New Year

This is a logical time to mark down what is important to me. At New Year I like to set multiple short term goals and long term goals. Some of the goals are shared, so I will be accountable for the success or corrections. I create a list in writing and refer to as the time goes away. I keep the list under password. (My bucket list is there, too.)

This year, I have about one third of my goals for 2008 complete. Sounds like a failure. Only 1/3 complete. However, I have all 1/3 of them behind me. Period.

What became of the other 2/3? (Some I deleted along the way) The remainder may go on the list I will create after today, before New Years Day.

Here is what has become important to me:

My list crosses four areas of my day (life).

1. What I expect of myself this day.
2. What I will have forever behind me after today.
3. What I will have started today.
4. A review at the end of the day, from which I can sleep on the plan for the next day.
5. Some days I elect to not have a list just for the sanity that decision gives me.

Am I nuts?

This process is clearly supportive to filling the day – my way.

I am focused on the projects and goal steps early enough in the day to have them in action at the beginning of the day.

By having my list before the day starts, I get a head start over the procrastination that is fed by a late start on a goal.

I have an outline of the path my day will take if I manage my time.

In doing this planning exercise, I am early on able to see when a planned goal step is outside the plan. I can leave it incomplete and I can plan on when it fits back in – as the plan changes. (A goal step is one of the steps toward an entire goal being complete.)

I have done this on paper for years. Often the day gets so full I lay it on paper to help me catch all of the details.

Anyone want a coach?

I can offer the best source to learn these skills. This coaching has saved me hours, removed struggle, replaced disappointment with accomplishment and freed my mind to support me being who I want to be each day – everyday.

It is sort of like planning the day as a Cab Driver.

I knew when to wait at a Cab Stand for a good trip to the airport. I knew when to be in the Safeway parking lot in East downtown to catch as many as was possible of those short trips with those huge flag drop fees. I knew when to be at the airport to meet those incoming flights. I knew which schools had kids that rode a cab to music lessons, babysitter, or to mom’s or dad’s work each day.

So, let me know if you are serious about having the life you want. I decided a few years ago to go for it. I have not looked back except to smile and swat myself on the back for one of the best rides I have ever taken.
Fare is paid by the great shift in my life.
CABBY

Christmas Day

I went to bed at 1 a.m. when I tried to convince Judy, who had been asleep for hours, that it was 6:30 a.m. and that we'd better get up and get the lumps of coal exchanged so we would have time to fix dinner for 4 p.m. (for seven people)
The ruse didn't work. She opened an envelope with cash in the dark and I went to sleep.
She never even looked at the contents in the envelope.

I got up at 5:30 a.m. and read until 6:30 a.m. when she rushed in (NOT) and we opened gifts from around our world.

They were all perfect. Shirt, VHS to DVD translator transfer machine, Raven for the roof, book about the 60's and its discontents, a recipe organizer binder, three more shirts, a snow flake emblazoned 600 degree spatula, a world class pheasant hunting trip to TX panhandle, Judy's old sewing machine (since I gave her a new one).

No partridge in a pear tree. I did however, see a peacock on a yard wall three days ago over by COSTCO.

We finished the greed part about 10 minutes to 8 a.m. Oh yeah, Judy also got some gifts.

Then our day started:

I sat in a chair alone while Judy fixed posole' for herself. I thought about all those young people all around the world making sure I was as safe as I could be here in the homeland. Doesn't that word homeland have a different meaning since 9-11?

8 a.m. came and went. I was content to recall a Christmas in 1963 off the coast of Okinawa in an APA (208) awaiting the saber rattling to quiet down in Viet Nam where Colin Powell and his troops were 'advisers.' Man did that whole thing change!
That change was not good.

It was good to reflect.

'Thank you' to each of those young Americans who serve each Christmas Day, and today to those who are serving now.!

It is a shame that some of the people of this country cannot sense the good we are doing around the world. It is a wonderful country this experiment of free people. I am so happy to be here. I love this country.

I respect that even though we do not all agree that the conflict in Iraq is noble, that we are at least establishing a foothold for freedom for Women and children and young girls and college students and literacy about the entire world and all of the beliefs that conflict with each other.

Imagine any woman you can. - Now picture her wearing a burqa.

To me that says it all.

Merry Christmas in the best place in the world.

Fare is paid, no one can afford the cab on a holiday.
CABBY

Baghdad time

At 8 a.m. Eastern daylight savings time it is 4 p.m. in Baghdad.
At 8 a.m. Central daylight savings time it is 5 p.m. in Baghdad.
At 8 a.m. Mountain daylight savings time it is 6 p.m. in Baghdad.
At 8 a.m. Pacific daylight savings time it is 7 p.m. in Baghdad.
At 8 a.m. Alaska daylight savings time it is 8 p.m. in Baghdad.
At 8 a.m. Hawaii daylight savings time it is 9 p.m. in Baghdad.
At 8 a.m. Kabul, Afghanistan it is 6:30 a.m. in Baghdad.

During your sharing the joy of giving and receiving on Christmas, If you are inclined, at 8 a.m. pause and consider our troops and countrymen and women serving us for our way of life. Think how differently they must feel right then.

source: time and date.com (time zone converter)
No fare, cab is parked to think of our Combined military forces.
CABBY

Ramadan

The ninth month of the Islamic lunar calendar arrives with the sighting of the new moon. The month of Ramadan is a special period for Muslims the world around – a time for inner reflection, devotion to God, reading of the Qur’an, charity, and fulfillment of the third pillar of Islam, fasting. During this lunar month, Muslims fast from dawn to sunset and likewise abstain from smoking and sex. A meal sahoor, is eaten before sunrise and a much larger one, iftar, after sunset. Iftar is often communally celebrated with family and friends. The last ten days of Ramadan are a time of spiritual power and commemorate the revelation of the Qur’an to the Prophet Mohammed. The twenty-seventh night of the month is known as Laitlat al-Qadr, on which the Archangel Gabriel revealed the first verses of the Qur’an to the Prophet. The first three days of the tenth month in the Islamic Calendar, which is determined by the sighting of the crescent moon marking the new month, are known as Eid al Fitr, a period of celebration and feasting.

Peter R. Mansoor “Baghdad at Sunrise” A Brigade Commander’s War in Iraq

This is to help all who have wondered without clarity about a most important holiday in the Muslim world.

Fare paid.
CABBY

Grandsons

All grandsons are entities that have no equal.

Kendahl is mine. I am his only surviving grandpa.

With the only surviving title comes some interesting responsibility and pressure.

I love him. I love the special relationship and all it entails.

He proved himself to be a chip off of his other grandfather and his dad and hopefully me this past weekend.

We went pheasant hunting in the panhandle of Texas.

He was successful in bagging his target and all of the hunters in the group seemed comfortable with his obvious awareness of the seriousness of having a gun in his hands.

Not once did I consider that he had more to learn: Bravo!!

This posting was interrupted by a glitch, at my fault.
I hope all understand how inept I am at this computer stuff.

So, who is next to plese me?

Good job Kendahl. You make your grandpa Dale and I am sure your Grandfather Norris very proud.

Oh yeah, Thanks to Will for doing such a complete job of instilling gun safety in Kendahl.

Fare was paid by my pride of Kendahl this trip.
CABBY (Grandpa Dale)

Reality

We are a country that yet today has a government that serves at the pleasure of the people. There are others that profess to be like us, however their structure is a replication of only some of the parts of what makes us – us.

Imagine how it must have seemed to the men and women of the first 13 states to say to the world: “We the people….”

It had never been done.

These people had to create everything – a new reality - so to speak. They had to create (make from nothing; bring into being) recognition from Kings and Dictators and Princes and Rulers of all existing authorities around the world the acceptance of a group of men who declared into existence the very thing that these other countries were not and had never been. The other entities of rule and control were ALL - not - “We the people….”

So this is reality. How does this fit in here today?

Within this country is the only opportunity to be truly yourself and become what ever you are capable of becoming. There are no longer any of us white males that can legitimately consider ourselves ‘the only,’ ‘the exclusive,’ the expected,’ ‘the most entitled,’ ‘the best’ or ‘the leader.’

Think about what has shifted.

Power to all of the downtrodden, expectations of the excluded, hopes of the destitute and opportunity where only limit existed before 11 p.m. November 4, 2008 – all of this has been created by “We the people….”

Reality (the quality or state of being real) is what the rulers and Kings and Dictators had to accept. Reality is ours to accept, or fight over, and then accept. Accepting reality is not a choice. Moving forward is a necessity, so let us make sure we do not ‘be’ one of the doubters, and cause a delay in finally becoming “We the people….” because “All men are created equal….”

Note:

This discussion came to me as a result of an email I received yesterday. I was mired down in my life. I was focused on the travails and problems I will have in the future as a result of the economy being so devastated and different than I had planned.

I will quote the principle part of that email here:

“Sorry I have been MIA for so long. All of the sudden my life has grown so very busy. Work is driving me up a wall - my business has all but dried up. I have to lay another rep off next week and not looking forward to it. Sales are nearly non-existent. My sister Diane had a massive stroke this past Monday and is not responsive. My brothers and sister think she is near the end. We have decided to pass on heroics concerning her. Her quality of life sucks, and she will be better off if the end comes quickly. May God have mercy on us if we are wrong?

Anyway, other than that crap my life is perfect.”

That is reality. I am fortunate to have all of my relatives, health, a charming and loving wife and responsible, participating progeny. I am back to reality, where I can accept the gift of a new sunrise each day, a breath of air, and a smile from Judy. My life is perfect.

CABBY

Where do these thoughts come from?

Consider that racial prejudice didn't always exist.

Consider that it had to have started sometime.

Wonder what created it?

Be so thrilled that we might be living when it doesn't exist - today.

What will it take for that to be the case?

Work. A lot of work. Unrelenting work. Intent.

It will require that our Intent be followed only by actions necessary for each of us to individually chose to not 'be' prejudice anymore. No other action will get our intent fulfilled.

Following our consciously making that our intent, we will 'be' our Intent followed by the action necessary to have the measure of our real intent (results) reflect the intent fulfilled.

But this will be required in and of, each and every one of us. Yes. You. And me. And them, and those people over there, and the ones who live down there and the ones across there. Every one.

It is going to require that we become color aware after we are individual aware.

It is possible. It is desirable. It is necessary. It is the only way we will all have any offspring still alive when the planet reaches its end.

Prejudice is a system of saying: I do not have your best interests in mind when I live my day.

Prejudice is a way of placing ourselves ahead of the human race. No one will ever be better than anyone else ever again if we all agree to that being the least of what we will accept.

So here in America we have chosen to not see our President as a black man first.

Why don't we take the next step and chose all other people who are not exactly like us?

The wonder of this is that we can chose to change the pattern of tolerance that we have come to accept; individuals of minorities accepted across the prejudicial barrier. Examples most visible to me are athletes and celebrities.

When we have truly stepped into our best future, we will have accepted any and all minorities across the prejudicial border to the extent that we will not be using the word prejudice when referring to the present, only when referring to the past.

Oh hell, I know what I mean.
CABBY

We have a Chance to choose

Post election at 12 midnight Tuesday 11-4-2008.

So where do we go from here?

"We" as used herein is defined as the collection of voters that voted any one of the three ways I see possible in this election:
1. For the winning candidate.
2. For a different candidate.
3. A vote incorrectly cast and/or didn't vote.
We have admitted that it is in us to set aside the context of serious leadership in America as being a white mans domain.

We have a chance to:

We have a chance to admit that we can have friends without color or race being the earliest consideration.

We have a chance to acknowledge that the younger people are capable of seeing and then following through when they know that things are better done their way.

We have a chance to see in ourselves what we were not willing to see before this election.

We have this one first chance to leave all that ill perceived experience behind and to never look back at that way of 'being' - ever again.

We have a chance to place the benefit of this change of perception as a priority and to have a desired different experience than we could have had prior to the election.

We have a chance to acknowledge that we are at a time when it is important to see what directions and priorities are important to us.

Knowing all of that:
We can redefine ourselves.
We can create a new paradigm.
We are at a place where we can transform.

The following I am wrriting at 10 p.m. (Ten hours later.)

This may be a little nuts, a little woo-woo, a little over the top or under the horizon to some of you.
If nuts or woo woo or over or under is how you see it, know that that perception is to me like my life prior to this new life I woke up to, Post election 2008.

I saw two young boys going into the library today running and dodging and giggling and having fun. I observed them at first glance as 'two cute little boys'. Prior to the election I would have seen two Hispanic boys first. Maybe after having judged them as Hispanic I would then have seen them as 'two cute little boys' with the Hispanic prejudicing my observation. If I could communicate this clearly you would know that I see differently today than I have ever prior to today.
I had to smile to myself, because I liked having this clearer vision of them. I liked that I am sure that I knew how they felt: first they felt like little boys, and probably did not feel at all like Hispanic boys.

This was a small thing, however it was monumental for me. I chose to 'be' in a different way for me. I choose to be different. I choose to be 'change'.

This whole day has been like I was a young boy with the innate knowledge that all of us have been given a chance to do it right this time.
We do not have to answer for how we were. We will always be responsible for how we are - how we choose to 'be' in everything we do. Life is choices. Choose to be who you want to be. You will never have an earlier chance in your life. You are the only one who gets to choose for you.

So, as I look at the change America is going to experience, it looks nothing like it looked while I was listening to two men spin it. It has gone from a nebulous undefined term to a personal choice.

I sense a sadness for my parents and grandparents because they couldn't experience this day. I have the shared experience with them of their having lived in a narrower time than we have stepped into today.

I will have more to say on all of this.
Change. It is easy. It is a choice. Join me, I chose for me, I ask of you to choose for you.

I am determined to live better, longer and to be loving powerful and free.
Dale

44th and 1st

Well, here we go on a wonderful adventure.
I think I will park my cab and just type for a while.

I am ready to renew the dedication to this wonderful experiment.


"I pledge myself to do and be my best for all of my fellow Americans".

CABBY

Tell Me It Isn’t So

It is though.

The voting has begun, and we will next be noticing whose chest will be saying: 1 20 13.

When will those divisive bumper stickers come off the cars? I saw a Kerry and a Bush sticker as recently as last week.

We can complain and make the statement, “Don’t blame me, I didn’t vote for him”.

Who wants to go into business with me selling count down clocks and T shirts?

Or

Maybe he will be the answer to our needs and we will say, “I voted for him.” and be making excuses for him.

Please don't gloat. It is rude and a put down. My mom would wash your mouth out with soap if you did it around her.

Either way, I will always not tell you how I voted. My mom used to say that to vote was “a responsibility, and it is none of your business how I voted”.

In the past I recall that it was important to me how others voted. I realize this year that I do not care, as neither of them spoke to me about the important issues that might have been cause for me to say, “Ah hah, that does it, I’m voting for him”.

There will be graft, favors repaid, cronies, social issues reflected in the new Supreme Court Justices appointed and a new first pet. There will be four more pardoned turkeys and four more more egg rolls, there will be four more annual Christmas tree lighting's and four more Fourth of July celebrations. There will be four more laying wreaths on the tomb of the unknown soldier, and the flag will fly at half mast a few more times. All in all, we are still America, don't forget it.

Will he have a global awareness and make green decisions about what cars to buy and be driven around in? Will he cut the emissions of his travel by reducing staff that travels and the size of the press corps that travel? Will he work toward an America that will “Invent, Invent, Invent?”

Will we be smart as a population and not expect him to get any significant policy changes in place within ‘100 days?’

Will he communicate with us? Will he be committed to us? Will he connect with us?

Are we willing to communicate, commit and connect with him?

Let’s all go buy a bumper sticker that says:

"I pledge myself to do and be my best for all of my fellow Americans".

I hope you voted for the winner, we certainly need one.

Fare is paid since it is my gift to help you take on a little extra to remember how lucky we all are to be on this side of the border.

CABBY

"....10 little indian boys"

Yes, I want you to sing the lyrics to that childhood song while reading this.

I will start it for you: "1 Little, 2 little, 3 little indians.."

I have taken it upon myself to bludgeon ten of you with an e mail notice of my posting on this blog. I've finally figured out what 'blog' is the acronym for. ((I know, sentences ought not end in prepositions.)) B = Barely L = Literate O = Old G = Guy. Another just crossed the brain cells: B =Boring L = Lazy O = Outspoken G = Gramps. (I think I know why it isn't used in uppercase.)

I have ten friends / relatives that I have selected as targets for the Indian arrows I am writing. I am just learning to shoot this thing so they are safe for now, from any harm when they see the arrow go past.

I have been reading about the immigration of the non-dinay into the Navaho country, and find that I have had a lot to say for a long time, and just didn't trust that I had it right.
After reading some from the Navaho and some from the immigrants, I am convinced that I might be safe to trust what I consider as worth sharing, at least in part.

That has been the doubt. What is worth expressing? I have no doubt that lots of it is not.

So, if you are on the involuntary cab ride, you can advise me and I will remove you from the pain of watching the arrows bounce, fly or slide past if you would prefer to not be bothered.
For those who are not on the list, let me know, and I will affix the arrow to target you also, if you want to be bothered.

"....Ten little indian boys."

I once had 7 Alaskan Natives in my cab. They were all school children. One was white as she is caucasian (my daughter), and I am not too certain about a few of the others. You see, they were the attendees to my daughters birthday party. She wanted to go skating.

Now the interesting thing is when she gets married next Spring, she wants to go skating.
Some things never change.
Like the prejudice we all deny that is in our daily lives.
This Indian song was meant innocently, however today it is not seen that way. Call that change, or call it shoving the issue under the rug?

Fare is paid. Afterall, it was a birthday party.
CABBY

The World Without Us

The World Without Us

Alan Weisman

The following is stolen from 'The World Without Us' and restructured to combine much of my thinking. (The combining of the book content and my thoughts doesn't imply that I have sound thoughts!)

Suppose we all of a sudden were unable to procreate. (Would some religions forbid intercourse?) (Is this is the old zero growth thinking revisited?)

The first to notice would be the crisis pregnancy centers. No one would be coming in. (Well, maybe coming in - but not coming in.) In a few months, abortion would be out of the dialog. It would be tragic for people who kept trying to conceive. (Maybe they'd eventually begin to see the joy they were having when previously they were principally 'trying'.)

Still, in five years, there would be no more children under five, etc. (Neonatal nurses could take all of the time off they richly deserve.)

How long would it be before we realized the reality of the finality of humans becoming extinct? (When would research face it and focus on living and cleaning the planet?)

The living circumstances of all children would improve as they became less disposable. No orphans would go un-adopted.

In 21 years, there would be no juvenile delinquency. (When would graffiti end?)

By then, as resignation sinks in, would spiritual awakening replace panic? It would have to at least begun to dawn on people that as life drew toward a close, it was improving:

There would be more than enough to eat, and resources would be plentiful, including safe unbottled water. The seas would begin to replenish. And, because new housing wouldn’t be necessary, so would the forests and wetlands, the air, the birds and large mammals. What would we do about Kudzu in North America?

Imagine the health of the last humans.

With no more resource conflicts, how long would we still be wasting lives in combat?

When would we begin to rid the world of the obviously unused, unsightly clutter that would have no purpose after the last one of us died? Imagine recycling as a final industry? Reactors and the fuel for them stored safe beyond doubts, How? Windmills and power lines taken down so the birds would be safe to fly about. Dams removed to revive the rivers. Houses dis-assembled to facilitate the return of natural landscapes. Would wilderness become a desired state of condition for the planet?

What to leave behind? Would we 'need' to leave a legacy? If so,what would we leave as a legacy? Would we remove the concrete channel that we have made the Mighty Missouri?

Would we consciously begin to help rehabilitate the natural wonders of the planet?
Would we leave the physical remnants of our presence to be dealt with in a natural way?
Would we attempt to leave a beautiful place behind as we breathed our last breath??

Would we leave the world so that the last humans could enjoy their final sunsets peacefully, knowing the planet has been returned as close as possible to the ‘Garden of Eden’? (I know, just the concept, not the religious one.) Lighten up.

I picture a beer commercial sunset (bikinis and beer - maybe a little or a lot of pot) at the beach at Ninilchik Creek where it drops into Cook Inlet on the Kenai Peninsula in Alaska. Of course I am imagining a warm summer days end, with a silent dispatch radio, the meter off, and Jimmy Buffet music from the finest portable boom box playing 'Margaritaville' clearly as the sun and my consciousness fade away. (Wait! I was the last human. No bikini!)

If you rode this far, I was not the last human, and I am so glad you wore a bikini.

Fare? No fare, remember the meter was off.
CABBY

Jobs going away - or - workers going away.

I just read that the job market is so bad, that the immigration into this country has slowed WAY down.

I further read that many that are here trying to work are leaving for better prospects the other side of the border.

I will be interesting to see how the Canadians feel about coming to spend their cold months in the Southwest this winter since the economy is forecast to be so bad.

Maybe spring training will be canceled if not enough Canucks come to watch.

Never has a Loony or a Dubloony looked so good.

So now, those of you who routinely say 'Adios' or 'Eh' will need to sharpen up on your English.

Fare is paid.
CABBY

Vote, right?

I did.
Not telling for whom.
Glad it is over.
I ignore for the next few weeks all of the 'spinning'.

This has been a L-O-N-G ride.

Please get out of the cab.

See you again in four years.

Wonder what that will be like?

Will we still be captured by two of the same?

Fare has been picked up by the lack of the truth.
CABBY

100 Years Ago

Let me see, uhm.

Was it only 100 years ago that the Roosevelt administration was replaced with a new President?

Yes, I guess it was.

The 27th President was about to take over.

Who was it? What was his background?

Here he is:
Post Presidential 10th Chief Justice of the U.S.
Family member of a political dynasty.
Republican.
World peace advocate verging on pacifism.
World known for his foreign postings in his career.
Trust busting, improvements to both the I.C.C. and U.S.P.S. were all part of his presidential work. All were seriously effected by his administration.

Yale

So, do you give up?

William Howard Taft 1857 1930 age 52 when sworn in.

I most recall reading of Taft and his allegedly being the cause of Roosevelt starting the 'Bull Moose' party (The Progressive Party).

So now you know. So do you think the politics of the country are at all similar today?

Didn't McCain wrest the party form the Republicans? Didn't Obama wrest the party from the Clinton's?
Didn't McCain come from a self made dynasty in politics? Isn't Obama a self made dynasty in politics?

What are we in for?

Fare has been paid. This trip has been almost as horrifyingly remembered as:

On a cold mid spring day, a lady tried to pet a calf moose in the walkway to a classroom building on the campus of the University of Alaska in Anchorage. She was stomped to death by the cow moose. They put down the mother moose.

Are we about to have such a perplexing experience?
CABBY

My apology to Nancy Pelosi

I have allowed myself to make a judgment about the Speaker of The House of Representatives.

I am not proud of that judgment. I made an incorrect judgment.

I apologize to The Honorable Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of The House.

I regret taking that stand. I apologize to any one else I may have taken that judgment to in conversation.

Thank you for taking this trip which reminds me of a location in Anchorage I used to take fares to.

Up on the upper 'hillside' area of Anchorage, there was a restaurant called "Stuck Again".
This restaurants' reputation and the price of a meal there were legendary. It was a favored destination for well heeled visitors to the city.

In the winter it was virtually impossible for the average car to climb the hill to the restaurant. I frequently would wait at the bottom of the hill and drive multiple diners to the parking lot and then return later to drive back to the wide spot at the bottom of the hill to the cars that diners had parked while eating dinner. I often ran this trip in relays, fares up and fares down.

The fare each way was $20.00. The distance was about 5 miles.

At the bottom of the parking lot just outside the restaurant was a ridge that was the start of a straight drive about 200 yards up the hill and an elevation rise of about 75 icy slick and shiny feet.

I would simply reverse the car in the driveway and slowly back up the hill to deliver my fares to the sanded icy walkway entrance to the restaurant.

I delivered some very famous people there over the winters. If I were star struck, those could be some other stories.

So the likeness to this story, is that I have reversed myself once again.

Fare is paid.
CABBY

Anticipation and responsibility

Well, I did it. I stuck my neck out to about 40 of my e mail contacts. About current events - how silly am I?

I am anticipating a straight accurate discussion tonight on Charlie Rose tonight.

I told these friends about an interview on PBS tonight across the country.

Let's see what wrath I may have wrought.

I am hoping to get some sense of what Warren Buffett has to say to my friends.

I will be okay, a mess or not have any measurable difference on the other side of this program tonight.

I just hope I have not misled my friends.

CABBY

Boondoggle

What we are watching happen to us (the ordinary people of the US) is pathetic.

To consider that there is any possibilities of either of the two parties (D) (R) having our best interests seem to have been proven absolutely not probable.

To watch a country's citizenry have their life savings destroyed in such short order, reflects the greed that is rampant in America.

I fully expect to be bankrupt before this power struggle and the pathetic partisan posturing has run the course.

All I can say to any of you who might stumble across this diatribe is: "NUTS!"

To charge cab fare here would be obscene - as we all have so little asset to use to pay.
You have just taken a "Ride on the Reading" to partially quote a monopoly game card.

Fare is paid.
CABBY

Pres debate No. 1

Well, neither of them were in my cab.

He didn't change my mind.

No fare is due, still awaiting the next fare.

CABBY

Murderers and the system

March 12, 1996 Peter Matthias Sanson was murdered on the streets of Denver.

Three accomplices all actually held a knife and violently stabbed Peter a total of more than thirty times.

All three were sent to prison.
Murderer number one:
While in custody, she walked away from a day work crew. In the days of before political correctness, she 'escaped'. Using today's mumbo-jumbo she didn't 'return at the end of the day'.

She became pregnant while an 'escaped' interstate fugitive. She was apprehended at a truck stop in the mid-west. (Be careful in truck stops). She was later released from prison and was out in less than 12 years total time served for MURDER! Paroled. What horseshit!

Murderer number two:
Now up for parole hearings which started last January. We drove 400 miles in the winter mountains of Colorado to attend his first parole hearing. We spent the night in a motel, stayed away from our business for two days, disrupted our lives with the whole memory of the tragic loss of a son being murdered in Denver to attend the hearing. (This is a traumatic event folks!)

We arrive for the hearing to learn that this murderer has to attend the hearing from solitary confinement. How in the hell does that make sense?

If you are so socially inept to be housed in solitary confinement during the time frame of your parole hearing dates, doesn't common sense direct clear thinking to say; PAROLE not considered?

Nope. Wrong! It only means that the 'hearing' is conducted via closed circuit video.
(How is that solitary?) How is that making sense? I actually think this is a perfect example of the inmates running the asylum!
He was denied parole. Nuts. As if?

Now in the last week in the mail, we receive a notice from the Colorado Department of Corrections:
In accordance with blah blah blah, this dickhead is about to be referred for possible placement in a community corrections program (halfway house)'.

So, we are again dragged into this murderers sewer of a life to write our letters asking for sanity. We have asked for the maximum security bars to stay locked around his worthless ass and that he not be placed in any kind of half way house.

What I didn't say in my letter is that it would be way short of right to place him in a halfway house filled with ice water to just above how high he can sustain himself afloat while naked and alone until he expires. Now it would be fun to know that was a possibility. If we can say something clearly, it certainly isn't through the parole system. He could alternatively be sent to live in the ground with Peter.

I am not knocking the parole boards of CO, I am knocking the citizens of America that have allowed their country to become some politically correct cesspool of permissiveness that allows a murderer to be considered for parole at 12 years confinement when he was sentenced to 28 years. He should serve every day of the sentence without credit for good behavior - period.

Well, if he were in my cab, I can tell you for sure he would turn up NEVER at the end of his ride.

Fare paid. I am sure I could speak plainer, however I wouldn't want to incriminate myself for actions I may have opportunity or intent to take at some future date.

Remember, one murderer has already been released out there into this passive / violent, permissive / vigilante, forgiving / revengeful, healthy / possible terminal and fearless society.
If I haven't spoken clearly, and there are any questions, write me.
(Murderer number three is doing life without parole, so he is out of reach)....
Leave your remarks here.
CABBY

Hello?

Here we are, post Olympic; pre-election; beginning in Afghanistan; lame duck; wildly polarized parties; ineffective congress. Porous borders, medical care in ruins, CEO salaries at an obscene level

No one in America's government is willing to say: "Mistakes were made." They might be willing to say; "Mistakes were made, but not by me"

Now then, I was asked this question tonight.

What would you lay down as your political platform were you campaigning for the office of President?
I was given time to consider an answer, and then spouted off a list of items. Some of them are more the territory of the congress than the President.

By answering honestly, I stumbled into an area of the Universe where no smart man had ever stumbled before. Not real smart am I?

The list as I recall it in no particular order included:

Flat tax (25%)for all income generating efforts.

Government administered, doctor and patient treatment deciding medical care for all.
Insurance companies placed on a schedule to make only enough profit to pay the costs of the care, and adopt a non profit position. Removal of malpractice suits from the courts, to hearings overseen by boards of non insurance representatives. (Remember there are no more medical insurance cos.)

Doctors paid $250,000.

A medical services price schedule determined by a commission of doctors, patients and bureaucrats.

Any doctor who wants to make more will have the option of charging through payment outside the national program. To offer outside the system care, each doctor will have a regular patient care responsibility fulfilled, or find another way to make their income other than patient visits inside or outside the US medical system. Doctors will meet so many patients within the system, or see no patients at all.

Government paid college education after each student works for the military for two years. Education through PhD for any student who can achieve the degree.

All US citizens will serve two years for the government between 18 yoa and 20 yoa.

Private and State Universities will have strict and equal achievement standards.

All applying immigrants will prove oral proficiency in English when taking the citizenship exam. Tested literacy in written English will return a $10,000 financial reward at time of citizenship award. Failure to pass these tests is a one time event. Permanent deportation for non English oral proficiency. One chance only to test.

Any illegal immigrant after 2010 will be permanently banned from immigration.

Immediately implement a one year cycle for any illegal immigrant in the country now to take the exam and take the steps to legal citizenship. Deportation will be permanent for any who do not meet the standard.

Every highway and railway bridge will be replaced or repaired. All Interstate highways will be replaced or repaired. All Federal Infrastructure will be replaced or repaired. All Federal employees will be skill tested every three years to retain their jobs. All teachers will be skill tested every three years to retain their jobs.

All eligible citizen will be given a 1% income tax credit for voting in the Federal election every two years. Credit is for only one year.

I first wrote this September 9th.
Oh well, I wish I'd known about the economy. I'd have said more.
Thanks for taking this ride. We only have 19 days to go.
I'm going to go vote tomorrow, if I can get time....
Fare is paid.
CABBY

Oh, my!

I picked up this fare in Dallas in November 2004. He is still riding in my cab. Hopefully he will bring macaroni salad to the party some day.

My friend David has advised us that he is not immortal. Some sort of serious ticker problem has come up it seems.

He is such a wonderful man, friend, husband, father, employee, farmer, beer consultant, visitor, co KISS (M3E) LP147 band member, vegan, American, presence in my life that I will be saddened if he has to begin to struggle with his health at his young age.

If I had to tell you about important people in this life, I would first think of David. You see, I was able to create David for myself as I want him to be. I was able to accept him as he presented himself.

He taught me that when people are who they want to be, they are just so incredibly wonderful. I watched the butterfly in him appear. I was there! I watched his experience of real self acceptance occur and was able to trust that if it worked for him, it could work for me. I transferred from the place I imagined others wanted me to be, to the place where I wanted to be as I was seeing it happen for him. I leaned on him, hard. Thanks in large part to David, I am having the life I want for me.

(Picture two old guys having an epiphany.) It must be something to watch! It is wonderful to experience. David and I can even prove flying is possible without an airplane. Ha ha. I am really laughing here, David.

I was able to spend time involved in numerous events with him in person. The learning from him at those shared events has been having such a long term effect on the experience I am having on the top side of the earth, that it seems unreal to consider seriously that he is not immortal. That is not to say that I worship him as though he has everlasting life, it is just that he is such a bright light in me that I have been ‘brought up short’ to consider him and failing health in the same thought.

How do you know you have made a mistake?
Just think of someone who was alive, that you didn’t fully express your appreciation for - then, they died before you could. (I have reworked that sentence repeatedly, and have just settled for what is written now).

So, my appreciation for David has been made clear, if inadequate, here.

A giant has a threat to his health. In a goofy way this altered my experience of richness of life. Is this some sort of ironic ‘pay it forward’?

I have worked hard at paying forward ‘good’ things in life. David lives ‘paying it forward’ as a daily part of his life. He just does it, know what I mean?

So, here is the deal: Life is full of unexpected opportunities. Life has this interesting way of slapping us up along side the head to remind us that we are only in charge of things we can control. Life has just shown me that the influence we have over others has a random way of manifesting.

David, all who shared those events together are interested in and affected by what you are going through. Our personal lives are deeply changed as a result of just the news that you are not immortal.

Love to you.

If you have read this far, you must know the cab fare for the trip is paid. You must also know that it is too soon too late, so just do it!
CABBY

Watch out!

We are driving North on the Old Seward Highway {OSH} (misnamed, as it is the old road to Seward, but no longer a highway, just a typical two lane in each direction street). The intersection at Airport Road is wide, with open great visibility in each direction.

Watch out!
An old Cadillac nearly runs me and my fare off of the street as we are headed north.

I see a police car about a quarter-block away headed toward me at this intersection.

I have a red light. I run the red light. I am immediately stopped and the cop says you will seriously pay for this…. I explain that I ran the red light to get his attention to the fact that there is a drunk driver that nearly ran me off of the street up ahead on OSH. I explained that I will drop my fare and meet him where ever he wants as soon as I do if he still needs to give me a ticket for the red light violation if he will just go check out the other car. He races off, red light and siren.

I go on to where the fare was to be dropped.

As we discussed the incident the fare said, I think what you did was over the requirements, and I want to go with you when the cop calls. He/she gave me the information on how to reach them for the next couple of hours, and went on about their day.

I seem to remember that they went to the IRS bldg, but that is irrelevant.

I never received a call form the cop, however I did receive a call from the fare when the day was over, asking about the conclusion of the incident.

Moral of the story: Intent is measured by the results.
I intended to protect others, and I simply protected myself and my fare.

So, what is the intent of the US in the world?

Multiple choice test:
1. Change everyone to Christianity.
2. Have an end to terrorism no matter the costs.
3. Secure the Iraqi oil.
4. Win more Gold Medals.
5. Win – win.

I hope you have read this far. If you did, the fare is paid.

Oh yeah, the correct answer to the test is:
It depends on YOUR intent.
CABBY

China’s Olympics Opening!

Whew! Were you blown away?

I could hardly contain my amazement.

As the maze of my foggy thinking was reeling with this spectacular show, I was thinking that there is no way, that is NO WAY that the technology experts, architects or ‘entertainment in America’ experts could have TODAY presented such an advanced and full out WOW! show.

Thank you China for a wonderful in home entertainment evening.

This may not be a cab ride, but the show last night for sure was a trip.
No fare for this.
CABBY

This fare I picked up at the center of the block on a short street just above the zoo mid summer.

A family of four had folding chairs, blankets, a hamper, ice chest and ‘stuff’ that nearly filled the trunk of the cab.

There were three other cabs at the same time picking up three other groups that were to meet at the Zoo.

A picnic

In the band shell, not greatly known musicians are creating sounds of harmony, a lyric and a beat that, even if it is familiar is pretty much hard to follow hear and understand - a result of the over riding sounds of people enjoying people.

The children dance free and innocent during the music - and after.

Very small boys are in collared casual shirts, wearing leather looking vinyl sandals, bulky long shorts that are built as though for diapers, but poorly matched to the anatomy they are paired with. They look like the dressed the same dads. Only grandpa is differently clad - he has on black socks and white Velcro shoes.

Little girls are in ‘pretty’ hand-me-down or second hand store long princess dresses. Their jellies, or similar, are from the same sources or from an older sister. The ‘real pearl’ necklace on her neck is continually pulled at by the wearer - the elastic stretches freely with each jerk. The older sister is ‘bored’ and is sure everyone is staring at every move she makes, yet she is the least interesting of the gathering to observe. It is painful to watch her level of awkward self consciousness. Is puberty fun? For whom?

Both the little boys and the little girls enjoy tossing the drying fallen leaves skyward and celebrate with laughs and shrieks, joining them in falling, twirling to earth again and again. Those same leaves become worse-for-wear caused by the clutching grasps and swift brushing against the ill fitting picnic costumes.

The young moms wear chic colored short summer sleeved tops with stylish cropped pants. Middle aged (45+) women are wearing dark striped, dingy colored hemp skirts under worn appearing limp plaid print shirts that are cinched with faux Conchos threaded on a wide dark brown drapery cord looking belt. They hold hands with their similarly dressed partner. Is that a ribbon in her fraying graying braid? Grandma wears slacks, a sensible long sleeved (cuffs rolled back) pressed cotton top and has a sweater on the back of her chair. She has on her sparkling white training shoes, new stylish heavy framed glasses, and her make up is perfect.

All the adults that gather for the sheer pleasure of sharing each other in a wide open gathering have lost that palpable innocence they observe in the little ones. While here each can richly sense and vividly remember what they have lost. And wonder -where? When? Why? How? – That it got lost. They each can, however, remember when they thought they could fly by flapping their arms.

But, adults are polite and behave as expected. There are no physical boundaries, no territory or State or National border lines here. Folding outdoor chairs and blankets are spread on itchy grass, a sort of turf possession. Unknown other people (strangers) are close about but ignored as though they are not also singing maybe out of tune out loud and for sure quietly to themselves. Adults could sing aloud as if they were still children - if they just would! Aren’t manners just plain in the way some of the time? I love it when the musicians ask every one to join in: “Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea….” “This land is your land; this land is my land….” (You should here, provide your own tune and lyric.)

Each family brings enough food it seems for at least six thousand even though there will be at maximum a total of 7 adults with 9 kids. Potato salad and sandwiches of ham, turkey, cheese, tomato, lettuce on a croissant roll are the main course with three types of grapes and two types of chips. Four kinds of cookies are to follow and accompany seconds around. There are flower decorated paper plates, sturdy plastic forks and large paper napkins. Also they have iced flavored drinks and water. This is a feast by any description.

A near by FOP couple eat their Caesar salad, Frito pie and a bottle of wine for two served in glass wine glasses that match the plates and utensils with subdued colored cloth napkins. With chocolate brownies (adult brownies?) to finish, they sit in ample, sturdy Costco Big Butt chairs. There is a large soft sided cooler collapsing at their feet. Half way through the concert, they stroll off and later return sharing a bag of pop corn and ‘dippin dots’ each with a glowing wrist band. Ex-hippies with the ’Munchies’?

The zoos ancient cottonwood trees are trimmed up so high that they resemble a failing thin jungle canopy. These cottonwoods if not trimmed would be the ordinary tall, full, all limbs to the top, trees. Wonder why they are trimmed up that high? Oh well, the stars show through and the distant dark clouds are more visible this way. There are new 20’ trees planted this season around the grassy knoll and shallow hollows surrounding the face of the band shell. Will these newest trees cause some future generation similar curiosity? (Maybe the trees are trimmed like that so they won’t spook the horses with cracking falling limbs. Another story.)

A breeze rises as the sun settles beyond a perfect perch for sunrise watching (also another story,) - the ancient volcanoes - which overlook the city. There have been sweltering nights and muggy days for weeks now, so the cool flit of air across the arms is a real treat. The cottonwood leaves are sighing and rattling in the breeze way up there. With no lightning to be seen and only far off thunder faintly heard, it is a promise of a great evening.

This is the last zoo concert of the season.

Why do we wait for a concert in the park to have a picnic?

I really like to hear the harsh throaty hungry lions roar at sunset. I do like that sound, but that isn’t the reason.

Why don’t we invite others and just go to a park and laugh and enjoy each other?

Lets!

Life ambles past at a picnic. The sound that it makes seems more acceptable, and not near as loud as at other places of our day. Have you ever heard the sound a deadline makes as it rushes past?

If you read this far, the fare is paid. Yes, the meter runs when the cab is hired and stopped for a picnic. (Seems wrong).

CABBY

Sunrise over Volcanoes

Sunrise over volcanoes

Four friends are the fares for this cab ride.

We are five friends, at Dark early in the morning. We traipse out to a view unavailable where many of us live out our daily life experience.

Rain clouds from the night before are broken into scattered pieces this morning. We anticipate they will glow brightly as if on fire.

We stop for sweet rolls, everyone with their 'cupa' to hold onto.

Atop the high desert mesa (5700’ elevation) we arrive at our perch like birds awakening in the dawn. The sky lightens and has begun to glow. Camp and folding outdoor chairs are spread out close but not perfectly placed, so each arranges themselves and their chair for the ‘show.’

This is only 35 minutes from where we started. In the desert beyond the west edge of Albuquerque, above the edge of the mesa, we wait. There is a little early moaning and mumbling, all sharing the dawn.

We are overlooking the tops of ancient volcanoes and petro glyphs and have, across the Rio Grande River Valley, a view of the Sandia Mountains on the east edge of the city.

A spiritual event for some. A missed experience for some. A crisis for one causing an interruption for another. All experiences sound different and that is of interest in itself.

We all 5 share a bond of knowing each other extremely well. We in the past, via an intense shared life altering experience, had been unable to hide our real selves from each other. This few days is a chance to possibly reconnect as just a few years before. Or not.

We can see the horizon full around the four points of the compass. This is the desert. It is flat. We can see lots of developing sky color now. One of creations own displays from a place strikingly and beautifully unique if we only open our internal eyes, give up our expectations and not prejudge. The beauty of the stark terrain and the inhospitable dessert at sunrise are refreshing to me. I learn later this beauty is not appreciated by all the others.

Some want to talk, some to whisper and some just be. Differing combinations of this experience are rolling through us and are palpable when the sun is up.

A sunrise with friends, as almost anything done together with people who see each other only once a year, can be filled with wonder. At the same time it can be fraught with disappointment. Another possibility is ambivalence. It was.

The pale, and at the same time rich colors of the rising light are cast over a flat grayish dun desert. The rising dark chocolate colored tips of ancient volcanoes outlined in front of the farthest-in-the-distance fog laced blue and purple back-lighted silhouette of the mountains was one of those sights to be remembered.

Four of us later topped this same mountain taking a tram ride to be able to look back where we were observing this oft forgotten daily ritual that is as old and as wondrous as the earth and sun.

How can people let this spectacle occur and not be moved?

Sunrise is different for each of us. For some it is a reminder. For some it is an event. For some it is _______. I chose to see it as often as I am allowed and am always stunned.

If you are still reading, you know I have gone on far too long. It is a good thing the fare is paid, it would have been a big one.
CABBY

Then - Possibly now

Harry Truman gets in the cab:

If someone else can do it, so can I. Accomplishment
Honesty was the best principle. Easier to remember also.
Anything worthwhile required effort. Laziness
If at first you don’t succeed, try try again. Perseverance
“You be good.” Be proud of yourself
Right was right and wrong was wrong. Ethics
Honor your father and mother. Respect and appreciation
A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches. Thought before action
Be of good cheer. Be strong
You are the salt of the earth. Personal uniqueness
Say what you mean, mean what you say. Think!
Keep your word. Integrity
Never get too big for your britches. Know your place
Never forget a friend. Loyalty
Loyalty, love of home and unquestioning patriotism. Ethical
Be respectful of elders. Respect experience
“I’m fine, and you?” the only response to a greeting Private and strong

Here’s one that until this morning, I didn’t know the source:
“The people’s good is the highest law.” Cicero Generous, others first.

These are what was, as a boy growing up in the Great California Sacramento Valley in the late 1940’s, ‘50’s and early ‘60’s. Can you find much of this today.
Without a thought?

I see a whole other defined life where I am now in my life. I do not have it in me to define it.

I can recall my grandfather, Louis Troyer Meisner, ‘Gramps,’ saying in such amazing sincerity, “I was born 50 years too late.”

I can remember my mom saying at the August of her life, “I was born 50 years too late.”

I am nearly there, Mom, Gramps. I am weary and downtrodden. I have experienced recently a coming down. It is really sobering and comforting to, at this age, be able to recognize it as sage and observant, not as a slippery hill that just has no footing.

I look at the clouds this summer with a renewing reverence for power and significance of living, communicating, commiting and caring. You see, I am loving powerful free.

I was told once that my Indian name would have been “Cloud Watcher.” I am that.
The power and inspiration I gain daily when I see what a complicated thing like the daily clouds can feel, seem and offer to my spirit and soul. If clouds can lift me, I wonder if that is why I am the way I am?

Why do I read what I read? Why I am so anxious to awake and greet the morning light? Is it this same locked and loaded being that causes me to reflect about the wonder of still being alive and seeing the shadow I cast? Is any of this the same for anyone else?

Do you get up in the morning and say in your head, or out loud, or just think: “Fucking A, Dale (your name) lives today.

Do you arise before the sun so you can cherish that first light? Do you have a sense of the majesty of living and being and doing, when you first arise? Do you like being up when the birds first greet each other (and you)? Do you like smelling the grass before the heat of the day causes a ‘wilt’? Do you partake of a cupa and sit to ‘see’ and ‘be’?

Do you search for the first visible cloud to affirm the arising sun? Do you sit and read for two hours and celebrate each interruption by the birds, the newspaper slapping the driveway, the sighing of the trees, the smell of your cupa, the event of your disappearing into the present of your book, the magic of early morning fresh air, the rested feeling of relaxation from sleep, the amazing experience in all of the senses freshly alive, refreshed and not distracted?

Do you like hearing others begin to stir in the morning? Do you like the alone? Do you have an expectation that is fulfilled by all of this?

If I couldn’t do some of this, preferably all of it, each day, I would like to have my end occur as a part of that shortage.

The purpose for this note isn’t clear to me, nor is the content something I expected when I started playing a particular song of such power in my life. I just knew that if I heard this song over and over while writing, I would no longer be sage and observant; I would be in the present. Damn life is good.

Have you ever flown with your arms spread wide and had your spirit lift you to laughter that rings the room? If not, why? It is possible, ask me about it…

David, you are amazing.

Song; "Go The Distance" Michael Bolton

If you’ve read this far, the fare is paid
CABBY

Stepped off the edge

Stepped off the edge.

I want to talk about what this blog list is actually all about.

1. Putting out this blog to write about what interests me...

2. To be your friend and my biggest critic.

Step off the edge ought to be the first way one would describe the thing called:

"What I do."

If excitement for "what I do" could be weighed against the necessity to do something (work), the scale of what you accept should tip to the excitement and getting the "What I do" (work) to be the same thing.

I short cut to a conclusion:
If you can say that you get to step off the edge everyday by going to, being at and doing your work each day, you are doing what you are supposed to do to fulfill your unique place in life. If not - you're not.

You might ask: "So how come I am happy and successful if I am not stepping off the edge daily?"
Because you are 'settling.' You have accepted that it is acceptable to do less than you are able to do. If your excitement and what you do are in alignment, your level of success and happiness would be richer and stronger.

You are entitled to be contributing at the step off the edge level of lifes' richness.
If you are not aware of what you consider your stepping off the edge, I can tell you how to get that information.

To find out how to learn what feels like stepping off the edge for you, e mail me @ lets-take-a-ride@hotmail.com

If you've read this far, the fare is paid.
CABBY

Grand children

Are they?
Of course. We got together on Wed last week.

Spent Thurs driving from their house to mine (5 hours) and hanging out at home afterward. I drive it alone and with Granny with one stop for food and to stretch. With them, we stopped three times.

Next morning, up at 10 for them.

Off to the Atomic Museum, which they seemed to enjoy, and already had mentioned an interest in seeing. They knew about the first test in the desert of the missile range, and that the bomb had been used twice in WWII. They seemed unimpressed that I'd seen a blast or two myself as I was raised near the Nevada Testing Grounds. Well, close enough to see the cloud and the flash etc.

They'd seen the films about it on the PBS channel. The film "Manhattan Project" was shown at our request while we were there. They remembered seeing that on TV.

Then we went to the Dinosaur Museum, and watched two movies: "Dinosaurs Alive" and "The Living Sea" at the IMAX venue. They were surprised (not really) that I wasn't alive when the dinosaurs were here in NM.

We spent another hour and a half going through the Natural History and Science Museum, at their request. I was ready to go rest. But, I hung in there.

Home, food and picked up 'hoodies' and off to the races.

We went out to Hollywood Race Track for the sprint car races. They had never been to car races, so it was an iffy proposal.

On the way, we stopped for one of NM's best burgers at the Casino.

We were stuffed!

They were not too sure about the races when I proposed it, however after we got there, they were into it.

Grandson, age 14, was the first to pick a car to win the race, followed immediately by Granny, and then granddaughter stepped in. I waited until they'd all picked then I selected what seemed like a sure fire winner. Wrong.
One of them won.
All in all, we had a great outing, and they seemed to like the races as an event.
However, the next day off to the movies with Granny, and then to a swimming party for the final evening.
I will do it again. I really get something I cannot identify from being around the two of them. They are so naive, so willing to accept, so aware of things I didn't even know existed at their ages.

Must be tough being 14 and 12.

Love them both. They are so like their parents. It must hurt for their parents to see them grow into the people they will be.
Look at your parents, that is who you will become. Scary?

Fare is paid.
CABBY

Father's Day

Father's Day is a celebration inaugurated in the early twentieth century to complement Mother's Day in celebrating fatherhood and male parenting, and to honor and commemorate fathers and forefathers. Father's Day is celebrated on a variety of dates worldwide and typically involves gift-giving, and special dinners to fathers and family-oriented activities. In 2008, it will be celebrated on June 15 in most countries.

Thank you www.wikipedia.com.

If there were a father that we could all look at and know we were observing a ‘how to do it’ example, whom would you chose?
My instinct is to be protective and say “My dad.”

However, my father image is principally my maternal grandfather, Louis Troyer Meisner.
He is the one person who took the care and interest to tell me how to behave so that others were respected and considered in what ever action I was involved.
‘Gramps’ was the one who said over and over and over, “ If someone else can do it, so can I.”
My roll as a father left a lot to be done as I look back. I would change how I did parts of it. The changes are not possible, however I still think about them.
Some of my day today will be spent remembering the men who were influential in my shaping as a young boy.
I will list some of them in honor of how they influenced me.
Lou Meisner, “Gramps”; Hank Harris, Dad; Nick, brother;
Bob Chappell, cousin; Jack Chappell, cousin; Mr. Culbertson, Teacher; Mr. Hagan, Teacher; Dick Turner, “Turney” Navy shipmate.
Many more, I will recall through the day.
So to you who are a father, and for those who are roll models and a positive influence in the life of a young boy, I say:
Happy Father’s Day
A special acknowledgment to a few men I know are great fathers:
Will Harris, Mike Burley, Dick Turner (I do remember that Dick died this last Spring), David White, Jim Peasley, George Weir, John Kirkpatrick, Don Clocksin, Gary Bacon, Jeff Harden, Ray Smith, John Boyt and "Ketch" Ketchum.
Oh yeah, don’t forget the gift giving…
If you read this far, the fare is paid.
CABBY

Tim Russert

Wisdom of Our Fathers: Lessons and Letters from Daughters and Sons by Tim Russert

Here was a man who put his mouth where his heart was.
If you haven't read this book, you are missing one of the finest Father's Day presents you could share with your son, father, grandfather, brother-in-law, father-in-law, business partner or which ever male is a part of your life.

Tim Russert loved baseball.
With this book he hit a home run.

Buy it, check it out at the library, borrow it,.
Just be sure to read it.
A great man died today. He is well known for his unrelenting search for truth and will be strongly appreciated in his obituaries around the journalists circuit.

I am so glad I read this book.

Sad to see him come to his end.

If you've read this far, his fare is paid. Read the book!
CABBY

Game Time

He gets in the cab.
"Park strip at L Street please, and hurry."

"Whats your hurry to go to the park?" I ask.

"I have a rugby game and my car wouldn't start, so I'm nearly late for my game time."

We race toward the park. I do not recall the rest of the ride, although the expression: "and hurry" is all too familiar to every cab driver.

Today, 'game time' means the length of time one spends playing the game of choice on their computer.

How does 'and hurry' relate?

We have all either been late or nearly late and had to hurry as a result of the thought 'just one more game.' Right?

So, having had surgery on the right side of my body, (I am right handed), I have found a special benefit of surgery that has little to do with a quick, clean, complete recovery.

The game time has been reduced by a percentage that would amaze anyone.
I decided that I would learn to drive my mouse with my left hand.

HAH! Sounds easy. Isn't.

So today, 8 weeks post surgery, I play about 1/10th as much Spider Solitaire, and or Mahjong, or the free Yahoo game offered.

Well now, do you think that changes my life?

It does. It has meant more reading, less eye strain, earlier bedtimes, getting more rest, and more conversations, cleaner garage area, and I am actually getting better at lots of left handed things.

Try it, you also may get part of your life back.

Rugby was a very small sport in Anchorage in the '70's. I wonder about the size in the 21st Century?

I am not sure why this came up, however I believe there are no mistakes. Maybe one of you will enlighten me about a reason.

If you've read this far, the fare is paid.
CABBY

Final ride...

Did you ever think you would live forever?
Did you ever consider that maybe, just maybe you might live to be the oldest on earth?

Well, I can recall thinking both of those things. Seems like a million years ago.
Does that mean in some twisted way that the end is not clear when young and VERY clear when older?

I heard a quote of Dick Cavett that said basically that those of us who get old are lucky, and should just keep in mind that the end is just the end and way too close.

I heard a lady on PBS on the show Second Life say effectively that those who spend their time thinking and talking about death and dying ought to rethink their priorities on how to spend their minutes. Makes sense to me.

She also said that she thought that those who think and talk of death just are afraid to die. I say 'nuts' to that.

I get comfort from talking and thinking about death.

I found this last week that I was thinking of my very close and important friend David's wife Nancy.

See, Nancy's brother's wife has terminal cancer and is in the final days of her life it appears. With a miracle she will survive. Without, all who know her will be left with her memory.

I spent the weekend frequently thinking of David and Nancy. I was so aware of who they are and how powerful and wondrous they are for me. I had no idea what they were up to.

I finally talked to David yesterday, to learn that they had a chance to spend individual alone and couple time with this amazing woman this last weekend.

Now I know David would have had trouble being there, let alone spending hugging time with her prior to 2004.

Today I can tell you that the weekend for David and Nancy although painful and sorrowful was a weekend spent with a person they will never let go of. They will keep her life spirit or whatever you would call it going as they recall those treasured moments with her this past weekend.

To Nancy I say, 'I love who you are for me as a friend, I can only imagine who you are to your sister-in-law - and that imaging is the best.'

My heart is full of sorrow and pain and I remind myself that the pain is part of the process of life.
That is of no comfort.

If you read this far, the fare is paid.
CABBY

Wild Bill... no not that one.

Not really a cab ride as much as a cab dialog.
Read recently:
Folklore of New Mexico
Folklore of the West
Boom (Brokaw)
Reading:
Hogs in the Shadows (Afong)
Independents Day (Dobbs)
A Reporters life (Jennings)
We are all journalists now (Gant)

The point here is that the 'press' is no longer the sole major source of an informed public. (What the 'press' really is today is the discussion of another cab ride).

As a result of that, (think of the outing of the Lewinski caper, and the Appple Computer lawsuit against Josh Wolf) realize that the people are not served by the 'press' today as they were in Jeffersonian days. Then the people could only find out the subjects of public discussion through the 'press' and not through other reliable connections.

So, as William Shakespeare said; "what's past is prologue" "The Tempest" Act II Scene I.
I used to read the paper and watch TV news for the current events and issues of today. Not now, too slow. The paper is the local stories and the weather for today. The TV news doesn't get turned on here, as they are 'selling' not reporting.

So is the need for the first amendment and it's 'shield laws' an archaic thought?
Should it provide immunity that bloggers like yours truly might use for protection from the courts and ever growing hoard of attorneys?

Is this an issue of some importance, or just some wild paranoid tangent of some group of attorneys?

Well folks, it will become a huge issue soon. We are approaching the 'season of rumor and lies' (presidential campaigning). If you do not think this election will be won and lost over the internet, you are hiding under a different rock than I. It will become the fortune of at least one attorney to bring a case against a blogger. Just hide and watch.

Oh yeah, I am amazed at how the few times politics were discussed in the cab, was when politicos were in the cab. The fares generally were more into the moment, living in the present.
Sorry for the typos and run ons and dangling chads, it is the birthday of my bride, and we are off to get her the i phone she 'just can't get along without.'
If you have read this far, the fare is paid.
CABBY

Consider this...

First spot on the cab stand at the Anchorage International Airport, early June, 1975.

The fare is a mid twentyish male. Short hair, clean shaven, lean, slow talker, alert bright eyes, painful creased brow, hiking boots, long sleeve shirt, practical belt, Levis, Navy watch cap. Carrying an efficient back pack not over loaded, with a no nonsense appearance. This guy looks serious and ready for reality, not just a summer spent trekking around Alaska.

He asks for the YMCA. There isn't a residential Y here, so I ask what he is looking for.

He says: "A job."
A job where people will let him just observe life. A job where he doesn't have to dress and act a certain way and talk to people that are afraid to be alone.

It sounds like a cab driver job to me.
I am looking for a new driver for my second cab, Cab 115 for the night shift for Sun - Thurs.

I ask him about his driving experiences. His drug record. His ultimate Alaska destination. His ability to pay rents, and his criminal record. Great answers.
His name is Mike Cha____ .
He asks what it pays. I offer to buy him lunch and discuss his potential and fit for the job. He agrees. We go to Gwennie's Restaurant on Spenard Road, just up from the airport.

I hire him after he shows great manners and politeness to the staff there.
I take him to get an Alaska State and a city cab drivers license. I take him to the Ronald Arms on Arctic Road to rent a room.

After spending this day riding and watching in the cab with me, he agrees to go to work in three days, after he gets the lay of the land and settles in.

He comes with me for a night shift ride for one night. I complete the training and explaining the city layout, show him how to get the calls and the rides at the best places to pick up fares. He is an excellent and courteous driver. He 'gets' Anchorage and the cab business immediately.
Move forward approximately two years.

Mike owns two cabs, goes to University of Alaska, Anchorage. He buys a house, brings his mom and sister to Anchorage to live with him. Mom is infirm. Sister is about 12. He is the pillar of strength and sole support for his family.

Mike is a Viet Nam vet. Mike has been doused with urine in San Francisco, called 'baby killer' in Berkeley, has been beat-up in New York - just because he speaks up for his role as an American who answered the 'call.'

You see, Mike was drafted in 1968. He served a tour and a half. He was decorated, and released all in one day. He left Viet Nam on a Wednesday and was in San Francisco heading home to Ohio on Thursday night.

Mike was just one of many men to come to Alaska in the early '70's to leave behind those that didn't 'get it.' To remove themselves from the ones who were so sure that the GI's were the problem. To leave behind those privileged protesters who negotiated deferments and dodged the draft in many other ways that a street poor 18 or 19 year old male couldn't fathom.

Mike was one of those guys who believed that their country called and they answered just like their parents did for 'WW II.' Mike never thought to make sure his country didn't take the young men off to another war that was a mistake, or that didn't need to be fought.
Sound familiar?

Well, talk to nearly any veteran of the Viet Nam conflict (not even called a war) and most will say that they had no idea when the US would be able to leave Viet Nam. Remember over 55,000 men and women died as a result of the 'conflict.'
Ask those same vets about Iraq, and they will say this war is worse. In Viet Nam there was one enemy. In Iraq they will point out that there are at least three, and all want something different.
A solution?
If you read this far, the fare has been paid.
CABBY

So when I am alone, the flag is up and the dispatch radio is chattering in the background as 'noise' until I hear:
"Adam 1; 5 4 / Discover Park, at the statue."
I reply:
" 5 4 / Discover Park, at the statue
"
I leave the Captain Cook Hotel Cab Stand to drive the 7 or 8 blocks. I park, get out walk to the statue. I see you sitting there with your cigar and guide book, enjoying the 11PM sunset view across Cook Inlet West toward Mt Susitna.
I affirm that you had called a cab, you tell me to turn on the meter, lock the car and come sit.

I sit.

Silence. "So what's up you ask"?

I say, "The sense of loneliness at times is harsh."

I sit at a cabstand and wait. I clean the car, empty the ashtray and trash, wipe down the seats, catch my trip log up to date, read a little in the book I have, make my 'Honey Do" list for the time I will have to do that sort of thing, and then I wait.

I wait.

This is what it was like before cell phones. I wonder what it would be like now? We used to have to leave the car to make a telephone call, (Which meant leaving the radio unmanned.) When away from the car, I can't receive a dispatch call, so I stand to lose money by vacating the car. (known as going 'Blue')

Loneliness is a creeping thing. It is almost as if a previous fare left a snake in the back seat, and as soon as things quiet down, loneliness creeps out from under the seat.

Today, loneliness is a product of either forgetting your cell when you left, or not having enough bars to connect.

Loneliness is a factor of not making the effort to reach out when you can. I suppose loneliness is also a factor of not having the skill or desire to learn the skill of texting.

So what does this cab ride have to do with anything?

I am not sure, except to point out what seems obvious to me.

I am aware of a pervasive loneliness among people today. I see cars being driven as a second thought. I see people sitting together each on a cell phone talking to someone else. I see people using their laptops and "e gear" at the table, at the park, at work on break, at the airport waiting area.

Isn't it a lonely picture this draws in your mind?

Of course the argument could be that they were so engaged that they had a full life and were not drifting all alone.

If you have ridden this far, the fare is paid.
CABBY

Decoration Day

Oh my God. I may be the only one who recalls that the first name of the current U S Holiday, Memorial Day was actually Decoration Day.

Seems there was a desire to remember and honor those who died in the Civil War.
After the WW I conflagration, the day was changed to honor all war dead.

I am sure I had a memorable Decoration / Memorial Day prior to the one of May 30, 1955, I just don't remember it.
I was a 12 year old living on a farm in Willows, CA listening to the Indianapolis Memorial Day Race when my life was forever changed.

I was a fan of the 'Mad Russian" Bill Vukovich, and was fully devoted to the idea that he was the best car racer ever. If I had a sports hero back then, "Vuky" was it.

I was out in the barn doing chores and listening when the AM radio announcer said that it looked like "Vuky" had been involved in a serious race car wreck. I stopped what ever I was doing and waited in agony for a couple of one minute life times.

Eventually the announcer relayed the 'news' that the world's greatest driver had died.

I was stunned. I was a mess for quite a few days, and just couldn't believe it. He was my hero. He was larger than life. He represented everything important to me.

I didn't even know I was a race car fan.

Even today, 53 years later, I am stunned on Memorial Day (Decoration Day) when I awake to know that this was once the saddest day of this little boys life.

I became a man in some fashion that day. It was a hell of an awakening. I am sure it has made lots of seemingly senseless things that happened later on in my life seem more endurable. I have had some pretty wicked blows. I have seen some very ugly things. I have always remembered Bill Vukovich.

I am happy I do. It keeps me sane.

Bill Vukovich didn't know I existed. He definitely influenced me.

You never know what influence you have...

If you've read this far, the fare is paid.
Enjoy in some fashion the freedom and the Holiday we have been given by those who cared enough to go in the way of tyranny, deceit and all kinds of things threatening the wonderful experience of American Freedom.
CABBY

Readers

I read about three books a week.

I just finished: "Life with Pi" Martel and "Wisdom of Our Fathers" Russert

"Life... " is truly a fun light quick read. Plan on a cloudy Sunday read. I would read it all at once and plan for that if I could do it differently. Really a head jerker in a good way. It talks of values without judgment and it seemingly can't offend.

"Wisdom " is enough to make a grown man cry. I am a grown man, I cried repeatedly in a happy, forgotten way. I feel motivated, smarter, and assured that I have done all I was capable of at the time after reading this one. It too has a message. I would recommend that families arrange to have enough copies (use a Library) for the whole family to read it at the same time. I know now, as I didn't before, my father.

So, in the cab in Anchorage:
I once had a reader. He was accompanied by one of the most curious co-riders I ever had the pleasure to carry. Between them there resided a friction that was alive.
They saw everything I could show them in about 2 hours of riding about the haunts and sights of the Anchorage bowl area. She would jump out at each stop, take pictures and he would look up, glance around and go back to his book.

She was animated and wanted to see it all. He was quiet and appeared uninterested on the outside.

They pushed the time to be at the airport to continue on their way to the East Coast somewhere. In those days, airlines were not always flying non-stop from the 'Orient" to the East Coast. So occasionally I would take people on a two to four hour tour of Anchorage, while they had a lay over. This was one of those fares.

That Christmas, I received a card through the Cab Co.address from him. He remarked how she had been so alive that day and that he would always cherish that day.

Enclosed was her funeral tarejeta. I just couldn't get over how he even knew how she perceived the day, as he appeared so detached from her excitement.

Of course, I had no idea what a difference a cab ride could make for someone. I have so often not responded to things like this. I wish I had acknowledged his card.

I can only say:
"If you think you would like to respond to people in a caring way, but are unsure of yourself about doing it - just do it."

What do you have to lose?

If you've read this far, the fare for this trip is paid. CABBY

Maintenance

The idea of this blog is this: You have hailed a taxicab - this is the resulting cab ride. Cabby is the driver, you are the “Fare.” Cabby will decide where we are “going.”

The ride today is to the scheduled maintenance shop.

I used a Goodyear Tire Company retail store at 36^th and Old Seward Highway for routine and preventative maintenance every other Tuesday at 10 AM by scheduled appointment.

In the taxicab business in Anchorage, Alaska (think COLD winter for 7 months) there were two kinds of cab owners. One kind did regular and preventative and scheduled maintenance and the other kind did ‘repairs.’

I had a fleet of ‘regularly scheduled maintenance’ cabs. As a result, my cabs broke down only when a tire gave out and once when an Anchorage Transit Bus ran a stop sign and caused a wreck. (I was highly compensated for down time and repairs.)

This will be the first of few regularly scheduled maintenance rides. I will do the future routine and preventative maintenance when the cab is parked when at all possible.

These postings are on any variety of topics of my selection. I may or may not want to take the cab where a fare's comments want to steer, as the blog in this case is being “driven” by “Cabby.” You can have your own cab for a day (get your own blog!) if you want to pay me the taxicab daily lease fees for one of my other cabs.

I was “Cabby” in taxicab number 54 of the taxicabs in Anchorage, and have kept this moniker as a proud badge. I will always be in charge of this cab and its safety and its passengers. I never had an injury to any of my fares, and will be careful not to injure you while on any of these cab rides. I just want to clarify that I mean physically injured, I am not sure about other injuries real or imagined.

I also had cabs numbered 51, 113, 115, or 121 and a few others I have forgotten. I always had a special place in my head for car 54 however as it was the first and co-incidentally my last taxicab. They even had a series on TV called; "Car 54, Where Are You?" Any one remember that?

I have received blog suggestions that I today am starting to respond to, so bear with me this time.

I did away with the classy looking White on Black background and increased the font size.

I am going to make more Carriage Returns and insert a few more blank lines and indentations.

I changed the comment queue and there is a second place to comment.

I am so happy to be back to posting. I regard this as fun and get some sort of pleasure when I ‘turn on the meter’ (which is how a taxicab makes money.)

The second place to ‘comment’ is to lets-take-a-ride@hotmail.com. I am the owner of that e mail address and only I will read what is posted to that address.

Since you rode this far with me today, the Goodyear store's free popcorn and coffee are on me. The womens ice hockey game we watched outdoors on the rink behind the tire store was won by my daughter Mandee with a shootout goal. Her Pueblo team beat the Denver Spitfires, the Park City Predators and the Fort Collins Flames to win the Mothers Day Tournament.

Thank you.

CABBY

Malpai Borderlands Group April 20, 2008

Sunday evening you get in the Cab at the ranch house of the Malpai Ranch 18 miles East of Douglas, Arizona. This is a time of the week when the most of the American population has had BBQ, been to a race, a park, the beach, a movie, etc... At the Malpai it was just another day, the Sabbath, but just another work day.
What is going on at the Malpai, as on most (not enough) other Ranches in the West is feeding all of the livestock and checking them for health issues, checking the water tanks, securing the pasture gates, resetting mouse and rat traps, turning on or off windmills etc. You watch the sun fall to the horizon faster than the time available to finish the chores for the day. You do steal a few minutes to enjoy the rich warm western beauty of this Arizona sunset. Arizona sunsets are so unlike any anywhere else, that a magazine, Arizona Highways features them in every issue.
All of these late day activities are daily necessary chores just to maintain the status of viable 'Ranching'. Since all the chores don't get completed by sundown, a rancher (Cowboy and/or Cowgirl) works by lights either hand held or high on a pole where the light is so diffuse by the time it reaches the ground that the crawling, flying, walking nightlife are only sensed, not seen. Imagine walking in the dark along a dirt drive from out buildings to the ranch house. You know that in the morning this same dirt might have javelina, coyote, rabbit, badger, skunk, LION, deer, rat, mouse, bird and/or sidewinder tracks on it. These tracks will be atop your cowboy boot tracks from the walk to the house after the chores were completed.
As you get to the house, you exhale in exhaustion. You wash up and begin the winding down of the days events with the spouse and family, the 'hands' and household activities. There is some discussion of what has to be done tomorrow and when. You go sit on the patio/deck with your ration of beer. A Coronita, (7 oz. Corona) is about it, as you still have a full evening of planning and working out how to get everything done.
The government reports, taxes, bills and correspondence. (it seems these Ranchers seem to have an inordinate amount of mail.)
You recognize the night sounds and enjoy the clean warm fresh air and rustling in the yard. You know the rustling and animal sounds are not your 'pets' as they are either inside or locked down at the 'barns'. You know the sounds of the bats, rabbits, javelina, and of course you can imagine the hawks that have nested in the top of that biggest tree in the yard. Just about the time you go in for dinner, the 32 hounds in the kennels down at the barns 'go off.' There must be coyotes at the barns already.
Dinner is blessed. The conversation is lively and animated with joy and love. Fresh tamales, beans, green salad made at a salad bar. Huge choice of dressings, calabcitas, tortillas, soup of meat balls and flavors of Mexico. Desert is home made apple Crisp with vanilla ice cream.
The telephone rings, the 'hand' at the North ranch checks in. One of the heifers has it seems lost her calf, or else it is hiding. Tomorrow will tell. If she has indeed lost it, she will be bawling loud and clear. You see, if she has lost it and she is still producing milk, she will need to be milked or medicated to stop her making milk or... All else is fine up there.
Bed time is about 8:45 as we will all get up and go at it again at 3:45 AM to have a day at the Malpai.
Goodnight,
Oh yeah, I turned the meter off for the night.