Taxi!

Maybe everyone in the world hails a cab everyday. Or at least once a week. Maybe not. Either way, it's a way of life for me in New York. And there are rules. And karma. If you cut in front of someone for a cab, which I've done, it shall be done unto you. You may even find yourself pulled from one. Thankfully, I have yet to have been.

And there are quite a few out there, granted, not when it's raining. When I first moved to the city, living uptown, Kennedy Car Service was on my block. And so began my love affair with the Lincoln Town Car taxi. The only drawback, that darned rear-view mirror, and the frequency of the driver's eyes in it.

These days, I'm for the straight sedan. The old cop car yellow cab. Worn seats that have seen more than you could imagine. You can put your feet up in the window and lounge. That's my kind. I'm not a fan of the Jeep Cherokee newbies, unless entertaining a group. I think they're hybrids, but certainly have the greenest drivers. You'd think the newest cars would go to those with the most time on the job, but not the case.

And then there's the mini-van. Oh so not a fan. What does a girl have to do for a dial on the side of the captain's chair? I swear, you end up crunched at a 45° angle the whole ride. Craft-o-taxi gone all wrong.

The only I have yet to experience, are new Nissans, I think...will keep you posted.

With all this talk of reducing your carbon footprint, I gotta let up on my taxi thing. I love not having a car but don't mind been driven around from time to time. And I'll say, some of the most interesting conversations in life happen in a cab ride home.

ABCs

Psychology Today has revolutionized the way I view my life yet again. An article called "Plan B Lovers" got me today. The notion is that each of us, married, single, gay straight, female, male has a potential back-up lover. It starts with interest in another person and goes beyond friendship, though isn't necessarily sexual, and incorporates mutual fascination and flirting. The relationship exists just in case the Plan A relationship falls apart. So that there's a safety.

Now, I'm single. But I'm wondering what the majority of married people would think about this? Is it considered cheating if consciously or subconsciously, even unconsciously, HA!, you build an eject button lover into your life? Or is it just common sense? Is it fatalistic or pessimistic? Or simply pragmatic?

For me...I'm left wondering, what if all you have are Plan Bs? Or Cs?!?

Omenha

First things first. When I went to type out the title on this entry, I wrote "Omaho." HA! Freudian?

According to Marta, one of Tony's co-workers, Omaha is beef, drinking and corn-huskers. I can dig it. I like all three.

Tony and I were talking yesterday about how it's important to free yourself of nasty or dangerous people. Those who strive to threaten or torment. Who needs that? Who wants to live scared? To be pure in intention and honest in action.

And then this morning, we walked out to the car. Headed to the airport to get me back to the city, we noticed that the passenger-side door of his car had been smashed.

See, there is this one guy in Omaha, let's call him Nemo (mind you, that's omen backward). So Nemo likes the guy Tony's been dating. A lot, apparently. And seeing the smashed window this morning, Tony jumped to the conclusion that it was intentional and a threat from this guy. Not cool. So we go back to the apartment to tell his brother, who in turn calls their mom. And the cops. Great.

Turns out, a majority of cars in their apartment complex have been broken into while in the building lot. So I guess this man exists as a warning himself. And Tony is taking him as such.

The power of selection. It's simply a matter of knowing which beef to eat, beverage to drink and corn to husk.

Heart

Sometimes in life I feel like things happen for me. As though certain things in this life were meant. In specific. For me. Maybe I'm an egoist? But there I was. Screaming my head off, with the majority of Nebraska (well, those who weren't at the Dave Matthews concert that night...or out cow-tipping...heh, heh) for Heart to do an encore.

Have you listened to Heart lately, people? Fine. Maybe not the coolest-looking group in the world, but, hell, that woman can sing!

So, they come out and did an encore of 3 songs. The Who's Love Reign O'er Me (I blame Mark Ross from the Young Singers of Callanwolde for my Who obsession from age 10 to maybe 25...), their own Crazy on You, and Led Zeppelin's Going to California. I almost cried. It was just beautiful. Music is amazing.

And as I look around, I'm the only person singing. With all my heart. Overjoyed. And probably a bit overwhelming...at least for Nebraska. But then again, we went with Sidney, Tony's sixteen year-old cousin, featured...need I say more?

Summer in the city

I love New York in the summer. Undergarments matter none whatsoever. You can wear a backless dress with the tackiest bra you have jutting out the back. Or a wifebeater with nothing on under it except your nipples. Anything goes. And the fellas, too. No shirt, no shoes, no skivvies? No problem. And people may look. But nobody really cares. People just seem to let people be. I guess it's a luxury, when you really think about it. This country. Freedom.

And lightning bugs! They're all over the place.

Thoughts & eavesdropping

Who buys fruit from a stand on the corner of 79th and 2nd Avenue? Or 14th and 3rd? How many cars, buses, trucks, how much exhaust can one peach suffer and still taste good?

Since when did the bicycle lane grow to include kids on crotch rocket Suzukis weaving in and out at 60 miles per hour? Yikes.

I think that if I drove a cab in the city, I'd be the angriest woman alive.

This ten year-old kid walking by me in the park just said to his friend, "Man, you know it's true. Girls who are ugly now, grow up pretty. Girls who are pretty now, turn out ugly." Funny.

OMG, OMA!

There is nothing better than getting a call from a friend screaming into the phone from excitement, words coming at you so fast, you're clueless what you've just been told. The requisite pause, and response, "WHAT?!?"

And as you struggle to listen to the same thing repeated a tiny bit slower, you realize that "concert...oh my god...tickets...ohmygood ohmygod ohmygod...Heart, Cheap Trick and Journey...July 22nd....AAAAHHH!" NICE!

As many of you may know, I love to sing. It was one thing for which I was mocked a fair amount of my life. That, and my toes. But I've come to love both. And am more than happy to share them! Especially the voice thing. I've got some stuff down, Led Zeppelin, Blind Faith, Cyndi Lauper. You know, classics. But those women from Heart? That's some hard stuff to pull off. Trust.

So I'm going to visit Tony in Omaha, and we're going to the concert. I can't wait to see him. Or the new Journey front man. We'll see if he can rival Steve Perry...and I'm hoping to channel the voice of Ann Wilson. For the rest of my life. Wish me luck!

Zoo

I spent the day at the Bronx Zoo with the town crier. Wednesday is donation day. All excited at first, once in the zoo, I couldn't help but wish that I'd been taking photos of creatures in their natural environments. Wishing I could see them triumphant, delicate, wild, real. I know, I'd end up with a tiger gnawing on my leg.

What is a zoo? A microcosm of the world built in the middle of a city. Somehow it seems so unnatural, unnecessary. I guess for smaller creatures it doesn't seem so unjust. But those that roam over plains, and those that migrate. I'm conflicted.

And yet still, here I am, leaning over the railing, peering up to see the two-toed sloth. In awe as the snowy owl makes a 360 with his head. Touched as a peacock with her newborn chicks passes. Waxy tree frogs, camels, a lion and lioness. And lemurs! There is a Madagascar exhibit full of various lemurs. A glimpse of a different life. What would it be like if these were the animals in your daily life?

The Delta Skyfari (aside: is there anything out there anymore without corporate sponsorship?) takes you up above the zoo. In the air, the city seems so far away. The skyscrapers barely discernible. A thin layer of gray haze lurking above steel, asphalt, exhaust. I guess, it's its own zoo. Hopefully, the animals are far enough away from that glorious chaos.