of ever so entertaining television. If this is what we have gained after 242 years of independence from the British, I say blood was shed for nothing, and would it be any worse bowing allegiance to an unworthy Queen? Why everyone instead could have their own barking Pembroke corgi guiding them around the manicured suburban landscape to the Baskin-Robbins and a hot fudge sundae, how tasteful a treat it would be, and ending in a half-rhyme, Lewis Carroll finding it ever so funny. But perhaps not.
Four Poems
The Cemetery Cries
Previously not noticing that Plot 33, my mother's section,
is one large teardrop drawn upon the
cemetery map, I imagine moisture and sorrow pooling
over a rough, yellowed lawn mourning my mother
and also her mother
but not their husbands, no,
undeserving of tears,
unworthy
of a feminine hand
or caressing touch.
Years of Looking (and Reading)
In 1959 I understood my parents were poor observers,
realizing it was up to me to comprehend and watch;
and wandering through the museum today I came upon a
prominently placed portrait and thought "by Gainsborough,"
and it was. A few galleries down a pastel, horizontally barred
painting suggested "Agnes Martin, and indeed it was she,
her muted vision distinctive. And exiting through the east door
three trees in a short row hinted plane trees, and amazingly they
cheered "Yes we are!" excited someone finally taking time to
notice.
Repetition
Too often when I am ready to write
I am not, fatigued to the point
I feel anything and all to be gibberish,
a theoretical and incomplete me
guessing each word and sentence
instead of accurate confirmation
and style gracing the page.
Life (and awake when I'd rather be asleep)
Unless I said, as I am saying, that I remain awake
in a motel room wishing I wasn't, no one would ever
know nor care that instead of sleep I am finishing
a not very good Joseph Conrad short story,
and between reading local tidbits from the Toledo
Blade, I start Virginia Woolf's second novel,
the opening paragraphs describing a London tea party,
which explains why I am awake, no, not a party but too
much tea, five cups of tea the source, the cause to why
I am sitting in bed writing during these early hours.
A New York Times online invitation to comment
In today's May 1st, 2018 edition, there is an extensive article entitled:
"A Taxi Driver Took His Own Life. His Family Blames Uber's Influence"
written by Emma Fitzsimmons. I recommend that every cabbie upon the face of our taxi earth read it. And contained in the online version is an invitation (and section) where you the cabbie can tell the world what your experience is. I believe this is unprecedented so I encourage all of you to take up the NY Times on their offer and tell the world your very personal and particular taxi reality. It is your opportunity to educate, to be the taxi teacher. By doing this, you will be assisting all of us in our daily struggle to survive in this the Age of Uber.
Thursday, April 26, 2018
Greetings From Holland, Ohio---Do You Remember "Joe The Plumber?" & 2 Taxi Stories & Origins Of The Current Port Of Seattle Sea-Tac Mess
I first stayed in Holland, Ohio during my September 2008 trip here to Toledo, set upon the mission of interring my mother's ashes next to her parents in the Roman Catholic Calvary Cemetery, which is how I know of that short lived media sensation, Samuel Joseph Wurzelbacher, more famously known as "Joe the Plumber," having less than a month later addressed a question to then campaigning Senator Obama right here in Holland. Once a Fox News darling, poor Joe is now just another forgotten cultural footnote assigned to the nonsense cluttering up our collective societal mind. At least he has something I don't have which is a middle name, a detail my bickering parents couldn't decide, leaving me destined to remain forever minus that connective middle appellation, essential not only to identity but life itself.
Now once again in Holland, this time at the local paper-thin Quality Inn, finding myself nightly serenaded by US Highway 23/475, eighteen wheelers singing their roaring tune. Today I began my serious search, like a nomadic boll weevil, for a new Toledo abode to house everything I own but now stored for nearly $300.00 a month in Lakewood, Washington. What is astounding is that my monthly mortgage could be little more than that for an entire house, fully displaying how Seattle and area has totally lost its economic mind, charging far too much for too little in return.
When I left Seattle on Tuesday I was filling up my cab at $3.15.9 per gallon. Here I will fill up my rental car at $2.42.9 per gallon. Is Seattle gasoline somehow better than Toledo gasoline? I don't think so and neither do you which is why here in Toledo I will buy a house for between $40 to $60 thousand dollars, a dwelling that would now cost me between 800 thousand to one million dollars in Seattle. Is Seattle that much better than Detroit or Toledo or Cleveland or so many other places here in the American Midwest, so wonderful a place that you would rather pay a $4000. a month mortgage than say, $500. a month?
Maybe back in 1973 it was when I first moved there during that distant January, but not now, it just isn't true, and while Mount Rainier is great, a natural wonder, when was the last time you drove over there and took in an inspiring hike in the park? Toledo is a gateway to some of the greatest lakes on the planet, Lakes Erie, Michigan, Superior inland freshwater seas. Grab a canoe and start paddling! And perhaps a fishing pole too.
Two Taxi Stories But I Intended On Recounting Three
Yes, that's right, three fares brought me the idea to transcribe them to the taxi page but the first one, the original incentive, remains lost somewhere in the cognitive neurons of my cabbie fatigued brain, an unfortunate example of what taxi does to you, wiping you out physically and mentally, your once illustrated cerebellum now a blank slate. If I ever remember I'll write it down but I am doubtful, my brain cells scrambled like so many breakfast eggs.
Three Giraffes
She was a character out of Tennessee Williams, a soft-spoken emotionally fragile woman in her mid-30s carrying a very important load: three large metal bronze-colored giraffes she had found at the Sodo Salvation Army store. Very, very carefully I set the trio in the trunk, she the ever watchful mother over her metallic children. "Don't worry," I reassured her, placing newspaper between them, "They will be okay."
On the drive to her mother's house in Renton, she kept repeating her voice was soft, which it certainly was, difficult to hear over the road noise. Wearing a light blue parka with the hood pulled over, she was a Seattle Eskimo on her own personal African safari, having bagged her thrift store quarry upon the asphalt plains.
Carrying the giraffes into the house, there was her petite elderly mother garbed in a neat blue and white patterned house dress, sitting at the living room table credit card in hand. The fare was $31.00, with Mom giving me an additional ten on top, making this fairyland ride both profitable and memorable, a brief incursion into a shattered world.
A Motel Key
A short man staggered out of the Mandarin Gate lounge influenced by whiskey, marijuana, and what he described as 25 small strokes. Having fled the VA Hospital and a competency hearing, he was on his way back home to California but there was one small problem: he couldn't remember the name of his motel, and worst, that key in his pocket failed to identify which Aurora Avenue (State Route 99) motel he was registered to.
Thankfully he said it was here somewhere in the north-end and I believed him, knowing it made sense that the Yellow Cab taking him from the Greyhound would bring him to this locale and its string of cheaper motels. He told me his story, how after avoiding his court dates, the judge dismissed his case and anyway, he could take care of himself and how his married stripper girlfriend was waiting for him but her husband was trouble, which I also believed.
Trying to make sense of the senseless, off we went on our search for a motel he had no memory of, not able to provide one second of description, not knowing whether it was north or south or on the west or east side of Aurora. I stopped him from rolling a joint, telling him that was the last thing he needed, clarity obviously more essential. As too often occurs, I was no longer just his cabbie, I was his life counselor.
As there were limited possibilities, I determined it had to be the Marco Polo Motel, and asking the clerk, he said it looked liked one of theirs, and trying the key, "Thank the Taxi Gods!" the door opened, his luggage just where he had left it, two very large bags for a troubled man again on his way to his own very measurable journey.
Origins of the Current Sea-Tac Taxi & Flat-rate Operational Crisis
There is a new crisis concerning Eastside-for-Hire's contract servicing Sea-Tac's taxi (and flat-rate for-hire) operations. No one involved appear to very happy about much of anything, with lawsuits filed, picketers waving signs and fingers pointed in every which direction at all available targets.
Next week I hope to post an extensive explanation and analysis detailing the issue from all sides, presenting each position and argument for and against. My purpose will be to both clarify and demystify the issues, thus perhaps rendering some stability upon the stormy taxi seas, but admittedly, knowing this won't be easy due to history, of how the argument began.
In reality, many of the current players have nothing to do with the root cause, that being very bad decisions centered upon the back of the City of Seattle; and alleged actions perpetuated by Seattle Yellow Cab when they last held the Sea-Tac service contract. As I hope to quickly point out, actions taken by Craig Leisy (of Seattle Licensing & Enforcement) to encourage the purchase of available flat-rate for-hire licenses, along with the Seattle City Council's decision to uncap Uber & Lyft from 250 operators to unlimited entry brought the situation to where we now find it.
As someone who opposed both proposals, all I can say is, I told you so, both actions bad ideas, knowing little good would come from them other than chaos, which is what we got and now have. Didn't anyone understand what and who they were dealing with? No!
Over 8 years ago we in the taxi industry were begging for more City of Seattle taxi licenses to be released. No, no, and no was the response even though more could have been authorized. Craig Leisy thought he had a good solution to the problem: releasing the licenses of a kind of livery cab created jointly by Seattle and King County.
Nobody knew anything about them until Leisy released the flat-rate licenses upon the starved taxi populace, who in turn quickly grabbed them up, approximately 250 City licenses having been released. King County, in its lack of wisdom, said you can buy as many KC versions as you would like, one million, two million not mattering.
The result of this licensing "feeding frenzy" was the creation of a business model that didn't have one, setting up those who had taken the plunge to operate in any fashion they could to survive and pay the bills. Fast forward to when the Sea-Tac contract was reopened for bidding, allowing Eastside an opportunity, reaching for it, and to everyone's surprise, actually winning!
Most don't know that the Seattle City Council, led by then Council President Sally Clark, conducted a 1 1/2 year study to determine just how many passengers annually used Seattle taxi-like services, even hiring the transportation professors James Cooper and Ray Mundy to lend their expertise to the process. A side note is that Mundy openly wondered just what were these strange transportation animals called flat-rate vehicles?
In summation the City Council determined that Uber and Lyft should be capped, which should have been the end of the story but upon a new mayor's intervention, new discussion ensued, giving us the situation we now have today, a survey in today's Seattle Times stating that taxis have become Seattle's last transportation choice. Once Seattle condoned Uber, King County and the Port of Seattle followed, giving us the saturated market we face today, overwhelming the taxis and flat-rates now serving Sea-Tac.
Yellow Cab's part in the current Sea-Tac was their alleged under reporting of trips, thus angering Port of Seattle managers to the point that anyone but Yellow was going to win the new contract, allowing Eastside, as I said, to get very lucky. But as it is often said, be careful what you wish for because Eastside's tenure so far has been miserable for them, lawsuits and Teamsters Local 177 barking at their heels.
And that my taxi friends is how the three-ring circus we now know as Sea-Tac was made manifest, everyone unhappy save the Sea-Tac passengers more than content to be taking Uber home from the airport. If you don't believe Uber isn't dominating the airport, I offer as evidence the amazing fact that a Port of Seattle Police Officer allowed a passenger on the upper curb to get into my cab. With me telling her no, the passing officer told her, "I don't care. Take the cab." What this told me is that he has given up after watching countless Ubers illegally pickup passengers, all openly disregarding the rules as written. To say I was shocked is more than an understatement. I was stunned.
Cab-Jacking Update
As of Monday, SPD was still holding Ted's cab after finding it abandoned the day after it was stolen. If they are doing forensic tests, they are taking their old, sweet time of it. Ted would certainly like to get his cell phone back.
Now once again in Holland, this time at the local paper-thin Quality Inn, finding myself nightly serenaded by US Highway 23/475, eighteen wheelers singing their roaring tune. Today I began my serious search, like a nomadic boll weevil, for a new Toledo abode to house everything I own but now stored for nearly $300.00 a month in Lakewood, Washington. What is astounding is that my monthly mortgage could be little more than that for an entire house, fully displaying how Seattle and area has totally lost its economic mind, charging far too much for too little in return.
When I left Seattle on Tuesday I was filling up my cab at $3.15.9 per gallon. Here I will fill up my rental car at $2.42.9 per gallon. Is Seattle gasoline somehow better than Toledo gasoline? I don't think so and neither do you which is why here in Toledo I will buy a house for between $40 to $60 thousand dollars, a dwelling that would now cost me between 800 thousand to one million dollars in Seattle. Is Seattle that much better than Detroit or Toledo or Cleveland or so many other places here in the American Midwest, so wonderful a place that you would rather pay a $4000. a month mortgage than say, $500. a month?
Maybe back in 1973 it was when I first moved there during that distant January, but not now, it just isn't true, and while Mount Rainier is great, a natural wonder, when was the last time you drove over there and took in an inspiring hike in the park? Toledo is a gateway to some of the greatest lakes on the planet, Lakes Erie, Michigan, Superior inland freshwater seas. Grab a canoe and start paddling! And perhaps a fishing pole too.
Two Taxi Stories But I Intended On Recounting Three
Yes, that's right, three fares brought me the idea to transcribe them to the taxi page but the first one, the original incentive, remains lost somewhere in the cognitive neurons of my cabbie fatigued brain, an unfortunate example of what taxi does to you, wiping you out physically and mentally, your once illustrated cerebellum now a blank slate. If I ever remember I'll write it down but I am doubtful, my brain cells scrambled like so many breakfast eggs.
Three Giraffes
She was a character out of Tennessee Williams, a soft-spoken emotionally fragile woman in her mid-30s carrying a very important load: three large metal bronze-colored giraffes she had found at the Sodo Salvation Army store. Very, very carefully I set the trio in the trunk, she the ever watchful mother over her metallic children. "Don't worry," I reassured her, placing newspaper between them, "They will be okay."
On the drive to her mother's house in Renton, she kept repeating her voice was soft, which it certainly was, difficult to hear over the road noise. Wearing a light blue parka with the hood pulled over, she was a Seattle Eskimo on her own personal African safari, having bagged her thrift store quarry upon the asphalt plains.
Carrying the giraffes into the house, there was her petite elderly mother garbed in a neat blue and white patterned house dress, sitting at the living room table credit card in hand. The fare was $31.00, with Mom giving me an additional ten on top, making this fairyland ride both profitable and memorable, a brief incursion into a shattered world.
A Motel Key
A short man staggered out of the Mandarin Gate lounge influenced by whiskey, marijuana, and what he described as 25 small strokes. Having fled the VA Hospital and a competency hearing, he was on his way back home to California but there was one small problem: he couldn't remember the name of his motel, and worst, that key in his pocket failed to identify which Aurora Avenue (State Route 99) motel he was registered to.
Thankfully he said it was here somewhere in the north-end and I believed him, knowing it made sense that the Yellow Cab taking him from the Greyhound would bring him to this locale and its string of cheaper motels. He told me his story, how after avoiding his court dates, the judge dismissed his case and anyway, he could take care of himself and how his married stripper girlfriend was waiting for him but her husband was trouble, which I also believed.
Trying to make sense of the senseless, off we went on our search for a motel he had no memory of, not able to provide one second of description, not knowing whether it was north or south or on the west or east side of Aurora. I stopped him from rolling a joint, telling him that was the last thing he needed, clarity obviously more essential. As too often occurs, I was no longer just his cabbie, I was his life counselor.
As there were limited possibilities, I determined it had to be the Marco Polo Motel, and asking the clerk, he said it looked liked one of theirs, and trying the key, "Thank the Taxi Gods!" the door opened, his luggage just where he had left it, two very large bags for a troubled man again on his way to his own very measurable journey.
Origins of the Current Sea-Tac Taxi & Flat-rate Operational Crisis
There is a new crisis concerning Eastside-for-Hire's contract servicing Sea-Tac's taxi (and flat-rate for-hire) operations. No one involved appear to very happy about much of anything, with lawsuits filed, picketers waving signs and fingers pointed in every which direction at all available targets.
Next week I hope to post an extensive explanation and analysis detailing the issue from all sides, presenting each position and argument for and against. My purpose will be to both clarify and demystify the issues, thus perhaps rendering some stability upon the stormy taxi seas, but admittedly, knowing this won't be easy due to history, of how the argument began.
In reality, many of the current players have nothing to do with the root cause, that being very bad decisions centered upon the back of the City of Seattle; and alleged actions perpetuated by Seattle Yellow Cab when they last held the Sea-Tac service contract. As I hope to quickly point out, actions taken by Craig Leisy (of Seattle Licensing & Enforcement) to encourage the purchase of available flat-rate for-hire licenses, along with the Seattle City Council's decision to uncap Uber & Lyft from 250 operators to unlimited entry brought the situation to where we now find it.
As someone who opposed both proposals, all I can say is, I told you so, both actions bad ideas, knowing little good would come from them other than chaos, which is what we got and now have. Didn't anyone understand what and who they were dealing with? No!
Over 8 years ago we in the taxi industry were begging for more City of Seattle taxi licenses to be released. No, no, and no was the response even though more could have been authorized. Craig Leisy thought he had a good solution to the problem: releasing the licenses of a kind of livery cab created jointly by Seattle and King County.
Nobody knew anything about them until Leisy released the flat-rate licenses upon the starved taxi populace, who in turn quickly grabbed them up, approximately 250 City licenses having been released. King County, in its lack of wisdom, said you can buy as many KC versions as you would like, one million, two million not mattering.
The result of this licensing "feeding frenzy" was the creation of a business model that didn't have one, setting up those who had taken the plunge to operate in any fashion they could to survive and pay the bills. Fast forward to when the Sea-Tac contract was reopened for bidding, allowing Eastside an opportunity, reaching for it, and to everyone's surprise, actually winning!
Most don't know that the Seattle City Council, led by then Council President Sally Clark, conducted a 1 1/2 year study to determine just how many passengers annually used Seattle taxi-like services, even hiring the transportation professors James Cooper and Ray Mundy to lend their expertise to the process. A side note is that Mundy openly wondered just what were these strange transportation animals called flat-rate vehicles?
In summation the City Council determined that Uber and Lyft should be capped, which should have been the end of the story but upon a new mayor's intervention, new discussion ensued, giving us the situation we now have today, a survey in today's Seattle Times stating that taxis have become Seattle's last transportation choice. Once Seattle condoned Uber, King County and the Port of Seattle followed, giving us the saturated market we face today, overwhelming the taxis and flat-rates now serving Sea-Tac.
Yellow Cab's part in the current Sea-Tac was their alleged under reporting of trips, thus angering Port of Seattle managers to the point that anyone but Yellow was going to win the new contract, allowing Eastside, as I said, to get very lucky. But as it is often said, be careful what you wish for because Eastside's tenure so far has been miserable for them, lawsuits and Teamsters Local 177 barking at their heels.
And that my taxi friends is how the three-ring circus we now know as Sea-Tac was made manifest, everyone unhappy save the Sea-Tac passengers more than content to be taking Uber home from the airport. If you don't believe Uber isn't dominating the airport, I offer as evidence the amazing fact that a Port of Seattle Police Officer allowed a passenger on the upper curb to get into my cab. With me telling her no, the passing officer told her, "I don't care. Take the cab." What this told me is that he has given up after watching countless Ubers illegally pickup passengers, all openly disregarding the rules as written. To say I was shocked is more than an understatement. I was stunned.
Cab-Jacking Update
As of Monday, SPD was still holding Ted's cab after finding it abandoned the day after it was stolen. If they are doing forensic tests, they are taking their old, sweet time of it. Ted would certainly like to get his cell phone back.
Saturday, April 14, 2018
Cab-Jacking In Seattle & We Can Now Pickup At SafeCo Field? & Taxi Computer Problems
The rarest of events happened late Wednesday night when my friend Ted was both robbed and made to leave his cab, with the two assailants driving away in his taxi. The short version of the story is that a man approached the cab in a darkened place beneath the Alaskan Viaduct (State Route 99) with a rifle wrapped in a blanket, forcing Ted to stop. After robbing him, the man and his female companion drove off. Making this bad story worse was the response of the Seattle police, refusing to do an immediate search because Ted didn't know the license plate number but given the cab was, one, a big Yellow Ford Crown Victoria, and two, the taxi's number 516 clearly posted on the sides and rear, it should have been somewhat easy to spot but no, SPD has their procedure and there would be no deviation from established policies, of course allowing the couple to get away.
One surprising part of the story is that the criminals knew enough to turn off the cab's computer, meaning dispatch lost the ability to track it. Twice the car was spotted by Yellow cabbies but in one case my friend James hit a big pothole which unfortunately deflated two tires because if anyone could have stayed behind the fools it would be James.
Regardless of anything, Ted thankfully was not hurt and the cab was found the next day and is now currently sitting in a SPD parking lot, scheduled to be released sometime Monday or Tuesday. This is the first time in my 30 Seattle taxi years I've heard of this happening, meaning that while Seattle cab driving will drive you crazy your chance of being murdered is very small unlike in cities like Chicago and New York. But given that it happened to someone with more taxi miles and years than me also says something, suggesting that Seattle is changing for the worst, not the better.
The Seattle Police Department Likes Uber?
Damn was I surprised when picking up at last night's Seattle Mariner's game at SafeCo field given the SPD's indifferent to me and ALL THOSE UBER & Lyft CARS blocking traffic around the stadium. The usual story is the past has been harassment from Seattle's finest but last night they didn't say a word to anyone as I picked up three times, my last passenger taking me to Bellevue and $42.60.
Clearly SPD has been told to lay off the Ubers and consequently, at least for the taxi moment, we cabbies too are also provided a free pass. Why I am so pleased that if I see Uber's founder walking down the street I might even kiss him. As yes, instant love or maybe not, the chance of infection too great even for a toxic ridden cabbie to take!
When You Can't Authorize your Credit Card
A major drawback of taxi dispatch computers is when they crash you are left without any option except to wait it out. Last night we were all presented with a unique scenario when it wasn't at all apparent the system was down when we did the commonplace, authorize a credit card payment, me and everyone else getting the message, "Buffeted Transaction," meaning the computer authorization was in an "intermediate stage" which until last night resulted in quick completed authorizations. Talking to friends and colleagues it seems all of us all didn't understand what was happening, that the transactions were faulty, endangering our ultimate payment.
Unfortunately this might all turn into a huge argument with Puget Sound Dispatch if it turns out that hundreds of credit card authorizations failed to process. Too often in my many years all responsibility is always put on the cabbie even though it isn't our fault, having done nothing but pay our fees and trust the associations to treat us fairly. Our weekly $180.00 must come with some guarantees other than heartbreak. When the computer goes down, how is it our responsibility? I would like to know.
One surprising part of the story is that the criminals knew enough to turn off the cab's computer, meaning dispatch lost the ability to track it. Twice the car was spotted by Yellow cabbies but in one case my friend James hit a big pothole which unfortunately deflated two tires because if anyone could have stayed behind the fools it would be James.
Regardless of anything, Ted thankfully was not hurt and the cab was found the next day and is now currently sitting in a SPD parking lot, scheduled to be released sometime Monday or Tuesday. This is the first time in my 30 Seattle taxi years I've heard of this happening, meaning that while Seattle cab driving will drive you crazy your chance of being murdered is very small unlike in cities like Chicago and New York. But given that it happened to someone with more taxi miles and years than me also says something, suggesting that Seattle is changing for the worst, not the better.
The Seattle Police Department Likes Uber?
Damn was I surprised when picking up at last night's Seattle Mariner's game at SafeCo field given the SPD's indifferent to me and ALL THOSE UBER & Lyft CARS blocking traffic around the stadium. The usual story is the past has been harassment from Seattle's finest but last night they didn't say a word to anyone as I picked up three times, my last passenger taking me to Bellevue and $42.60.
Clearly SPD has been told to lay off the Ubers and consequently, at least for the taxi moment, we cabbies too are also provided a free pass. Why I am so pleased that if I see Uber's founder walking down the street I might even kiss him. As yes, instant love or maybe not, the chance of infection too great even for a toxic ridden cabbie to take!
When You Can't Authorize your Credit Card
A major drawback of taxi dispatch computers is when they crash you are left without any option except to wait it out. Last night we were all presented with a unique scenario when it wasn't at all apparent the system was down when we did the commonplace, authorize a credit card payment, me and everyone else getting the message, "Buffeted Transaction," meaning the computer authorization was in an "intermediate stage" which until last night resulted in quick completed authorizations. Talking to friends and colleagues it seems all of us all didn't understand what was happening, that the transactions were faulty, endangering our ultimate payment.
Unfortunately this might all turn into a huge argument with Puget Sound Dispatch if it turns out that hundreds of credit card authorizations failed to process. Too often in my many years all responsibility is always put on the cabbie even though it isn't our fault, having done nothing but pay our fees and trust the associations to treat us fairly. Our weekly $180.00 must come with some guarantees other than heartbreak. When the computer goes down, how is it our responsibility? I would like to know.
Monday, April 9, 2018
An Open Letter To The Current City of Seattle City Council President, Bruce Harrell, April 9th, 2018
Dear City Council President Harrell,
With great interest I have been following the city council's proposals and deliberations concerning the well being of Seattle's Uber and Lyft operators, the council supporting efforts to not only unionize but also to increase the Uber minimum rate from $1.35 to $2.40. Clearly there has been much discourse as to why they are not making enough money to survive, yet I find it interesting that you and your fellow council member are searching for solutions for something created solely by your own actions, voting, as I am sure you remember, to toss out the city council bill capping all ride-share companies at 250 vehicles each. The real reason ride-share drivers can't make a living is due to there being 57,000 thousand of them competing in the very small market that is Seattle. Yes, Uber might be immoral but that isn't why their market is saturated. Again, the core reason all this is occurring is because the city council decided to open the ride share industry to unfettered expansion, minus any real enforceable regulation and oversight.
Surely you remember, because I certainly do, as I was sitting directly in front of you as you agreed with Sally Bagshaw that the council's excellent work of 1 1/2 years (quoting then Council President Sally Clark) deserved to be rescinded, for what reason I was never clear upon. The vote was 8 to 1, with only Mike O'Brien seeking a delay. With that motion, you and the city council, along with Mayor Ed Murray openly embraced Uber, embarking on a relationship you now say is fraught with disparities, challenging your corporate spouse, saying this isn't what we expected when we in the city council said "I do!" kissing the technological monster firmly on the lips, vowing forever to be true.
My question to you from the local taxi industry as a whole is, why did the city council do this, and why are you now contradicting yourselves minus the obvious that all of you, save Mr. O'Brien, were completely wrong to capitulate, allowing Uber and Mayor Murray to rule the day? It is something I've puzzled over for years, still not understanding the City's incentive promoting Uber over the nearly 100 year old local taxi industry, a quick bureaucratic romance now requiring some annulment. What, I ask, is exactly going on?
And this isn't the first time I've asked this question, from the very beginning suspicious because the details as to why and how have remained hidden from public view, to the point that I contacted Danny Westneat amongst others to see if they were interested in prying open the locked door. Having gotten no takers, it appears its solely left to me to question the city council's and Ed Murray's ultimate motivations concerning their business dealings with Uber.
At this point, it appears confusion reigns, with your council throwing anything and everything at the administrative wall, seeing if it sticks, including a proposal to lower current taxi rates to $2.40 per mile. Thanks but no thanks, as again, given that you folks started all this, why do we cabbies have to take on your burden? Collectively we are not pleased to be tied to your whipping post. What did we do to deserve this? Just what is our crime? What are our sins requiring divine governmental penance?
Sincerely,
Joseph (Joe ) Blondo
former chair, The Seattle & King County Taxi Advisory Commission
former president, The Alliance of Taxi Associations
With great interest I have been following the city council's proposals and deliberations concerning the well being of Seattle's Uber and Lyft operators, the council supporting efforts to not only unionize but also to increase the Uber minimum rate from $1.35 to $2.40. Clearly there has been much discourse as to why they are not making enough money to survive, yet I find it interesting that you and your fellow council member are searching for solutions for something created solely by your own actions, voting, as I am sure you remember, to toss out the city council bill capping all ride-share companies at 250 vehicles each. The real reason ride-share drivers can't make a living is due to there being 57,000 thousand of them competing in the very small market that is Seattle. Yes, Uber might be immoral but that isn't why their market is saturated. Again, the core reason all this is occurring is because the city council decided to open the ride share industry to unfettered expansion, minus any real enforceable regulation and oversight.
Surely you remember, because I certainly do, as I was sitting directly in front of you as you agreed with Sally Bagshaw that the council's excellent work of 1 1/2 years (quoting then Council President Sally Clark) deserved to be rescinded, for what reason I was never clear upon. The vote was 8 to 1, with only Mike O'Brien seeking a delay. With that motion, you and the city council, along with Mayor Ed Murray openly embraced Uber, embarking on a relationship you now say is fraught with disparities, challenging your corporate spouse, saying this isn't what we expected when we in the city council said "I do!" kissing the technological monster firmly on the lips, vowing forever to be true.
My question to you from the local taxi industry as a whole is, why did the city council do this, and why are you now contradicting yourselves minus the obvious that all of you, save Mr. O'Brien, were completely wrong to capitulate, allowing Uber and Mayor Murray to rule the day? It is something I've puzzled over for years, still not understanding the City's incentive promoting Uber over the nearly 100 year old local taxi industry, a quick bureaucratic romance now requiring some annulment. What, I ask, is exactly going on?
And this isn't the first time I've asked this question, from the very beginning suspicious because the details as to why and how have remained hidden from public view, to the point that I contacted Danny Westneat amongst others to see if they were interested in prying open the locked door. Having gotten no takers, it appears its solely left to me to question the city council's and Ed Murray's ultimate motivations concerning their business dealings with Uber.
At this point, it appears confusion reigns, with your council throwing anything and everything at the administrative wall, seeing if it sticks, including a proposal to lower current taxi rates to $2.40 per mile. Thanks but no thanks, as again, given that you folks started all this, why do we cabbies have to take on your burden? Collectively we are not pleased to be tied to your whipping post. What did we do to deserve this? Just what is our crime? What are our sins requiring divine governmental penance?
Sincerely,
Joseph (Joe ) Blondo
former chair, The Seattle & King County Taxi Advisory Commission
former president, The Alliance of Taxi Associations
Saturday, March 31, 2018
Greetings From Quincy, Washington---Nature's Splendor Versus Urban Clamor & A Poem
The past couple of weeks I have been traveling through the American West, making stops at Orr Hot Springs, Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, Death Valley National Park, Virgin Valley Warm Springs in northern Nevada, the Chewaucan River outside of Paisley, Oregon, Summer Lake Hot Springs, also near Paisley, and other wildlife refuges and national forest lands in California, Nevada and Oregon. Currently I am camping in perhaps my favorite place upon our planet, the Quincy Game Range (or Quincy Lakes), which is managed by the Washington State Department of Fish & Wildlife. The past few days I have been walking the southern part of the range, discovering new trails and lakes and ponds. At all times of day and night I am serenaded by bird songs and the yipping of coyotes. It is a good place. Excuse the few rattlesnakes you might encounter because they too have the right to enjoy the countryside. And besides, it's their home, and you are the visitor.
I mention all this because nature, the natural world is the antithesis to the workplace of the urban cabbie. And I ask, is it truly worth it, putting up with the stupidity that is modern urban existence---honking horns, glowering cops, choking exhaust, along with the pressure to make more and more money just to have a place to sleep. If this is reasonable then insanity has become the cultural norm, an escalating malady engulfing everyone, promoting insult and incivility and sheer recklessness where lucidity is shoved into the densest shadows.
Again, is it all worth it, toiling 12 plus hours a day, to what end, for what purpose? The past few months, while I have been soaking in Iceland's geothermal waters, eating great Parisian cooking and now walking in the now flowering eastern Washington desert, Seattle taxi buddies have been working away day after day minus any relief. James says he hasn't had a vacation in five years. Ted sleeps in his cab. Emanuel had his cab's window smashed and the taxi computer stolen. Long called and left a message, asking who do I use when I need a tow, his Prius broken down on the side of the road. No cabbie I know is having any fun and soon, beginning Sunday, I too will once again be amongst their ranks. Is any of this sensible?
Maybe the best response is, how could it be? As I said last week, even when the money is flowing, cab driving in a royal pain-in-the-butt! That point underlined and exemplified by the recent complaint I received, my only crime empathy, treating someone who obviously isn't accustomed to it, as an equal. When you do your best and are still punished, then you know what cab driving is all about, and it isn't good, no, not at all.
While all this is true, you might say, what then is the alternative to being a wage slave in a noisy city? The short term answer probably is what was being preached back in those revolutionary 1960s:
simplify your life by turning back to the land, grow your own food and breathe the good country air. But of course even if you did that, at least saving yourself, it is hard to ignore the billions left behind in every American and worldwide city, meaning you remain connected even when you not directly in the line-of-fire.
So is there anything all of us can do in the present while simultaneously tied to society's navel? First, beyond any doubt, both recognize and express that what we all accept as normal is unacceptable. And secondly, begin taking as much time as you can to have fun despite the hell you are in the midst of. Do that and begin thinking of what else can I do since the life I am living is unacceptable. The strongest stance you can take is to understand that the clangor and the pounding you are taking is completely and forever unacceptable. Make a plan.
And as quickly as you can, escape!
Poem
Walking to Something
After two earlier tries I decided to give myself
more time
setting off early and kept walking up and down the flowered trails
three species of purple and four yellow talking to me
along with accompanying bird song
past small lakes and ponds and then new to me
a tangle of weathered planks speaking local memory
and finally the expected cliffs
and the broad Columbia
glad to have reached something
sitting there
watching five agitated crows caw and murmur
over and round a nearby cliff side.
I mention all this because nature, the natural world is the antithesis to the workplace of the urban cabbie. And I ask, is it truly worth it, putting up with the stupidity that is modern urban existence---honking horns, glowering cops, choking exhaust, along with the pressure to make more and more money just to have a place to sleep. If this is reasonable then insanity has become the cultural norm, an escalating malady engulfing everyone, promoting insult and incivility and sheer recklessness where lucidity is shoved into the densest shadows.
Again, is it all worth it, toiling 12 plus hours a day, to what end, for what purpose? The past few months, while I have been soaking in Iceland's geothermal waters, eating great Parisian cooking and now walking in the now flowering eastern Washington desert, Seattle taxi buddies have been working away day after day minus any relief. James says he hasn't had a vacation in five years. Ted sleeps in his cab. Emanuel had his cab's window smashed and the taxi computer stolen. Long called and left a message, asking who do I use when I need a tow, his Prius broken down on the side of the road. No cabbie I know is having any fun and soon, beginning Sunday, I too will once again be amongst their ranks. Is any of this sensible?
Maybe the best response is, how could it be? As I said last week, even when the money is flowing, cab driving in a royal pain-in-the-butt! That point underlined and exemplified by the recent complaint I received, my only crime empathy, treating someone who obviously isn't accustomed to it, as an equal. When you do your best and are still punished, then you know what cab driving is all about, and it isn't good, no, not at all.
While all this is true, you might say, what then is the alternative to being a wage slave in a noisy city? The short term answer probably is what was being preached back in those revolutionary 1960s:
simplify your life by turning back to the land, grow your own food and breathe the good country air. But of course even if you did that, at least saving yourself, it is hard to ignore the billions left behind in every American and worldwide city, meaning you remain connected even when you not directly in the line-of-fire.
So is there anything all of us can do in the present while simultaneously tied to society's navel? First, beyond any doubt, both recognize and express that what we all accept as normal is unacceptable. And secondly, begin taking as much time as you can to have fun despite the hell you are in the midst of. Do that and begin thinking of what else can I do since the life I am living is unacceptable. The strongest stance you can take is to understand that the clangor and the pounding you are taking is completely and forever unacceptable. Make a plan.
And as quickly as you can, escape!
Poem
Walking to Something
After two earlier tries I decided to give myself
more time
setting off early and kept walking up and down the flowered trails
three species of purple and four yellow talking to me
along with accompanying bird song
past small lakes and ponds and then new to me
a tangle of weathered planks speaking local memory
and finally the expected cliffs
and the broad Columbia
glad to have reached something
sitting there
watching five agitated crows caw and murmur
over and round a nearby cliff side.
Sunday, March 25, 2018
The Inherent Loneliness Of Cab Driving---NYC Yellow Cab Owner Hangs Himself
This past week a veteran New York City medallion owner and driver, Nicanor Ochisol, was found hanging from a rafter in his garage in Queens, having killed himself in a fit of suicidal despair. Upset with declining business and a medallion once worth one million dollars but now down to $180,000, Ochisol had been telling friends for weeks that he might kill himself, afraid that he would lose his house because he and his wife, who also drove the cab, had their home mortgage financially tied to the medallion's valuation, which as noted, had lost over 80 percent of its resell potential. And it wasn't like it was Ochisol's imagination that business was bad, statistically, daily NYC fares have plummeted from a daily 2014 high of 470,000 to the new low of 175,000-250,000 fares available to 13, 587 Yellow Cabs. If you divide 200,000 fares by just over 13,000 cabs you get a figure of about 14 fares per cab which equals starvation wages for any American cabbie.
Making it worse, declining business meant that his plan to finance his retirement by leasing the medallion for $3000. monthly was no longer feasible, knowing at most he would fetch $1400. instead, again taking another unacceptable loss. That he felt death was his only option says much concerning the average taxi mind because nonstop misery is our persistent reality due to the daily hell the urban cabbie knows all too well. Even when money is rolling in, traffic and deranged passengers and long hours plus indigestion and fatigue is wearing, all adding to an unpleasantness penetrating deeply to the soul, your entire being a primal screen piercing all existence.
When the money is good, the pain is bearable but when it isn't, everything becomes stupid and you end up telling yourself you are an idiot for wasting your breath for little to nothing in return. And it is hard to argue the point as you wait one, two, three hours for the next fare. Suddenly you are crazy and life as you once knew it is now worthless.
And this was Ochisol's prevalent reality, trapped by overwhelming debt and diminishing business, his deep depression telling him there was no escape save death because the cab driver faces his/her life minus any external support, the cabbie completely and utterly on their own. If that cabbie idling next to you looks crazy, this is in part the reason why.
This inherent independence and isolation holds advantages but those quickly vanish when your revenue stream is gone, leaving you upon your own island surrounded by an angry financial sea. Just like the NYC cabbies, we in Seattle also question whether we can survive the Uber/Lyft onslaught. Burdened by regulation and unfair competition we don't understand how we can survive. When we tell the City of Seattle and King County licensing administrators none of this no longer makes sense, they respond by adding 55 medallions we don't need or can support. This adds to our inescapable loneliness, to the feeling that no one understands or cares. Maybe if one of our number commits suicide it might get their attention but I am not looking for any volunteers because I doubt even that would alter an equation that doesn't add up, allowing Uber and Lyft to continually flood a finite passenger market. As in NYC, our number of daily fares are down. Like cab owners in NYC and elsewhere, we all wonder how long this process can continue.
And since Seattle has over 57,000 Uber and Lyft drivers, joining their swelled ranks is certainly not the answer. The only answer that makes sense is to reduce the number of operators. And how do you do that? Place a moratorium of at least one year upon all new for-hire licensees. Let natural attrition govern the market. After one year, do a study determining just how much local independent operators are making. If folks are still working to make little to nothing then extend the moratorium for another year and conduct yet another determinative study.
By doing this, the City of Seattle and King County will help resolve a problem of their making because they are the ones who created this mess and no one else. Again, does anyone in their bureaucratic towers know the meaning of accountability? I am sure a quick glance at their Merriam- Webster will assist in the answer. It can't be that hard, can it?
Making it worse, declining business meant that his plan to finance his retirement by leasing the medallion for $3000. monthly was no longer feasible, knowing at most he would fetch $1400. instead, again taking another unacceptable loss. That he felt death was his only option says much concerning the average taxi mind because nonstop misery is our persistent reality due to the daily hell the urban cabbie knows all too well. Even when money is rolling in, traffic and deranged passengers and long hours plus indigestion and fatigue is wearing, all adding to an unpleasantness penetrating deeply to the soul, your entire being a primal screen piercing all existence.
When the money is good, the pain is bearable but when it isn't, everything becomes stupid and you end up telling yourself you are an idiot for wasting your breath for little to nothing in return. And it is hard to argue the point as you wait one, two, three hours for the next fare. Suddenly you are crazy and life as you once knew it is now worthless.
And this was Ochisol's prevalent reality, trapped by overwhelming debt and diminishing business, his deep depression telling him there was no escape save death because the cab driver faces his/her life minus any external support, the cabbie completely and utterly on their own. If that cabbie idling next to you looks crazy, this is in part the reason why.
This inherent independence and isolation holds advantages but those quickly vanish when your revenue stream is gone, leaving you upon your own island surrounded by an angry financial sea. Just like the NYC cabbies, we in Seattle also question whether we can survive the Uber/Lyft onslaught. Burdened by regulation and unfair competition we don't understand how we can survive. When we tell the City of Seattle and King County licensing administrators none of this no longer makes sense, they respond by adding 55 medallions we don't need or can support. This adds to our inescapable loneliness, to the feeling that no one understands or cares. Maybe if one of our number commits suicide it might get their attention but I am not looking for any volunteers because I doubt even that would alter an equation that doesn't add up, allowing Uber and Lyft to continually flood a finite passenger market. As in NYC, our number of daily fares are down. Like cab owners in NYC and elsewhere, we all wonder how long this process can continue.
And since Seattle has over 57,000 Uber and Lyft drivers, joining their swelled ranks is certainly not the answer. The only answer that makes sense is to reduce the number of operators. And how do you do that? Place a moratorium of at least one year upon all new for-hire licensees. Let natural attrition govern the market. After one year, do a study determining just how much local independent operators are making. If folks are still working to make little to nothing then extend the moratorium for another year and conduct yet another determinative study.
By doing this, the City of Seattle and King County will help resolve a problem of their making because they are the ones who created this mess and no one else. Again, does anyone in their bureaucratic towers know the meaning of accountability? I am sure a quick glance at their Merriam- Webster will assist in the answer. It can't be that hard, can it?
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