I recently met a retired science teacher from Cudahy and Caledonia. He used to set a few desks on fire the first couple days of school in order to get the attention of his MPS students.
Mostly now he’s into moths and butterflies. He raises them, if that’s how one says it. He’s got butterflies from Kenya, China and another country that starts with a C or K (Canada? Kenosha?). And, although he’s been to the Mexican wintering ground a couple times, he raises nothing as mundane as Monarchs either.
It’s hard not to talk about climate change and pesticides when you’re dealing in butterflies. He seemed to be a well rounded fellow.
He was on his way in to see the cardiologist that afternoon. He’d had a big cardio blow out two months ago and was recuperating nicely. Healthcare was on our agenda also. It’s a nice ride to Caledonia. We spent a few minutes and let the conversation flow on its own.
Last Friday I met my first bank president - and told him so. It’s fun to make people feel special. In his little neck of the woods the economy has been turning around - slowly - the last six months. Always glad to hear it from a guy in the saddle rather than a talking head.
He’d just taken on a local manufacturer that had gotten a contract to sell locally-made stuff to China. There’s probably a whole story in there somewhere.
We also talked about the trouble that we, the people, are having this political season when politicians toss out phrases like ‘small business’ without first defining the measurement. He thought that the way government defines small business is anything less that 500 employees or 250 million dollars in sales. With that definition he said that his particular small and local bank could not really handle a small business that big.
Yesterday, another first, a customer (let’s call her Mary - for reasons of national security) had just come from the ICU where her best friend’s mother, Joan, lay sedated on a ventilator. Mary grew up in the neighborhood with her friend and the mother. Old Joan is almost a second mom to Mary.
Mary was dressed in green fatigues and we were headed for the east side of the airport - the 128th Refueling Wing. She said I should just drop her at the gate. She’d walk in. She was carrying a heavy bag. I told her the story of having been saluted through that particular gate already and knew the drill.
“Well, alright then, you can drive me to my building.”
Besides being a mom Mary is a pilot. She’s been flying refueling tankers for the last twelve years. Why did we have to wait until the end of the ride to find that out?
And, I got saluted a second time. Yes, I know the young guard post guy was looking at her, Ma’am, but I leaned in and grinned. (Not really).
Also, yesterday I had a chance to talk shop with a couple professional drivers. One is a 36 year veteran taxicab driver. I don’t think I want his job. The other is a 4 year part time suburban pizza driver. Also, a little too crazy. Too much randomness in both of those gigs. I have hostages in my shuttle. They have to be nice. We have their car.
I have felt very lucky this last week. I got to watch the fall leaves fall from that great front window in my little bus.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Three more firsts
I recently met a former Milwaukee County Executive, a funeral director and a young woman from Sofia, Bulgaria.
See if you can match the following factoids to the folks listed above.
A recipe for chilled yogurt soup - given in her native language.
The Plaza Hotel has a lovely little cafe.
The human body burns for 3 hours at 1600 degrees. The bones still need grinding after that.
The bones do not go into the soup and they are not served at the cafe.
I do wish I had more time to process the notes. I meet so many lovely people.
See if you can match the following factoids to the folks listed above.
A recipe for chilled yogurt soup - given in her native language.
The Plaza Hotel has a lovely little cafe.
The human body burns for 3 hours at 1600 degrees. The bones still need grinding after that.
The bones do not go into the soup and they are not served at the cafe.
I do wish I had more time to process the notes. I meet so many lovely people.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Rolfing Aikido Poet
According to her Linkedin profile she’s in radiology at a local hospital. She has a wide interest and knowledge in complementary healing modalities; especially Rolfing. She’s a long time student of aikido and is a budding poet.
Funny what you can talk about while driving to the lakefront. Usually just enough to wish the trip were longer.
I was surprised that her car was ready before my shift was over. She was on the pick-up board for later.
JP, however, was not surprised. She brought one of her own poems to read to me.
Another first.
Funny what you can talk about while driving to the lakefront. Usually just enough to wish the trip were longer.
I was surprised that her car was ready before my shift was over. She was on the pick-up board for later.
JP, however, was not surprised. She brought one of her own poems to read to me.
Another first.
Winter Hardy Hibiscus
On my way into my McDonald’s there was a landscaping gal pulling up dead plants from the bed.
“Hey, Weed Lady,” I hollered. “You must know the name of those big flowering plants there.”
“They’re called Winter Hardy Hibiscus. You should see the ones on the north side of the parking lot at the Ryan Road store. Beautiful.” she said.
Since she had gloves on I showed her a thank you card and laid it on her basket near her phone.
“Keep up the good work, Weed Lady.” I said.
“You don’t know what that means. Thank you. My mom’s in the hospital. Her aorta’s leaking into her lungs. We don’t know what we’re going to do and it has been a very stressful couple of weeks.”
Many of us simply need someone to see us. Just for a moment.
“Hey, Weed Lady,” I hollered. “You must know the name of those big flowering plants there.”
“They’re called Winter Hardy Hibiscus. You should see the ones on the north side of the parking lot at the Ryan Road store. Beautiful.” she said.
Since she had gloves on I showed her a thank you card and laid it on her basket near her phone.
“Keep up the good work, Weed Lady.” I said.
“You don’t know what that means. Thank you. My mom’s in the hospital. Her aorta’s leaking into her lungs. We don’t know what we’re going to do and it has been a very stressful couple of weeks.”
Many of us simply need someone to see us. Just for a moment.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
City Folk Retire
An 18 year veteran of MPS Language Arts and Math decides to cash into the Keweenaw Peninsula. Not hunters, fishers or even particularly outdoorsy types, he and his wife headed north. He had not even owned a snow blower before this. And about 30 miles out of Houghton at that. In the weeds.
If you can find a hundred acre lake there they might have a view on it.
He'd like to add some solar to the mix but cannot figure out how to keep the snow off the panels. Thank goodness for satellite internet. At least he can google up the Homesteader magazine online.
I sure would like to talk to that fella a little more. He was down looking after their West Allis house and getting some auto service done. Good luck I said.
If you can find a hundred acre lake there they might have a view on it.
He'd like to add some solar to the mix but cannot figure out how to keep the snow off the panels. Thank goodness for satellite internet. At least he can google up the Homesteader magazine online.
I sure would like to talk to that fella a little more. He was down looking after their West Allis house and getting some auto service done. Good luck I said.
Five Homemade Cookies
Shakira first told me, after spying the GPS map on the dash of the shuttle, that her brother had been her GPS before he moved to Houston. He'd been a cabbie in Milwaukee for over six years. He had told her stories of many of the interesting people he met in the cab. And I told her I understood.
Their father lived in New Orleans and, after Hurricane Katrina they were not able to locate him for almost 7 months. The son went down and found that he'd been relocated to Houston. They both stayed on. She doesn’t have a GPS anymore.
She said her oldest boy is going to MATC and decided to live at home because he can save on rent, get his laundry done and get good food. He told her that. What a good mom.
So, we talked about food. I asked if she made shakshuka and did she put eggs in hers? She does. I said the first time I had it was at the Shahrazad Restaurant on Oakland and Locust and they do not. I'd also gotten the secret to the deal; Arabian Seven Spice. Amazing.
I told her that I had just been to Holy Land Grocery and picked some up from for in the bulk bin. Seven spice reminds me of Thanksgiving spices.
She also told me that she had baked some traditional date-filled cookies for the festival day Eid ul-Fitr after the month-long fast of Ramadan. She called them Ma'amoul. Did I have a minute to wait when I dropped her at home? Yes.
She ran inside and brought me five homemade cookies from her own kitchen. Amazing.
Their father lived in New Orleans and, after Hurricane Katrina they were not able to locate him for almost 7 months. The son went down and found that he'd been relocated to Houston. They both stayed on. She doesn’t have a GPS anymore.
She said her oldest boy is going to MATC and decided to live at home because he can save on rent, get his laundry done and get good food. He told her that. What a good mom.
So, we talked about food. I asked if she made shakshuka and did she put eggs in hers? She does. I said the first time I had it was at the Shahrazad Restaurant on Oakland and Locust and they do not. I'd also gotten the secret to the deal; Arabian Seven Spice. Amazing.
I told her that I had just been to Holy Land Grocery and picked some up from for in the bulk bin. Seven spice reminds me of Thanksgiving spices.
She also told me that she had baked some traditional date-filled cookies for the festival day Eid ul-Fitr after the month-long fast of Ramadan. She called them Ma'amoul. Did I have a minute to wait when I dropped her at home? Yes.
She ran inside and brought me five homemade cookies from her own kitchen. Amazing.
 |
| Yes. There are only 4.33 cookies showing. I couldn't wait. |
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Big Bubble Day
It was a big day in the shuttle bubble yesterday. That’s the first time I called it a bubble. There’s something to that. It’s a different zone.
I met a Puerto Rican preacher, a Chinese cook, my second retired zookeeper, a young-ish self-employed computer jockey, a retired railroad worker, and my first chiropractor.
The preacher and I talked about El Dios, fluctuating congregations and his good-old-days as a cabbie in San Juan. Man, that was when a hundred dollars was worth something.
The Chinese cook - John - told me how to make very tender chicken breasts just like they always are when you get Chinese take out. He’s been here 20 years and has not been practicing his English. So, good luck with the chicken, David. I’ll see if I understood him and pass along the technique.
The computer jockey had a dozen boxes in his car before he had to get towed in. He should have rented a car. Probably a delay that ripples down to his next pay check. I took him home and we unloaded in front of his garage. I hope the rain let up before his cardboard got all wet.
The zookeeper talked about feeding steak to Sampson. That was before we knew what gorillas preferred to eat. Can we remember a time that far back? And, according to him, Sampson died of a heart attack. So, eat less steak. Eat more vegetables.
The retired rail worker took a look at the actuarial tables and decided he didn’t want to work and then die. So, he retired. We talked a lot about food quality and organics. Quite the Christian, too. Lots of volunteer work in his days now.
The chiropractor? My very first chiropractor in the shuttle. A story unto itself. He’s my age. His name is David, too.
And, he’s about 25% along the way to recovery after having been stung by a jellyfish off the coast of Georgia last May. It is the middle of August at this writing. He’s got a long way to go.
As you might imagine, we talked about the two types of chiropractors - straight and mixed -, bodily systems, good food and general well-being.
He said things we don’t want to hear. For instance, most of the damage we do to ourselves (think 80%) is caused by what we put into our bodies.
Here is the summing up for the day. Pray to God you eat less steak, more veggies, and retire as early as possible. And don’t leave your cardboard in the rain.
I met a Puerto Rican preacher, a Chinese cook, my second retired zookeeper, a young-ish self-employed computer jockey, a retired railroad worker, and my first chiropractor.
The preacher and I talked about El Dios, fluctuating congregations and his good-old-days as a cabbie in San Juan. Man, that was when a hundred dollars was worth something.
The Chinese cook - John - told me how to make very tender chicken breasts just like they always are when you get Chinese take out. He’s been here 20 years and has not been practicing his English. So, good luck with the chicken, David. I’ll see if I understood him and pass along the technique.
The computer jockey had a dozen boxes in his car before he had to get towed in. He should have rented a car. Probably a delay that ripples down to his next pay check. I took him home and we unloaded in front of his garage. I hope the rain let up before his cardboard got all wet.
The zookeeper talked about feeding steak to Sampson. That was before we knew what gorillas preferred to eat. Can we remember a time that far back? And, according to him, Sampson died of a heart attack. So, eat less steak. Eat more vegetables.
The retired rail worker took a look at the actuarial tables and decided he didn’t want to work and then die. So, he retired. We talked a lot about food quality and organics. Quite the Christian, too. Lots of volunteer work in his days now.
The chiropractor? My very first chiropractor in the shuttle. A story unto itself. He’s my age. His name is David, too.
And, he’s about 25% along the way to recovery after having been stung by a jellyfish off the coast of Georgia last May. It is the middle of August at this writing. He’s got a long way to go.
As you might imagine, we talked about the two types of chiropractors - straight and mixed -, bodily systems, good food and general well-being.
He said things we don’t want to hear. For instance, most of the damage we do to ourselves (think 80%) is caused by what we put into our bodies.
Here is the summing up for the day. Pray to God you eat less steak, more veggies, and retire as early as possible. And don’t leave your cardboard in the rain.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Semi-pro Inventor
Jim and I pulled up to a stop light before we got on the freeway. There was a car behind us with over-sized thumping bass speakers rattling our windows.
“I’d like to invent a mirror amp that reflects the sound back to him so that it’s too much and he has to turn it down.” I said.
Jim didn’t say anything.
“Do you invent things?’ I asked.
Turns out Jim had been waiting for someone to ask him that.
I took him out past Waukesha West High School. It’s a much longer trip than we usually make but ... there were special circumstances.
He’s a semi-pro bowler that has been downsized and is out of work. And for the moment that’s fine with him. More time for bowling and working on his invention.
We talked about marketing, manufacturing, packaging, distribution - the whole sticky ball of wax. I’ve been in the wax before. I heard him make small, pleasing sounds a couple times when I passed along an idea or two.
Apparently if you bowl a lot your thumb will expand. If you play long enough it will contract again. In order to bowl consistently it’s better not to have your thumb changing sizes. He fashioned a Velcro closure, elastic band to harness the thumb between frames. And, according to him, it works. He might have been my first inventor.
Anyway, if your thumb is changing sizes and ruining your game, keep you eyes open at the lanes. There might be something coming just for you.
“I’d like to invent a mirror amp that reflects the sound back to him so that it’s too much and he has to turn it down.” I said.
Jim didn’t say anything.
“Do you invent things?’ I asked.
Turns out Jim had been waiting for someone to ask him that.
I took him out past Waukesha West High School. It’s a much longer trip than we usually make but ... there were special circumstances.
He’s a semi-pro bowler that has been downsized and is out of work. And for the moment that’s fine with him. More time for bowling and working on his invention.
We talked about marketing, manufacturing, packaging, distribution - the whole sticky ball of wax. I’ve been in the wax before. I heard him make small, pleasing sounds a couple times when I passed along an idea or two.
Apparently if you bowl a lot your thumb will expand. If you play long enough it will contract again. In order to bowl consistently it’s better not to have your thumb changing sizes. He fashioned a Velcro closure, elastic band to harness the thumb between frames. And, according to him, it works. He might have been my first inventor.
Anyway, if your thumb is changing sizes and ruining your game, keep you eyes open at the lanes. There might be something coming just for you.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Not a taxi, but ...
A friend of mine thought of me and sent this along.
~~~
Hi David,
I've been reading Parker Palmer's latest book "Healing the Heart of Democracy". Excellent book - I highly recommend it. In the chapter on "Life in the Company of Strangers" he talks about a conversation he had with a taxi driver in NYC. He was hoping he'd get the driver to drive more cautiously, but instead the cabby got more excited. Palmer had asked him how he liked his job. The cabby said:
Well, you never know who's getting into the cab, so it's a little dangerous. But you meet a lot of people. You get to know the public. Which teaches you a lot in life. You don't know anything if you don't know the public. You exchange ideas and you learn a lot from people. It's like going to school. Meeting all these different kinds of people, everything helps, it doesn't hurt. If you only like one kind of people, it's no good! We talk, if I have a better idea, I tell 'em! Maybe they say yes, maybe they say no -- that's how I educate myself. It makes me happy. You can't buy this kind of education. If you're with the same kind of people all the time, it's like wearing the same suit all the time--you get sick of it. But the public--that keeps you alive!
I thought of you driving the shuttle - you get to meet all kinds of people and exchange all kinds of ideas!
CZ
~~~
Hi David,
I've been reading Parker Palmer's latest book "Healing the Heart of Democracy". Excellent book - I highly recommend it. In the chapter on "Life in the Company of Strangers" he talks about a conversation he had with a taxi driver in NYC. He was hoping he'd get the driver to drive more cautiously, but instead the cabby got more excited. Palmer had asked him how he liked his job. The cabby said:
Well, you never know who's getting into the cab, so it's a little dangerous. But you meet a lot of people. You get to know the public. Which teaches you a lot in life. You don't know anything if you don't know the public. You exchange ideas and you learn a lot from people. It's like going to school. Meeting all these different kinds of people, everything helps, it doesn't hurt. If you only like one kind of people, it's no good! We talk, if I have a better idea, I tell 'em! Maybe they say yes, maybe they say no -- that's how I educate myself. It makes me happy. You can't buy this kind of education. If you're with the same kind of people all the time, it's like wearing the same suit all the time--you get sick of it. But the public--that keeps you alive!
I thought of you driving the shuttle - you get to meet all kinds of people and exchange all kinds of ideas!
CZ
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Cairo and Back
Yesterday I dropped Betty off at a day care center. She reads to kids. What a great gig. And NB was in the car, too. He piped up that she has a wonderful voice for story-telling. He won her over right then.
NB has been in pharmacy for 32 years - about half of it in forensic toxicology with Chicago law enforcement. He says he could tell some stories. I believe him. I listen and guess his ethnic origin as Arab.
“Pretty good,” he said, “I’m impressed. Most people think I’m Greek or Mexican.”
Really? I thought ... with an accent like that?
“I’m originally from Egypt.” he says.
I should have said Egypt. I knew it was Egypt. I got to go with my gut more often.
He bought his car with us ten years ago and has been coming for service ever since. We’re doing a great job.
Further, his car was done earlier than expected and I was able to pick him up before my shift was over. His wife was coming along and they were headed to Bed, Bath and Beyond to return some stuff. When I told him that’s what he was doing he looked at me like I was a mind reader.
“No, I just see your wife getting in the back seat with the BB&B bag from the store.” I told him. He laughed.
“And, what’s your name,” I asked his wife.
“You can call me Irene,” she said. “No one here can say my name.”
“Really?” I challenged, “I’ll bet I can.”
He gave her a nod.
All of a sudden I realized that I was backing out of their driveway and there was no way I could read her lips. I thought I might have gone too far.
Irene, indeed.
NB has been in pharmacy for 32 years - about half of it in forensic toxicology with Chicago law enforcement. He says he could tell some stories. I believe him. I listen and guess his ethnic origin as Arab.
“Pretty good,” he said, “I’m impressed. Most people think I’m Greek or Mexican.”
Really? I thought ... with an accent like that?
“I’m originally from Egypt.” he says.
I should have said Egypt. I knew it was Egypt. I got to go with my gut more often.
He bought his car with us ten years ago and has been coming for service ever since. We’re doing a great job.
Further, his car was done earlier than expected and I was able to pick him up before my shift was over. His wife was coming along and they were headed to Bed, Bath and Beyond to return some stuff. When I told him that’s what he was doing he looked at me like I was a mind reader.
“No, I just see your wife getting in the back seat with the BB&B bag from the store.” I told him. He laughed.
“And, what’s your name,” I asked his wife.
“You can call me Irene,” she said. “No one here can say my name.”
“Really?” I challenged, “I’ll bet I can.”
He gave her a nod.
All of a sudden I realized that I was backing out of their driveway and there was no way I could read her lips. I thought I might have gone too far.
Irene, indeed.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Friday Friday Friday
Friday I took Angel to Conejitos. I think I’ve driven him before. He doesn’t speak any English - or that’s what he’d like me to think. And he’s a chatty fellow. He wants to talk - in Spanish - about the relative merits of the Honda and the Hyundai. Which did I think was better? Well, I said, in my passable Spanish, I have never driven either of these so - I don’t have an opinion.
Finally I told him - in Spanish again - that I was sorry, I can’t drive and chat in the second language. Too much thinking. Too tired and hungry.
“¿Porque no comes??
Why don’t I eat?
Driving. Driving. Driving.
When I returned I was dispatched to the airport to pick up Marty at AirTran. I cued his phone number to be ready. Halfway to the airport I get a call from the dealership from another service adviser. Could I also pick up Jason? He’s also coming in on AirTran. I pull over on Grange Ave. and scribble his number down.
I get into the line at the airport and dial Marty. He’s with Tara and they’re coming in from NY/NJ with enough luggage for a wedding in Chenequa. I then dial Jason. And he is with his wife and a baby in a bucket. They have enough luggage for ... I never did find out what. We squeezed the baby bucket into the back seat and mom fastened Addison in. I couldn’t really open my door into traffic so Marty and Jason did all the loading and we all fit - barely. I never did hear the mom’s name. And the baby was the topic for the middle and back seats the whole way.
Marty and Tara had a little time before the rehearsal dinner and wanted to see the Calatrava and “what else?” he asked. Lakefront, Alterra, Marina as long as you’re so close. Or, the river walk and the shops on Broadway and Chicago. Third Ward. That’s what I told him. I do not think I’d like being an airport cabbie.
Both couples were coming in to our rental department. Apparently we have better rates than the airport Enterprise lot.
Before I could get these folks offloaded, Xeng - a Hmong fellow, was getting ready for a ride home. Thank goodness there was only one of him and his English was good.
Finally I told him - in Spanish again - that I was sorry, I can’t drive and chat in the second language. Too much thinking. Too tired and hungry.
“¿Porque no comes??
Why don’t I eat?
Driving. Driving. Driving.
When I returned I was dispatched to the airport to pick up Marty at AirTran. I cued his phone number to be ready. Halfway to the airport I get a call from the dealership from another service adviser. Could I also pick up Jason? He’s also coming in on AirTran. I pull over on Grange Ave. and scribble his number down.
I get into the line at the airport and dial Marty. He’s with Tara and they’re coming in from NY/NJ with enough luggage for a wedding in Chenequa. I then dial Jason. And he is with his wife and a baby in a bucket. They have enough luggage for ... I never did find out what. We squeezed the baby bucket into the back seat and mom fastened Addison in. I couldn’t really open my door into traffic so Marty and Jason did all the loading and we all fit - barely. I never did hear the mom’s name. And the baby was the topic for the middle and back seats the whole way.
Marty and Tara had a little time before the rehearsal dinner and wanted to see the Calatrava and “what else?” he asked. Lakefront, Alterra, Marina as long as you’re so close. Or, the river walk and the shops on Broadway and Chicago. Third Ward. That’s what I told him. I do not think I’d like being an airport cabbie.
Both couples were coming in to our rental department. Apparently we have better rates than the airport Enterprise lot.
Before I could get these folks offloaded, Xeng - a Hmong fellow, was getting ready for a ride home. Thank goodness there was only one of him and his English was good.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Twain on Travel
I do declare. I have gone 'round the world and back in the customer service shuttle.
People marvel at my ability to speak to them in their own name.
I chalk it up to my many years as an envoy at the UN.
:-)
Actually - listening is key.
"... nothing so liberalizes a man and expands the kindly instincts that nature put in him as travel and contact with many kinds of people." ~ Mark Twain
People marvel at my ability to speak to them in their own name.
I chalk it up to my many years as an envoy at the UN.
:-)
Actually - listening is key.
"... nothing so liberalizes a man and expands the kindly instincts that nature put in him as travel and contact with many kinds of people." ~ Mark Twain
Mary and Harry
The New Testament; Mary and Harry
Mary was first in, first out at 113th and Rawson. I asked her what she was doing while she waited at home for her car.
“House work.”
“Well, you’ll feel better when that’s done.” I said.
“It’s never done.”
Alright then. Moving along ...
“Harry! What are you doing today?”
“I’m finishing up a paper I am giving at a conference in Germany in August.”
“Well,” I said, “isn’t that something. What’s the paper on?”
“My research and further interpretations on the Q narrative in the New Testament.”
“Welcome aboard,” I said, offering my hand, “you’re the first Q researcher I’ve ever met.”
“Q?” Mary asked.
“Yes,” Harry said, “there were different source writers in the Gospels and we believe that the Q writer is the most authentic voice of Jesus coming through any of the Gospels. Matthew and Luke borrowed heavily from Mark and John was on his own.”
Harry is a lifelong professor that retired two years ago. When I asked how it was going he said, with a noticeable glee in his voice, that he gets to write all the time now. He translates from old Greek, German, and some French into English, I suppose.
Imagine that. Writing all the time. How wonderful for him.
Later in the morning I picked both of them up and took them back to the dealership - one at a time. Mary said she wished we’d decided to take him home first so she could have spent more time asking him questions. Mary also seemed to have a grip on the New Testament.
She did allow that she favors the divinely inspired camp of bible readers and thinks that Harry’s a skeptic that needs to prove something.
I, the writer/driver, kind of favor the Buddhist Nagarjuna when he offered all four possibilities.
Yes. No. Both yes and no. Neither yes, nor no.
Similarly, Mu, a word from Japanese Zen indicates that a quicker way around is to un-ask the question. And that reminds me of my father saying: “You can’t get there from here.”
On we go.
Mary was first in, first out at 113th and Rawson. I asked her what she was doing while she waited at home for her car.
“House work.”
“Well, you’ll feel better when that’s done.” I said.
“It’s never done.”
Alright then. Moving along ...
“Harry! What are you doing today?”
“I’m finishing up a paper I am giving at a conference in Germany in August.”
“Well,” I said, “isn’t that something. What’s the paper on?”
“My research and further interpretations on the Q narrative in the New Testament.”
“Welcome aboard,” I said, offering my hand, “you’re the first Q researcher I’ve ever met.”
“Q?” Mary asked.
“Yes,” Harry said, “there were different source writers in the Gospels and we believe that the Q writer is the most authentic voice of Jesus coming through any of the Gospels. Matthew and Luke borrowed heavily from Mark and John was on his own.”
Harry is a lifelong professor that retired two years ago. When I asked how it was going he said, with a noticeable glee in his voice, that he gets to write all the time now. He translates from old Greek, German, and some French into English, I suppose.
Imagine that. Writing all the time. How wonderful for him.
Later in the morning I picked both of them up and took them back to the dealership - one at a time. Mary said she wished we’d decided to take him home first so she could have spent more time asking him questions. Mary also seemed to have a grip on the New Testament.
She did allow that she favors the divinely inspired camp of bible readers and thinks that Harry’s a skeptic that needs to prove something.
I, the writer/driver, kind of favor the Buddhist Nagarjuna when he offered all four possibilities.
Yes. No. Both yes and no. Neither yes, nor no.
Similarly, Mu, a word from Japanese Zen indicates that a quicker way around is to un-ask the question. And that reminds me of my father saying: “You can’t get there from here.”
On we go.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Wild Flower Lawn
Friday, July 13, 2012
Two Mister Lee
In one day I had two men named Lee in the shuttle. Both of them with AC problems. Both of them with a cooler ride home.
The first Mister Lee is from South Viet Nam. He’s works as a tae kwon do instructor. We talked about breathing and movement. We might speak of that more at a later date. He married a Thai woman. She's very smart and he admits to being lucky guy. She was born in China and moved to Thailand before coming here. They both speak English - thank goodness. She does not speak Vietnamese and he speaks no Thai or Chinese.
Mister Lee number two was born in South Korea. His family emigrated to Brazil when he was three years old. They stayed 15 years before coming to the States 30 years ago. His parents kept the native language instruction alive in him and he’s still fluent in Korean. He has forgotten most of his Portuguese. Here’s a guy that can tell you how great America is and you know he has something to compare to.
The next day I take two Asian women - a grandmother/granddaughter couple - to Steins Garden Center a block from the dealership. They were going to buy plants while their car was being serviced. The plan was to pick one of them up while the other guarded the purchases.
When their car was ready I called them for pickup. The younger asked if I could wait another 15 minutes. They had walked across the street to Pho Viet and were finishing lunch. I pulled up to the restaurant in 10 minutes and they were waiting outside already.
When the grandmother got in I asked her how she liked it.
“Good. Next time. You come with us. Have noodle.”
I am continually amazed at the good people coming through the dealer service drive.
The first Mister Lee is from South Viet Nam. He’s works as a tae kwon do instructor. We talked about breathing and movement. We might speak of that more at a later date. He married a Thai woman. She's very smart and he admits to being lucky guy. She was born in China and moved to Thailand before coming here. They both speak English - thank goodness. She does not speak Vietnamese and he speaks no Thai or Chinese.
Mister Lee number two was born in South Korea. His family emigrated to Brazil when he was three years old. They stayed 15 years before coming to the States 30 years ago. His parents kept the native language instruction alive in him and he’s still fluent in Korean. He has forgotten most of his Portuguese. Here’s a guy that can tell you how great America is and you know he has something to compare to.
The next day I take two Asian women - a grandmother/granddaughter couple - to Steins Garden Center a block from the dealership. They were going to buy plants while their car was being serviced. The plan was to pick one of them up while the other guarded the purchases.
When their car was ready I called them for pickup. The younger asked if I could wait another 15 minutes. They had walked across the street to Pho Viet and were finishing lunch. I pulled up to the restaurant in 10 minutes and they were waiting outside already.
When the grandmother got in I asked her how she liked it.
“Good. Next time. You come with us. Have noodle.”
I am continually amazed at the good people coming through the dealer service drive.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Welcome to Wisconsin
Tuesday a couple pulled in to the service drive for surprise diagnostics. I walked around the Prius, saw the Ohio plates and said, "Welcome to Wisconsin."
We needed a few hours to squeeze them into the schedule. After the paperwork we piled in to the shuttle and headed downtown. They'd been to the Milwaukee Public Market before and wanted to go back.
They're mostly retired and spend their summers in Fontana. When I mentioned I was originally from Williams Bay Bill told me that Daddy Maxwell's was his favorite restaurant anywhere. Laurie remembered it from the days it was called the Arctic Circle. Small world.
Bill was interested in breakfast and all I could think of was Alterra a little further south on Water Street. It was a beautiful morning and I invited them to explore the river walk on their way up to the Public Market.
Wonderful people. I wish I could have picked them up when their car was ready. They had such a good time they wrote me a letter.It's nice to know when you're doing a good job.
Dear Dave,
We were so disappointed not to be able to see you again yesterday afternoon, though we were ably transported back to the dealership by Zeke. Thanks to you we had a wonderful day in Milwaukee, starting at the coffeehouse, which, by the way, did have breakfast items in addition to great pastries. After sitting outside and reading the Journal Sentinel we then walked along the Riverwalk to the Public Market where, among other things, we found an area upstairs with tables and a kiosk of used books from the public library. I found a good one. We then ambled along in the 3rd ward and came across ReTique, an upscale Goodwill store where we bought a pair of shorts and a T shirt, as well as another book. That's when we found out that the car needed work that was going to take another 4 hours or so. Eventually we had lunch at a really nice spot outside--Swig. Books came in handy for the rest of the afternoon.
I wish we could have thanked you in person ..., our address in WI is ??? Fontana 53125. And also in case you get down to Lake Geneva, you'll know where to find us. Come visit us and bring your wife.
You made our day, and we think you're a great asset to the dealership. :)
Laurie B.
We needed a few hours to squeeze them into the schedule. After the paperwork we piled in to the shuttle and headed downtown. They'd been to the Milwaukee Public Market before and wanted to go back.
They're mostly retired and spend their summers in Fontana. When I mentioned I was originally from Williams Bay Bill told me that Daddy Maxwell's was his favorite restaurant anywhere. Laurie remembered it from the days it was called the Arctic Circle. Small world.
Bill was interested in breakfast and all I could think of was Alterra a little further south on Water Street. It was a beautiful morning and I invited them to explore the river walk on their way up to the Public Market.
Wonderful people. I wish I could have picked them up when their car was ready. They had such a good time they wrote me a letter.It's nice to know when you're doing a good job.
Dear Dave,
We were so disappointed not to be able to see you again yesterday afternoon, though we were ably transported back to the dealership by Zeke. Thanks to you we had a wonderful day in Milwaukee, starting at the coffeehouse, which, by the way, did have breakfast items in addition to great pastries. After sitting outside and reading the Journal Sentinel we then walked along the Riverwalk to the Public Market where, among other things, we found an area upstairs with tables and a kiosk of used books from the public library. I found a good one. We then ambled along in the 3rd ward and came across ReTique, an upscale Goodwill store where we bought a pair of shorts and a T shirt, as well as another book. That's when we found out that the car needed work that was going to take another 4 hours or so. Eventually we had lunch at a really nice spot outside--Swig. Books came in handy for the rest of the afternoon.
I wish we could have thanked you in person ..., our address in WI is ??? Fontana 53125. And also in case you get down to Lake Geneva, you'll know where to find us. Come visit us and bring your wife.
You made our day, and we think you're a great asset to the dealership. :)
Laurie B.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Please and thank you.
On Good Friday morning I walked into the lounge and greeted the two guys waiting there.
Pat was in town from Kansas City over Easter to visit his mother. He’d brought her car in for service. What a good son.
He writes loss prevention insurance. When his clients ask how to prevent accidents he says, “Say please and thank you more often. When there’s respect, everything goes better.”
It’s lightweight oil that greases the machine.
The other guy was peeling a banana. He said he was a retired priest. “Sometimes I like to take the shuttle out and back just to meet people.”
When I asked him to come along he declined. He was having an oil change and was hoping to leave before I returned.
Too bad. He would have enjoyed himself. Maybe next time.
Pat was in town from Kansas City over Easter to visit his mother. He’d brought her car in for service. What a good son.
He writes loss prevention insurance. When his clients ask how to prevent accidents he says, “Say please and thank you more often. When there’s respect, everything goes better.”
It’s lightweight oil that greases the machine.
The other guy was peeling a banana. He said he was a retired priest. “Sometimes I like to take the shuttle out and back just to meet people.”
When I asked him to come along he declined. He was having an oil change and was hoping to leave before I returned.
Too bad. He would have enjoyed himself. Maybe next time.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Sister Mary Agnes
I was running a little late for my 8:30 run. I went in to the waiting area looking for three customers. There were two people engaging in pleasant and animated conversation with the service manager and an older woman sitting alone.
I announced myself and my intentions and the older woman verbally accosted me. She was extremely upset with the dealership and was nearly beside herself.
“Let me start again,” I said, “My name is David and I’m looking for three people that need a ride. At this point I do not know if you’re one of them or not. I am sorry you’re having a rough time. If I am taking you home you can tell me the whole story on the way.”
By now the two people talking to the service manager have left the room in the direction of the shuttle. I still did not know if they were riders or not.
“I have someone with me.” she said.
“I’ll look for the person. A man or a woman?”
“A man. He went out for a cigarette.”
“Did you see what direction?”
Turns out the fellow was in the cashiers office down an aisle looking at parts.
So, we load up the four of them and away we go. She said her name was Sister Mary Agnes and when she said damn something or other I made mention of it. Turns out she lied about being a nun.
Apparently all this froth was generated because the service writer apparently asked, “When would you like to pick up your car? About two?”
“I made an appointment,” she tells me, “It’s eight in the morning. I don’t know why a brake job should take until 2 o’clock! I have things to do. I need my car.”
She didn’t seem to realize that he had asked her two separate questions.
I invited her to make a counter offer next time.
Her car was done by 11:15 a.m. I called, told her I was coming and said she’d wait outside. I said it was hot out. Stay indoors. I’ll call again when I’m 15 or 20 blocks away.
She used to tend bar. She had some pretty good jokes.
It turns out all she needed was someone to pay attention to her.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Transit
I'm intending to move into this dedicated shuttle blog from the current blog: http://goodworkcards.wordpress.com/category/shuttlebug/
This is a temporary post - here to give you an idea of the people I meet.
This is a temporary post - here to give you an idea of the people I meet.
Non-Shuttle Time
Non-Shuttle Time
Last Sunday we were at Villa Terrace with our Waterford friends Bob and Mary listening to Macyn Taylor play fabulous finger-style guitar. She played for two hours straight - no break. Amazing.
During the program a woman that came up off my right shoulder and got my attention.
“I just wanted to say hi to my favorite shuttle driver.” she said.
“Hi.” “Hi.” was all it was and away she went. I knew I had just met her for the very first time earlier that week and did not immediately remember her name. (You should all be glad I am looking out the window while I’m driving.)
A couple days later we talked about that chance meeting again and she was a bit embarrassed. “That’s wasn’t fair of me not to introduce myself. You must meet so many people.” she said.
“Let me tell you a little story so that you don’t feel so alone,” I said. “Later during that same performance on Sunday a woman came up to me and said, “Are you David, the printer? You’re gray. I’m gray, but I see you’re still in there by your eyes.”
And, there stood Susie A. who did business with me when I managed a small print shop on North Avenue twenty-seven years ago.
To be recognized: simply beautiful.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Last Sunday we were at Villa Terrace with our Waterford friends Bob and Mary listening to Macyn Taylor play fabulous finger-style guitar. She played for two hours straight - no break. Amazing.
During the program a woman that came up off my right shoulder and got my attention.
“I just wanted to say hi to my favorite shuttle driver.” she said.
“Hi.” “Hi.” was all it was and away she went. I knew I had just met her for the very first time earlier that week and did not immediately remember her name. (You should all be glad I am looking out the window while I’m driving.)
A couple days later we talked about that chance meeting again and she was a bit embarrassed. “That’s wasn’t fair of me not to introduce myself. You must meet so many people.” she said.
“Let me tell you a little story so that you don’t feel so alone,” I said. “Later during that same performance on Sunday a woman came up to me and said, “Are you David, the printer? You’re gray. I’m gray, but I see you’re still in there by your eyes.”
And, there stood Susie A. who did business with me when I managed a small print shop on North Avenue twenty-seven years ago.
To be recognized: simply beautiful.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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