It allows me to control my online identity. And, as the Helen, Sweetheart of the Internet comic strip for May 6th shows, that could soon be very, very important…
Mind you, considering the dutifully-transcribed odd things that often happen around me, I’ll probably get this kind of reaction anyway.
This happened a little while back — shortly after I’d graduated from Queen’s, which puts it sometime in 1995, but it’s memorable advice from a cabbie.
“Life,” he said, “is like cab driving. There are four rules.”
“One: Be fast.”
“Two: Always look for opportunity.”
“Three: Use your horn.”
“Four: Make them afraid.“
…was driving Diamond Taxi number 3091 yesterday at 10:45 a.m.. You get three guesses as to who his unfortunate passenger was.
I was originally going to bike to the spiffy-cool company where I’d interviewed before, but the sky was threatening to rain all over me. I decided to play it smart — or so I thought — and take a cab.
Me: Mowat Street, please. Just off King and a block east of Dufferin.
Cabbie: Uh, where?
Me: Mowat Street. Near King and Dufferin.
Cabbie: Where?
Me: Um, take me to the corner of King and Dufferin.
Cabbie: [looking at me as if I’ve asked for a ride to Mars] King?
Me: Yes. King Street. And Dufferin.
Cabbie: Oh, I’ve heard of that.
If you don’t live in Accordion City, you might not know that this is not an obscure little corner. Both King and Dufferin are major streets in central part of town; these streets are significant enought to each have their own subway station. The fact that the cabbie did not have this fundamental knowledge worried me.
I decided to take a little more charge than what would normally be necessary.
Cabbie: You think I should go south?
Me: Yes, because it’s in that direction.
Cabbie: Uh, okay.
Me: Better still, take Queen Street and go west on that. There’s construction on King. They’re re-laying the streetcar tracks.
The cabbie turned westward on Queen Street. There was the usual amount of morning traffic, the kind you’d expect to see on a major downtown street at about 11 in the morning.
Cabbie: Son of bitch. Fucking hell. Look at this traffic, la!
Me: It’s not so bad. It’s just a red light and a streetcar in front of us.
Cabbie: I will overtake.
The cabbie lead-footed it, trying to get around the streetcar on the right side, but there just wasn’t enough room to accelerate past it. We ended up stuck behind a lane of parked cars.
Cabbie: Stinking shit! I will take better route, la!
Me: Just overtake it when you have more roo–
The cabbie took a right turn onto Augusta and started going north — precisely the opposite direction of where I wanted to go (my destination was south and east of where we were). We ended up at the corner of Dundas and Denison, where he decided to stop — at a green light.
He pulled out a cell phone and placed a call. It was mostly in Hindi, but in the middle of it, he craned his neck to see the street signs.
“something something Dundas and Denison, la, something something something King something something Dufferin something something fucking traffic something something.”
He was phoning someone for directions. Probably not the dispatcher, but a family member or friend.
He hung up and turned to me.
Cabbie: King is south of here.
Me: That’s what I said.
Cabbie: I will U-turn and go south, la!
He turned the cab around, and we headed south. As we approached Queen Street, I suggested we take it west to Dufferin.
Me: Take Queen. There’s construction on King.
Cabbie: But King is farther south, la!
Me: Take…Queen..oh, crap.
It was too late. He turned south on Portland and headed right down to King Street and straight into the construction zone, where traffic had slowed to a crawl.
Cabbie: What the shit?! Fucking hell shit goddamn! I hate this city! I fucking hate fucking driving a fucking cab!
(It’s true. When you immigrate to Canada, the first new words you learn are the swear words; it’s just that the subtleties of arranging them takes a little longer to get. I wanted to use some myself.)
Me: [trying to remain calm] Take…Queen..Street…now. Turn…around…and…take…it.
Cabbie: But you wanted King, la!
Me: Queen..is…parallel…to…King. Take…it…to…Dufferin…and…turn…south.
I got on my phone and told Ross, whom I was going to meet, that I was going to be a little late. “I’m uh, stuck in traffic.” I was sorely tempted to say Hey, Ross, I’d have been there by now, but I’m stuck with a cab driver who has less intelligence than most trout I have eaten.
After making sure that he followed no directions but my own, we finally arrived. The cabbie looked at the sign in front of the building.
Cabbie: What is this place?
Me: It’s an Internet company.
Cabbie: You are into computers, la?
Me: Yes. I’m a programmer.
Cabbie: I am a programmer too! Perhaps you can get me a job here?
Me: Not if I have anything to do with it.
And with that, I walked out of the cab without paying. I entered the building, leaving the cabbie swearing incoherently and honking.
English as a Second F*cking Language. I swear by this book!
On the discussion Web site Plastic, some evidence that atheists have their own annoying fundamentalists too:
A state historical landmark in Ventura, California recently came under threat from a group of self-proclaimed atheists and agnostics. Apparently this group of citizens have become incensed about a 90-year old cross that sits above the city in a public park. Similar situations have occured elsewhere in California.
The current cross was put in place 90 years ago when the previous cross had rotted. Local historians claim that the original cross had been put in place in the same location over 200 years ago (1782) by a Spanish Priest, Father Junipero Serra. The cross served as a guide to mariners to identify where the city and one of Father Serra’s missions were located.
The group’s claim is, of course, that the cross represents a violation of separation of church and state. Some may feel, however, that it is the duty of the state to maintain it, or any other significant landmark, even if the landmarks have religious implications to any group. City attorneys fear fighting the legal actions of the group will cost the city a million dollars and ultimately fail to save the cross based on similar decisions by the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals. Their solution may be to sell the portion of the park which holds the cross to a private organization to maintain.
I suspect that many of these pointless busybodies protested the Taliban’s destruction of the Buddha statues at Bamiyan (of course not, that’s different).
My own personal feeling is that while the government shouldn’t endorse any specific religion or go about erecting religious symbols, it should maintain sites of historical significance. I think a more reasonable way to view the cross is as a historical artifact that just happens to be a religious significance for some people.
Besides, if you really wanted to take down symbols of oppression, you’d dismantle all those statues of dead white male racist-sexist-homophobic-didn’t-sort-their-recycling-properly-oppressor-pig-dogs.
It would seem to be that way: MetaFilter reports that Salam Pax, the pseudonymous (Salam and Pax are respectively Arabic and Latin for “peace”) blogger from Baghdad with fans from both the Left and the Right (just like yours truly…I think) has new postings. As always, very interesting reading.
I didn’t know this until I stumbled across it: June is National Accordion Awareness Month. Established in 1989 to promote awareness of the squeezebox, this month is a celebration of the much-maligned instrument, which is enjoying a resurgence in popularity thanks to a wide array of artists ranging from the Dixie Chicks to Nirvana to They Might Be Giants to Yours Truly.
Some accordion facts:
You know, I still don’t know how to play Lady of Spain. Maybe I should learn.
In The Happiest Geek on Earth: It’s synchronicity — Paul Graham and Eric S. Raymond write on the relationship between the hacking and painting and writing.
