A friend sent an article dating from last year written by The Stranger's Heidi Grover, outlining what was going on with Eastside versus "everyone else," confusing me at first as it was nearly identical to what is occurring now, meaning little has changed in eight months, the shouting, if nothing else, gaining volume and range. Last week the leaders of South and North Korea physically embraced in yet another display of solidarity and commitment toward a peaceful and lasting political solution between their two countries. One then might think that if they can do it, then it should be an easy matter for Eastside and the Port of Seattle to come to agreement and stop fighting over what, in comparison, is a very small matter.
But I must say it appears that some in the taxi community want to end Eastside's Sea-Tac contract now, and not later, which would fully explain their "tooth and nail" tenacity, Eastside literally fighting for its Sea-Tac life. For what it's worth, my advice is for everyone to just back down, cooperate like the business partners they are, and attempt to operate peacefully for the remaining 1 1/2 years.
And why not, the world not ending if taking that route, allowing everyone to save face and get on with their lives, proceeding to the next chapter. While complex, let it be simple, turning off the stove and walking away, knowing that when you let the water boil everyone will be scalded. It just isn't necessary regardless of all rhetoric and anger, it just isn't, much better ending both the argument and story, instead giving the commonsense God all the glory, turning out the lights and saying "good night!" to a nonsensical fight.
Lying to the Trademark Lawyers
The Turkish attorneys told me they were charged $75.00 by the ESFH flat-car from Sea-Tac to their downtown hotel. The normal fare ranges from about $47.00 to $55.00. so clearly they were intentionally overcharged, something I heard multiple times during the week-long convention---that the flat-rate driving were lying to the lawyers. Why any of them felt this was a reasonable approach is only something that can be answered by them. But what is clear is that they drove many potential taxi and flat-rate customers straight into Uber's waiting arms, translating into lost income for everyone regardless of your honestly or inherent morality. One fool even tried to charge a Seattle native $30.00 from DT to the Hillside Motel, an at most $15.00 cab ride.
Given this, I believe it is time for some kind of final directive be issued to all cabbies and flat-raters, telling them beyond all doubt that this kind of behavior will result in only one outcome: permanent termination from our industry. This is more or less what should be said to all those ciphers and fools masquerading as legitimate business operators as opposed to who they truly are: thieves and societal ruffians.
This is what should happen if a theft of any amount is confirmed by the City of Seattle and/or King County: the thief should be fired. And then the City and County should permanently suspend his/her for-hire license. The offense should be referred to the relevant police department for prosecution. If convicted of a misdemeanor, all major American city licensing departments should be notified. And if you really want to be nasty, tell ICE and see what happens to the fool, deportation becoming a possibility. My guess if all the local associations took this stance, this kind of behavior would instantly vanish.
And if you wonder why I sound so harsh, I too receiving a backlash, passengers now not trusting me. Hey, I resent being painted with the same stripe, looked at askance when instead, completely innocent, having done nothing personally to create suspicion. I don't like it.
Another Cabbie Suicide in NYC
$700,000 in medallion debt, 56 year old NYC cabbie Yu Mien "Kenny" Chow jumped into the East River and drowned. Missing since mid-May, his body was discovered this week. He was reported to have been despondent over his inability to keep up his payments, thus resorting to taking his life rather than suffer further beneath the top-light. Again, no cab anywhere is worth that kind of money.
Seattle Cab-Jackers Arrested
Ted told me that his assailants have been captured and await trail. His cab remains in police custody.
Postscript 06/04/18
A Yellow Cab cashier (and current cabbie) took notice of my ICE comment, and I couldn't agree more, that the last anything I want to occur is for someone, anyone to be involved in having their immigration status questioned. All I was doing, in shorthand, was stating that actions are consequential, and to not understand that the overcharging of a customer can lead to bad results is more than naive, it is dangerous, posing a direct threat to both the individual and his/her family.
Due to the cashier's comment, I am inspired to to write a very quick and short history of America's history of blatant discrimination against ethnic minorities and people of color, meaning anyone who isn't "whiter than white" as the old laundry detergent jingo went. By readying this brief history I am posting this week, all recent immigrant cabbies will understand beyond a doubt why it is very unwise to think that America's current Federal administration has your best interest in mind. To the contrary, and exact opposite, is far closer to the truth, meaning a very stern Santa Claus is watching to see if you are being "naughty or nice" and what that means to your immediate future. Trump and friends are not playing games, doing anything they can to impede the future of anyone with an income under a million dollars. They want to "kick ass" and that is simply the way it is.
Monday, May 28, 2018
Monday, May 21, 2018
Summer Hiatus Series: Nine Years & Counting---The Challenge of Writing A Weekly Column
"Time, time, I have no time! and it's driving me out of my mind!"
Yes, that's it, that quote, quoting myself capturing my situation as I have no time to adequately accomplish anything, making this achievement of writing 468 plus taxi articles without missing a week miraculous and special, saying much about both dedication and allegiance to a cause, conviction prompting me to weekly take the time to sit down and tell everyone all about it, even if you truly don't want to know.
But it isn't easy, trying to make this subject, taxi, fresh and interesting and not tedious week after month after year. And perhaps even more challenging is ensuring that my prose meets the highest standards, too often disappointing myself when I know my prose styling on a particular day is crap, and despite all efforts remaining what it is: barely a small step above the lexicon rubbish bin.
And the reason is fatigue, I am tired, translating into exhausted prose collapsing upon the page. Having read much JB Priestley, Willie Morris, Willa Cather, Earnest Hemingway, Virginia Wolff, Anita Brookner, Robert Graves, Raymond Carver, Edith Wharton, Charles Dickens I know what good and effective prose is, meaning my standards are high and when falling below what I know is acceptable I am not happy, no, not at all.
Taking last week's article concerning the ongoing madness at Sea-Tac as a good, bad example, my words swollen, over emotional raindrops splattered upon the page, blurring and smudging the text. And yes, I was fully aware when I was writing that I wasn't at all pleased with my composition but felt helpless to do much about it, a poor swimmer just struggling to make it safely to shore.
What does working like I have the past five days, days filled with trademark attorneys flying from one scheduled event to the next, do to the literary mind in its brave attempt to form coherent and eloquent lines into grand sentences and paragraphs encompassing the well executed essay?
Nothing good, I can assure you, execution the proper descriptive, all this taxi nonsense killing the writing mind---words, words, all my words translating into unintelligible gibberish, sentence structure weighed down and mashed by repeatedly doing too much of nothing over and over and over again, all my well-intended phraseology mechanically softened turnip insulting both taste and sight, indigestible and bad and destined for the overheated compost heap, natural manure not for reading but for the growing of garden vegetables.
Yes, that's it, that quote, quoting myself capturing my situation as I have no time to adequately accomplish anything, making this achievement of writing 468 plus taxi articles without missing a week miraculous and special, saying much about both dedication and allegiance to a cause, conviction prompting me to weekly take the time to sit down and tell everyone all about it, even if you truly don't want to know.
But it isn't easy, trying to make this subject, taxi, fresh and interesting and not tedious week after month after year. And perhaps even more challenging is ensuring that my prose meets the highest standards, too often disappointing myself when I know my prose styling on a particular day is crap, and despite all efforts remaining what it is: barely a small step above the lexicon rubbish bin.
And the reason is fatigue, I am tired, translating into exhausted prose collapsing upon the page. Having read much JB Priestley, Willie Morris, Willa Cather, Earnest Hemingway, Virginia Wolff, Anita Brookner, Robert Graves, Raymond Carver, Edith Wharton, Charles Dickens I know what good and effective prose is, meaning my standards are high and when falling below what I know is acceptable I am not happy, no, not at all.
Taking last week's article concerning the ongoing madness at Sea-Tac as a good, bad example, my words swollen, over emotional raindrops splattered upon the page, blurring and smudging the text. And yes, I was fully aware when I was writing that I wasn't at all pleased with my composition but felt helpless to do much about it, a poor swimmer just struggling to make it safely to shore.
What does working like I have the past five days, days filled with trademark attorneys flying from one scheduled event to the next, do to the literary mind in its brave attempt to form coherent and eloquent lines into grand sentences and paragraphs encompassing the well executed essay?
Nothing good, I can assure you, execution the proper descriptive, all this taxi nonsense killing the writing mind---words, words, all my words translating into unintelligible gibberish, sentence structure weighed down and mashed by repeatedly doing too much of nothing over and over and over again, all my well-intended phraseology mechanically softened turnip insulting both taste and sight, indigestible and bad and destined for the overheated compost heap, natural manure not for reading but for the growing of garden vegetables.
Monday, May 14, 2018
Anatomy Of A Crisis: Debate & Chaos At Sea-Tac Airport
Anyone at all familiar with taxi as a business model understands, without being told, that on an annual basis there are a only finite number of fares, something true in the past and remaining valid today. While some might enjoy pointing out that taxi medallion values in a city like New York remain much higher than Seattle's, despite recent dramatic declines, that deviation having more to do with artificial licensing caps than actual business volume. But that doesn't mean that our business climate here in Seattle is healthy, because the exact opposite being true.
The primary reason for this are the high fare rates associated with cabs, often making them the last and not first transportation choice. Why pay $45-50.00 for a taxi from Sea-Tac to downtown Seattle when instead the light-rail link will cost you $3.50? You will have reason take a cab if you have 3 passengers and 4-6 bags but if not, why would you? And overall response has been to choose anything but a taxi.
Unfortunately, now due to Seattle's now legendary traffic congestion, if you are in a hurry, taking a cab might not even get you there any sooner, again eliminating another reason to take that expensive ride. In huge metropolitan areas like Chicago, New York, London, Paris, Mexico City, becoming an ant and descending underground to the subway is usually a far better and more sensible option. So why take a cab? Only when are no good alternatives which, in most situations, is not the case.
All this is another reason why the Uber/Lyft/ride-share model, those direct taxi competitors, is ill conceived, trying to make billions from a million dollar industry. There are real reasons why the recent MIT determined that Uber drivers were only making on average $3.33 per hour, Uber having invaded a very modest taxi industry in an attempt to make it gold-plated. Not a very good or bright idea. But do all those Saudi Arabian and Japanese investors know this? No they don't.
This truncated, strained business scenario exploded upon the local evening news April 17th when a large number of cabbies (members of the Western Washington Taxi Operators Association) serving Sea-Tac participated in a strike action coordinated by Teamsters Local 117, complaining that Eastside (ESFH), the company managing the Sea-Tac contract, was attempting to illegally downsize their fleet by 85 vehicles. The rationale behind ESFH's action, thinking they held legal authority to proceed, was the great decline in Sea-Tac taxi passenger usage due to Uber and Lyft's recent dominance, now carrying over fifty percent of potential Sea-Tac customers requiring a ride home or north to a DT hotel.
This development, embraced and encouraged by the Port of Seattle, has upset what heretofore was a very tenuous balance: 405 taxis and flat-rate vehicles (up from an original 235 taxis) serving a now far smaller market. Given the ride-share onslaught, what is happening was predictable, along with the ensuing anger because, when including Uber and Lyft, you can quickly see there are just too many operators sharing the same customer pie.
Along with the thousands of returning Sea-Tac passengers taking light-rail trains, thousands of others are taking shuttles and town cars in addition to the ordinary custom of being picked up by friends and family. What appears to be clear is the Port of Seattle's focus upon generating revenue has left those once traditional service providers, the cabbies, behind, taxi not only losing their customer base but their very livelihood threatened. And what is now happening is also too predictable, with the victims turning upon themselves, a kind of fraternal cannibalism ugly in its bloody realism, brother eating brother. No, not a pretty sight to behold.
In early April ESFH sent out a notice to all its independent operators entitled "ESFH Notice of Voluntary Reduction in Airport Fleet," stating that due to having too many operators, 85 operators out of the current 405 would have to go due to the obvious drop in Sea-Tac business. What ESFH was offering was a $20,000 buyout to those choosing to go. But item #2 was perhaps less friendly, stating to "Implement fleet-size reduction if voluntary buyout does not result in 85 vehicles." This notice also informed everyone that an answer was required by 5:00 PM April 17, 2018, leaving little time to consider a most monumental business decision.
While at first glance, it seemed the announcement was fair until everyone understood that the remaining 320 operators were required to pay $9000.00 each to finance the buyout. Predictably this pleased no one whatsoever since the majority of them had originally paid $3,985.00 to keep driving at Sea-Tac after ESFH won the contract, this after paying I believe $10,000 over six years ago to Yellow. An additional "salt in the wound" was the $245.00 weekly dispatch fee for an essentially non-existent system. That it has reduced to $160.00 ( including a $95.00 gate fee) perhaps assuaged the tiger but never fully taming the beast. Adding to operator dismay was a rotation system limiting them to 4 days on, 3 days off at the Port, forcing many to work downtown Seattle and the misery of languishing upon hotel stands staring at the dashboard hours upon end.
The upshot of all this was the portrayal of ESFH as a renegade company that completely disregards established operating norms, often threatening their independent operators with termination while protecting others, especially Somali immigrant operators. While some of this appears be both reality and myth, it might be indisputable that ESFH entered the Sea-tac market not fully comprehending the financial side of what it had committed itself to, like so many other associations incorrectly viewing Sea-Tac as the proverbial "pot-of-gold," Sea-Tac the "Golden Goose" superior to the turkey that is the Seattle and King County taxi market.
From the beginning, ESFH saw itself as being bullied by the local taxi single owner community, Teamsters Local 117 and the Port of Seattle (specifically the Port Commission); and because of that, took on an aggressive response, not caring who they alienated, their "us against the world" stance a middle finger at all presiding authority, saying, perhaps rightly, that they never wanted all those extra operators forced upon them; and sole responsibility lie not with ESFH but with the Port of Seattle and its labor ally, Teamsters 117.
Initially becoming a shouting match, it quickly quieted down after Mike Merritt, Port of Seattle Chief of Staff wrote ESFH a letter telling them that legally they were not entitled to either reduce or dismiss their independent contractors. That admonishment led to to a May 5th, 2018 ESFH response backtracking from previous statements, even stating a new policy of allowing operators to potentially work seven days a week, even though that might be a terrible idea in Sea-Tac's greatly diminished customer environment.
Given these recent developments, there appears to a temporary lull in active combat but unlike the famous WWI Christmas 1914 truce between front line British and German troops, I have no reports of carols sung or gifts of plum puddings and cigarettes exchanged, meaning tensions clearly remain high and could instantly flare upon the smallest provocation. I can only wish that commonsense reigns during ESFH's remaining 1 1/2 years contractual years, with everyone focusing upon regaining some small percentage of lost customer base. My major hope is that the Port of Seattle will somehow, someway enhance the ability of both ESFH and the cabbies to increase profitability because this is truly a economic issue transformed into cultural argument, something many have lost sight of.
As said earlier, this kind of infighting does little good, only heightening animosity. I believe a huge attitudinal adjustment on all sides is due, and the faster this happens, the better it will be. Part of what I mean is when I told someone today that some E-Cab single owners held hope to eventually win the contract upon its expiration, the immediate reaction was that they must be delusional. How can wanting to be in charge of one's own financial destiny be equated to a kind of psychosis? I just can't agree with that kind of response.
Above all, I feel, coming from all sides of this discussion, that we must have openness and clarity. Without that, we in the taxi industry are doomed, not only at Sea-Tac but everywhere in the USA where top-lights illuminate the night, beckoning everyone to hop in and move down the road. Shall all of us then calm down, engaging in productive conversation? If it can be done in the midst of a shooting war, it certainly can happen with this situation.
And why not? There is no earthly reason not to converse and shake hands. None of us are the enemy. Instead, recognize the opposite, that we are friends. Once that is understood, then resolution will be found. It is that simple.
The primary reason for this are the high fare rates associated with cabs, often making them the last and not first transportation choice. Why pay $45-50.00 for a taxi from Sea-Tac to downtown Seattle when instead the light-rail link will cost you $3.50? You will have reason take a cab if you have 3 passengers and 4-6 bags but if not, why would you? And overall response has been to choose anything but a taxi.
Unfortunately, now due to Seattle's now legendary traffic congestion, if you are in a hurry, taking a cab might not even get you there any sooner, again eliminating another reason to take that expensive ride. In huge metropolitan areas like Chicago, New York, London, Paris, Mexico City, becoming an ant and descending underground to the subway is usually a far better and more sensible option. So why take a cab? Only when are no good alternatives which, in most situations, is not the case.
All this is another reason why the Uber/Lyft/ride-share model, those direct taxi competitors, is ill conceived, trying to make billions from a million dollar industry. There are real reasons why the recent MIT determined that Uber drivers were only making on average $3.33 per hour, Uber having invaded a very modest taxi industry in an attempt to make it gold-plated. Not a very good or bright idea. But do all those Saudi Arabian and Japanese investors know this? No they don't.
This truncated, strained business scenario exploded upon the local evening news April 17th when a large number of cabbies (members of the Western Washington Taxi Operators Association) serving Sea-Tac participated in a strike action coordinated by Teamsters Local 117, complaining that Eastside (ESFH), the company managing the Sea-Tac contract, was attempting to illegally downsize their fleet by 85 vehicles. The rationale behind ESFH's action, thinking they held legal authority to proceed, was the great decline in Sea-Tac taxi passenger usage due to Uber and Lyft's recent dominance, now carrying over fifty percent of potential Sea-Tac customers requiring a ride home or north to a DT hotel.
This development, embraced and encouraged by the Port of Seattle, has upset what heretofore was a very tenuous balance: 405 taxis and flat-rate vehicles (up from an original 235 taxis) serving a now far smaller market. Given the ride-share onslaught, what is happening was predictable, along with the ensuing anger because, when including Uber and Lyft, you can quickly see there are just too many operators sharing the same customer pie.
Along with the thousands of returning Sea-Tac passengers taking light-rail trains, thousands of others are taking shuttles and town cars in addition to the ordinary custom of being picked up by friends and family. What appears to be clear is the Port of Seattle's focus upon generating revenue has left those once traditional service providers, the cabbies, behind, taxi not only losing their customer base but their very livelihood threatened. And what is now happening is also too predictable, with the victims turning upon themselves, a kind of fraternal cannibalism ugly in its bloody realism, brother eating brother. No, not a pretty sight to behold.
In early April ESFH sent out a notice to all its independent operators entitled "ESFH Notice of Voluntary Reduction in Airport Fleet," stating that due to having too many operators, 85 operators out of the current 405 would have to go due to the obvious drop in Sea-Tac business. What ESFH was offering was a $20,000 buyout to those choosing to go. But item #2 was perhaps less friendly, stating to "Implement fleet-size reduction if voluntary buyout does not result in 85 vehicles." This notice also informed everyone that an answer was required by 5:00 PM April 17, 2018, leaving little time to consider a most monumental business decision.
While at first glance, it seemed the announcement was fair until everyone understood that the remaining 320 operators were required to pay $9000.00 each to finance the buyout. Predictably this pleased no one whatsoever since the majority of them had originally paid $3,985.00 to keep driving at Sea-Tac after ESFH won the contract, this after paying I believe $10,000 over six years ago to Yellow. An additional "salt in the wound" was the $245.00 weekly dispatch fee for an essentially non-existent system. That it has reduced to $160.00 ( including a $95.00 gate fee) perhaps assuaged the tiger but never fully taming the beast. Adding to operator dismay was a rotation system limiting them to 4 days on, 3 days off at the Port, forcing many to work downtown Seattle and the misery of languishing upon hotel stands staring at the dashboard hours upon end.
The upshot of all this was the portrayal of ESFH as a renegade company that completely disregards established operating norms, often threatening their independent operators with termination while protecting others, especially Somali immigrant operators. While some of this appears be both reality and myth, it might be indisputable that ESFH entered the Sea-tac market not fully comprehending the financial side of what it had committed itself to, like so many other associations incorrectly viewing Sea-Tac as the proverbial "pot-of-gold," Sea-Tac the "Golden Goose" superior to the turkey that is the Seattle and King County taxi market.
From the beginning, ESFH saw itself as being bullied by the local taxi single owner community, Teamsters Local 117 and the Port of Seattle (specifically the Port Commission); and because of that, took on an aggressive response, not caring who they alienated, their "us against the world" stance a middle finger at all presiding authority, saying, perhaps rightly, that they never wanted all those extra operators forced upon them; and sole responsibility lie not with ESFH but with the Port of Seattle and its labor ally, Teamsters 117.
Initially becoming a shouting match, it quickly quieted down after Mike Merritt, Port of Seattle Chief of Staff wrote ESFH a letter telling them that legally they were not entitled to either reduce or dismiss their independent contractors. That admonishment led to to a May 5th, 2018 ESFH response backtracking from previous statements, even stating a new policy of allowing operators to potentially work seven days a week, even though that might be a terrible idea in Sea-Tac's greatly diminished customer environment.
Given these recent developments, there appears to a temporary lull in active combat but unlike the famous WWI Christmas 1914 truce between front line British and German troops, I have no reports of carols sung or gifts of plum puddings and cigarettes exchanged, meaning tensions clearly remain high and could instantly flare upon the smallest provocation. I can only wish that commonsense reigns during ESFH's remaining 1 1/2 years contractual years, with everyone focusing upon regaining some small percentage of lost customer base. My major hope is that the Port of Seattle will somehow, someway enhance the ability of both ESFH and the cabbies to increase profitability because this is truly a economic issue transformed into cultural argument, something many have lost sight of.
As said earlier, this kind of infighting does little good, only heightening animosity. I believe a huge attitudinal adjustment on all sides is due, and the faster this happens, the better it will be. Part of what I mean is when I told someone today that some E-Cab single owners held hope to eventually win the contract upon its expiration, the immediate reaction was that they must be delusional. How can wanting to be in charge of one's own financial destiny be equated to a kind of psychosis? I just can't agree with that kind of response.
Above all, I feel, coming from all sides of this discussion, that we must have openness and clarity. Without that, we in the taxi industry are doomed, not only at Sea-Tac but everywhere in the USA where top-lights illuminate the night, beckoning everyone to hop in and move down the road. Shall all of us then calm down, engaging in productive conversation? If it can be done in the midst of a shooting war, it certainly can happen with this situation.
And why not? There is no earthly reason not to converse and shake hands. None of us are the enemy. Instead, recognize the opposite, that we are friends. Once that is understood, then resolution will be found. It is that simple.
Thursday, May 10, 2018
Occasional Summer Hiatus Series: How To Make Money When There Ain't None
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.
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.
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.
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