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