Uber Driver’s Blues

A parody inspired by the song ‘Smuggler’s Blues’ by Glen Frey (Songwriters: Frey Glenn Lewis / Tempchin Jack Smuggler’s Blues lyrics © Red Cloud Music, Night River Publishing)

Uber Driver’s Blues

There was no money coming in

No one was hiring, So I had an idea

I downloaded the Uber driver app

Put in all my information

But I didn’t think I’d get onboard so fast

The app went live and I hit the road

So baby I was on the road

I’m behind the wheel, learning how to navigate

Trying to figure out how to do this job

Even though I wasn’t given any info on how to do it

I’m sorry to my passengers whose navigation I screwed up

It was the nature of the business back then

It was the Uber Driver’s Blues

Uber Driver’s Blues

The drivers and the riders, the idiots and the jerks

Bad driving, bad behavior, the indecent proposals I had to turn down

No matter if it’s day or if it’s night

You got to keep driving to get the fare

There’s lots of interesting people, lots of good conversation

But there are a few loony conversations, too

Every rider’s name is forgotten because all you have is their first name

Perhaps you’d understand it better

Driving a car like I do, it’s all about the hustle

It’s the Uber Driver Blues

Uber Driver Blues

You read about it online, watch the YouTube videos

They say it’s not going to last, but we’re still on the road

Moving through the streets, up and down the highways

We drive day and night, we’re here to stay

It’s keeping people like me out of call-centers

You ask anyone else they’ll say I’d do it if I didn’t have to navigate

Or deal with drunks or potential puke

But that’s just between me and you

It’s a decent proposition, this driving around day and night

It’s the politics of the hustle

It’s the Uber Driver’s Blues

Uber Driver’s Blues

In Search of Subtitles (for my books)

Image by hudsoncrafted from Pixabay

Ever since I started my non-fiction book projects, I’ve been in search of a subtitle for each one that fits the book. Why? Because I feel like the subtitle gives the reader an expectation about what they’re going to be reading about. The title is like a summary and the subtitle is like a bit more detail. Today as I got out of the shower, five subtitles came to me and I scribbled them down onto a piece of notebook paper before I updated each page here with the subtitle. Now here’s the story and meaning behind each one:

Breaking Radio Silence: A Self-Help/Memoire Hybrid

In the Fall of 2016 when I first conceived of what would become ‘Breaking Radio Silence’, I simply labeled the file ‘Untitled Self-Help/Memoire Hybrid’. The goal at that time was to use writing to try and figure out why I thought and felt the way I did and to use my own experiences to illustrate anything I learned in the process. The title ‘Breaking Radio Silence’ wouldn’t come to me till the Spring of 2018 and it fit perfectly from the moment it came to me. But for the last four years this has been a book project in search of a subtitle until today. And as I start writing this book in earnest now, I need all the focus I can get so this is why a subtitle was so important for this project.

Stand or Fall: A Rebellion of Hope

After the US Presidential Election in 2016, I (along with millions of other people) went, “What the hell just happened?” I came up with an idea to use writing to try and figure out how things got so fucked up. Now of course I didn’t know what the next six years would go nor could I have imagined what’s happened even in my worst nightmares. At the time I first came up with this project-idea, I simply labeled the file, ‘Untitled Political Book’ because at that time I knew this book was going to be seen as political. Like, duh but I’m not a scholar so I thought I’d make it personal and tell my own story alongside what’s happened in the last forty years or so in terms of politics and the world in general. I was searching for a subtitle for this book because I kept asking myself what the purpose of writing this if not just for myself? And then the quote from the movie ‘Star Wars: Rogue One’ came to my mind, “Rebellions are built on hope.” That’s what I want this book to be, a statement of rebellion and hope.

Behind the Story: How I Write and the Stories Behind My Writing

This book’s origins are a bit murky though I think I came up with this one sometime in 2018, I think around Fall if I remember correctly. Initially I wanted to do a straight how-to book but then I realized for me writing is more than just how-to. There’s a lot to my writing and I think my story in regards to that is worth telling. Now the title of this book was a struggle for me as the title just came to me a couple of months ago but without the subtitle until today.

Uber Tales: Stories and Observations From Behind the Wheel as an Uber Driver

Not long after I started working as an Uber driver in 2017, I began to post on my personal Facebook page stories and observations from the road that I titled ‘Uber Tales’. They took off and people really like hearing my stories and observations so I began to think there was a book in there. As of right now, I don’t have any really crazy or outrageous stories from the road and a lot has happened and changed since I started driving. Also, I’ve read a lot of news articles about Uber driving and I don’t really think a lot of these journalists have talked to a lot of drivers, or any at all. So I want to tell my story and it’s just my story because each driver has their own unique experiences and observations though over the years I’ve talked with other drivers and we do share some common thoughts and experiences.

Dirty Thoughts and Stories: Talking Dirty About Sex and Other Naughty Things and Fiction Inspired By My Dirty Thoughts

This is in its’ earliest stages right now mostly based on my blog here though I think over time I’ll have enough material for a book. This is a mix of non-fiction blog entries that might get expanded into longer essays along with fiction stories. The title is sort of self-explanatory as talking about sex is seen as dirty by a small yet very vocal segment of our population who really just need to learn how to get over their hang-ups and have some fun in life instead of trying to control every aspect of everyone else’s life, especially their sex lives. And naughty fiction is just fun to write and I’m not going to back down on that.

So this is where I’m at on these projects just to give out an update. It feels good to have subtitles I like and that fit well. Now I just need to get my ass to writing, which I will be doing in addition to everything else I need to do (like earn a living, eat, sleep, bathe, take care of my pets, etc.).

Uber Tales – Married Conversations, Edition

In five years of doing this gig, I’ve had plenty of married couples in the car. And yes, I can gauge the temperature of the relationship by what is said, or not said, or how it’s said, or what they do (or don’t do).

Have I had any couples that were in, shall we say, a frosty mood?

One comes to mind: It was late one night and I pick up this couple (lady and dude) with their dog. They’re not going too far but they’ve been drinking so I’m keeping them out of the clink. She starts in on him about this friend of his who, according to her, is a jerk. She really didn’t like this guy and from what she was saying, I think she was right in feeling like she did. Hubby really wasn’t defending his choice of friend too well and when we got to their house she got out of the car and just walked up to the house without looking back or waiting him. All I could think of was that he was probably thinking about shacking up with the dog in the doghouse because that’s where it felt like she was putting him up for the night.

Have I had any drunk couples and if so, how did it go?

I’ve had a few and a couple come to mind:

One couple I picked up I watched them walk out of the house together and I thought they were just hanging off each other. No, he was practically carrying her down the driveway. Luckily, we weren’t going too far and both were in a good mood and laughing about their predicament. The couple that gets drunk together stays together.

Another couple I picked up one night late from a swanky hotel-resort wasn’t happy. Hubby was practically carrying wifey out of the place and when she got in she cracked the window, leaned up against the side, then moaned and groaned all the way to their place (and had me hoping she wasn’t going to puke in the car- luckily she didn’t). We get to their place and hubby got her out of the car and started walking with her up to their house. But when she reached the mailbox (a nice big stone one), she ducked behind it and proceeded to hurl really hard (only had audio and not visual, thank doG). Hubby just nodded his head and kept walking up to the house. I honestly wonder how much she was going to remember the next morning but was forever grateful she didn’t puke him my car.

Usually when I get a couple in my car, they either clam up and don’t say much or they talk about boring stuff that doesn’t merit an Uber Tale. But in the last week, I’ve had three conversations that were a mix of dumb, condescending, and possible gaslighting.

I pick up this couple early one morning and the hubby contradicts every single thing the wifey says, like dates and what happened and any other detail. I’m thinking one of two things: she’s a ding-bat with a faulty memory (slight possibility on that as she did admit she had their driveway paved with a slight bend instead of straight, which would have been more practical), or hubby was a dickhead who always had to be right. My take was that this was a dysfunctional marriage these two seem to be stuck in.

Then I pick up this other couple and hubby acts surprised by every single thing wifey says, like he’s hearing it for the first time. Wifey doesn’t sound stupid or anything but hubby sure acted like he was a dumb-ass. To me, it sort of felt like he was talking down to her.

Then I had another couple in which hubby was like trying to explain to wifey every single thing he was seeing from the back passenger seat (okay, I understand not a lot of people get to be a passenger in a car looking at stuff). Again, the slightly condescending tone rubbed me the wrong way because he was also contradicting her replies to him, too (attempted gaslighting, anyone?).

From these conversations I was beginning to ask myself: are there really marriages that are this messed up? And I’m wondering how many women think they’re ding-bat idiots when in reality they’re just married to condescending gaslighting assholes?

I’m just glad I’ve never been asked to be a marriage counselor with any of these couples because that’s something I wouldn’t do except for the promise of a record-breaking tip ($100+).

Behind the Story – Writing For Attention

My dad once said to me writing was like a kid going up to his mom with a drawing and going, “Mama look it!” (translation: “Mama, look at what I did!”) And he was right because that’s what writing is if you share it with the world. Yet writing, like a child’s drawing, isn’t always received well. I think a lot of writers have a fear of their work being shredded or blown off if they share it so they keep it to themselves. It is an act of bravery and courage to share your writing with the world because you have to be prepared for the best, and the worst.

It’s not a fear of my writing being shredded that held me back for so long. It was a fear of having to deal with people accusing me of being an attention-seeking martyr-whore for putting my writing out into the world, and worse if I was successful, being accused of being a one-trick pony or that I really didn’t deserve my success. It’s why I kept my writing to myself for so long or presented it as a harmless little hobby instead of the grand passion that it’s always been for me.

Fear of success to my mind sounded stupid the first time I thought about it. But as I dug into it I realized it was a real fear. It was real to me because my fear was that any success I ever achieved would be used against me. Yes, I thought success would be used as a weapon to alienate me from people I cared about, such as my parents when they were both alive. I feared people telling my parents that my success would take me away from them forever (which it wouldn’t have at all). Why would people think like this is a question I don’t have an answer to, other than people are stupid as hell sometimes in addition to self-centered assholes who project their own bullshit onto innocent people.

But as I look back on my writing life, I realize I didn’t pursue so many opportunities because I feared any success would be used against me. I only told a few people I once got a short piece published in my local newspaper, and I told no one I could a story published in a national magazine (Playgirl- see story here). I also never talked about my rejection letters with too many people either other than fellow writers who understood what rejection meant.

Now I will admit that a lot of people really don’t understand writing or how it became such a grand passion for me. That’s for me to explain and no one else. Writing isn’t like a drug that I get a hit off of to get high because a lot of times it’s a slog through the muck of words to find the right ones that come together they way I want them to. Praise and compliments on my writing are awesome and always greatly appreciated but it’s not why I write though I’m sure there are people who feel that us writers are out chasing compliments to feed our fragile egos.

It’s not so much fear of success or failure that haunts me and I’m sure a lot of other people, but fear of having to deal with someone’s bullshit and falling for it. I know how vulnerable I was in the past and I know I still have that vulnerability in me though I just try to guard it better now. As my father used to say, assholes are mostly born that way and they usually don’t change either. If someone comes at you with falsehoods about you and your work, try to straighten them out. If that doesn’t work, tell them to take their shit-takes and shove up their asses. And most of all, top all that off with a resounding ‘fuck you’ and walk away.

I don’t think anyone will have the tits or the balls to come at me with shit like that anymore. I think I’ve made it very clear how I will respond to fake shit aimed to hurt me simply because someone is an insensitive asshole. But it’s been a long hard road to reach this point inside me where I can say this out loud in a place like this blog here. It’s not working through the pain and misery and the wounds themselves but working through the how and the why behind my feelings.

I will say this here: if you decide to share your writing with the world, you are seeking attention but on your own terms. I don’t believe most writers seek attention as an ego stroke unless they’re already raging egomaniacs to begin with. Most writers I know write to share their words with others to make a connection like they connected with other writers and their words. If someone doesn’t understand or believe that, that’s on them. It took me a long time to understand exactly why I write and why I want to share it publicly. I’m glad I figured it out and accepted my reasons as valid and worthy.

Luckily for me I haven’t had to deal with a lot of bullshit about my writing in a very long time. Now people tell me how well I write emotions in my work and how I can draw them into a story. That’s exactly what I want to do with my work and I’m so happy it’s well-received like that. My thanks to everyone who shares that connection with me. I’m forever grateful for that.

Stand or Fall: Rebellion of Hope

Rebellions are built on hope.”

Jyn Erso (played by Felicity Huffman from the movie ‘Star Wars: Rogue One’)

(screenplay by Chris Waltz and Tony Gilroy, Story by John Knoll and Gary Whitta, based on characters created by George Lucas)

In 2016 when I came up for the idea of this book, I didn’t know how things were going to turn out in the years since. I feel like we’ve had a lot of worst-case scenarios come to life, most recently with the overturn of the Roe vs. Wade Supreme Court decision, but I’ve also seen hope for a better future, most notably the Presidential Election of 2020. Now we’ve got the mid-term election coming up and it’s all coming down to the wire yet again. And my thinking has changed now from seeing this as a battle against fascist White Nationalism-Neo Nazism to rebellion not just against that shit, but also against hopelessness, fear, doubt, and people being a bunch of dumb-asses like they always are.

As I thought about the term ‘rebellion’ the line from the movie ‘Star Wars: Rogue One’ came to my mind. It’s one of my all-time favorite lines ever because to me it says so much. Because the question isn’t what are you rebelling against, but what are you rebelling for? What do you hope to accomplish with your rebellion?

Deep down inside of myself I’ve always felt like I’ve been rebellion against so many things. I feel like I’ve been rebelling against bullying, for being alienated and ostracized not just for being different, but for doing the right thing and making people project their shame and guilt onto me (which they can take and shove up their asses where it belongs). I feel I’ve been in rebellion against narrow-minded and insensitive hypocrisy with people shooting their mouths off about one thing but doing another, like right-wing pro-life assholes who get abortions for themselves or their daughters, or their mistresses.

I think it’s an act of rebellion to think at times, and to feel emotions, too. I think the appeal of right-wing fascism is that it doesn’t require a person to be original, or to be unique, and it gives them an ability to avoid having to do the difficult things of feeling like shit or feeling pain for those in need. I think it’s also because this right-wing bullshit means that as long as you toe the party line they won’t turn on you. But as someone who has taken shit all my life for things I didn’t do wrong, I saw through this at a very early age. The worst part of this is making things like compassion, empathy, and genuine kindness seem weak and worthless, and try to make people feel like shit for having those feelings and trying to live by them.

That scorn against compassion, empathy, and kindness to those in need is really turned me against right-wing conservatives in this country. The ‘fuck your feelings’ shit I heard in 2016 really exposed the cruelty behind fascism and how easy it was for people to embrace that. And the answer to why that is isn’t one I need an answer to because it’s not my fucking problem.

Instead, what my purpose is to not only live the life I want to in the way I want to, but to fight the rights of others to live freely, openly, and to make their own decisions without anyone else’s interference. At times, I think it’s a lot easier to get someone pissed off and outraged over something than to have them actually leave someone alone to live their own life. I think if right-wing conservatives quit worrying about other people’s lives that have nothing to do with theirs and aren’t hurting anyone else they’d be a lot happier. But it’s not happiness they’re after at all because deep-down the root of conservative ideology is that happiness is wrong unless it’s expressed or lived within very strict confines.

I want people to be happy and healthy. I want to live on a planet that’s healthy and life-sustaining. And I don’t believe suffering is noble but something to be alleviated as much as humanly possible.

My book ‘Stand or Fall’ has been in a constant state of evolution since I started the project six years ago. It’s a hybrid of memoire and history but also commentary on the past and present, too. It’s not just me asking the questions of why things happened, but how we can learn from the past. Because I will tell anyone I can, you don’t have to do the same shit you did before simply because you did it before. You can change the future by making different decisions in the present. And if someone doesn’t like that they can that opinion and shove it up their ass where it belongs.

Breaking Radio Silence – Mistakes

One of the biggest issues I’ve been trying to deal with in writing this book (‘Breaking Radio Silence’) is trying not to come off like I’m totally perfect and I did nothing wrong and all that bullshit. I don’t want to come off as holier-than-thou and woe-is-me, too so I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of ways not to do that when a thought came to my mind: where were my mistakes made?

Recently, I’ve begun to ask myself where mistakes were made in my past. I’ve been looking back at decisions I made and trying to think through them. As I’ve been doing that, the question of whether or not a mistake was made came to my mind. Now of course hindsight is always 20/20 as the old saying goes so looking back isn’t easy because of it. Looking back means I know how my decision played out and I don’t know how my other decision would have played out at the same time. Most of all, I realize I made a lot of decisions out of fear, pain, and for other people more than myself. And that I really didn’t take the time, or I didn’t have the time to think things through before decisions were made.

One example of this that came to my mind recently was the decision twenty-seven years ago this August to sacrifice a lot of my own life to help care for my mother because I knew she was going to die of cancer. I made a decision back then not to talk to anyone about my decision or that God-awful moment of clarity I had because my words would have been torn to shreds. Maybe not right away but it would have happened because no one would have truly understood the magnitude of what I was trying to deal with back then. And a lot of people when confronted with something they don’t have any idea of or any knowledge of tend to react badly to people who are carrying around that knowledge. Also, sacrifice is not an accepted way of dealing with things despite being told sacrifice is noble and good as I found out back then, too. I think I made the right decision to keep all that to myself and try to deal with it on my own just because I don’t think anyone else was ready to deal with it.

Another decision I’ve looked back on is not pursuing more of a social life and building friendships. That was a mistake that I won’t make again. At the time, my rationale was that I felt like people would have mouthed off even more to my parents and tried to convince my parents that if I developed any kind of a social life I would abandon them. I knew my parents were already taking shit for me living at home and pursuing my writing so I didn’t want to add to that. The mistake was not believing my parents would have stood up for me even more than they did and that I also had the right to stand up for myself too and tell a few people to fuck themselves to Hell and back. I think if my parents and I had stood up and done that I think a lot of people would have slunk off with shit in their pants because my parents and I would have called their bluff. That decision was also a mistake because it kept me from potentially finding people who could have provided the comfort and support I desperately needed back then, too. Again, I won’t make that mistake in the future.

At the time any decision is made, no one knows how it will work out. I know I can overthink something to within an inch of its life and things can still go sideways and down a mountainside. I look back on those decisions in my mind and I can say I could have made a different decision and let things go sideways all to hell and still survived it. But in the end, I made the decision I did and I’ve with the results since then, too. That doesn’t mean I can’t learn from the decision and I’m beginning to think the word ‘mistake’ doesn’t really apply here either. I say that because I made the decision at that time based on what I knew and what I felt.

This is why the phrase ‘everyone else is just as full of shit as I am but that doesn’t mean I’m a bad person’ changed my life so much. It was admitting I wasn’t perfect but that no one else is either even if they say they are or act like their shit doesn’t stink at all, too. As the concept behind the book ‘Breaking Radio Silence’ has evolved and continues to do so, I realize it’s a book of lessons learned. I’ve begun to learn you don’t have to do things like you did before just because you did, or because you think people won’t take it well if you do things differently. If someone doesn’t like the direction I take with my life, that’s on them and as long as they keep that shit to themselves and don’t get in my face about it, we’ll get along with just fine. And yes, that does include me going at it alone.

I’ve heard that we learn more from failures than we do successes. And that is true because success just teaches you that something works. Failure teaches you what doesn’t work and why that is then gives you the knowledge to move forward in a different direction. And sometimes a mistake is subject to interpretation.

Eyes on Me

One of the most complicated things I’ve had to work with over the last six years is the feeling that I’ve been under watch by other people just waiting for me to step out of line or do something they don’t want me to do. The origin of this dates back to my twenties when I lived at home while my mom was sick and dying of cancer and my parents took a considerable amount of flack from people because they let me live at home rent-free and pursue my writing. I felt like people were just waiting for me to do something that would have them running to my parents telling them I was going to abandon them. I felt like I couldn’t do ‘normal’ things like go out and have some kind of social life. Looking back I know my parents would have slammed that shit down pretty hard but back then I didn’t want them to have to do any more than what they were doing already so I sacrificed my own life to keep that from happening. The problem was that made me feel like I was constantly being watched when in reality, no one really gave a shit about me doing something unless it kept me from being at someone’s beck-and-call twenty-four-seven.

If that sounds harsh or cold or stupid to anyone reading that, so be it. Back then it was very real to me and it’s taken me a long time to work through this crap because I feel like I’ve been lying in wait for someone to mouth at me for writing or doing anything else. That hasn’t happened and I honestly don’t think it will because I think my response would be, “Really? That’s the best you can do? The same old shit I’ve been dealing with all my life?” A tiny part of me is itching for an opportunity to go off like that but in reality that would be a waste of time. Yet the reason it still gnawed me after all this time was simple: I was afraid of and didn’t want to deal with accompanying bullshit of having negative attention on me.

Back then I didn’t want any attention on me because I was afraid of any negative response. I was afraid to be told I was a martyr, selfish, stupid, or some other bullshit. This in turn led me to feel like I wasn’t worthy of handling any attention on myself or my work. I know when I put my writing and other creative endeavors out into the world that I am seeking attention. But now I realize I’m seeking attention on my own terms for myself. And I can handle whatever I get in return, from silence, to flat-out dumb-ass bullshit, or the good stuff, too.

I don’t put out my words like this or anything else to be seen as a genius, or a martyr, or to feed an ego because I don’t have one of those. I put my words out into the world to connect with people. And narrow-minded selfish assholes will never understand this so I’m not going to think about them anymore. I can’t control how anyone thinks or feels, nor can I pull someone’s head out of their ass for them.

It’s the connection I’m after here. Writing and other creative endeavors are pretty lonely to pursue unless you work in a collaborative medium. I don’t work in a collaborative medium so it’s just me and my laptop here. But I don’t believe like a few narrow-minded assholes in this world do that the only connections people can make are in person. That’s not true at all. I believe connections can be made in an infinite number of ways.

I’ve known some of my online friends for over two decades, most of whom I’ve never met in person. But through our online interactions, I have felt more care and support and friendship in those words online than I have from people I’ve had physically in my life. Words have power and meaning, and they can also transcend any medium to reach people. I’m not anti-social and I actually like interacting with people in person. But I also believe I can connect with people online or through people reading my writing.

So yes I’m seeking attention here but on my terms. I’m defining my interactions here and in real life by how I socialize with people. I’m not going to live my life in fear that someone isn’t going to like what I say or do, or that someone may feel like they have the right to dictate my life and my choices. I’m a grown-ass adult as the younger generation says though in reality I’m just a slightly-pissed off and somewhat tired middle-aged bitch. I’m not perfect but neither is anyone else even if they say otherwise.

Yes, this is me seeking attention. If someone has a problem with it, they’re free to find their tits or balls and come talk to me about it. Just as I’m free to respond in any way I choose to. But I know most narrow-minded assholes don’t have the tits or the balls to come at a me because I’m just going to tell them I’ve heard all their shit before and I’m still here. And no, I don’t need to say living is the best revenge or being happy is the best revenge either.

I want to thank everyone who has been supportive and encouraging to me, and everyone who has ever been kind and supportive of me. I cherish every single bit of those good things and I hope I’ve been good to you in return.