Another (true) Times Square Story

Heading home after work --near corner of  49th St. and Ave. of the Americas.  I hear loud shouting.  Voice sounds middle eastern. Israeli? Look around and see Cab driver leaning out his window shouting at Food Vendor guy who's towing his stand in  the street in front of him.  Seems like Cabbie is annoyed that the vendor is going so slowly (unavoidable considering vendor is pushing a half ton kitchen on wheels) and delaying his progress.

After a few moments, it's apparent that the Cabbie isn't so much angry as he is simply voluble and high spirited.  His barking sounds more like a stand-up comic trying to get laughs than a trouble maker itching for a fight.   He's sprinkling in some digs at the vendor's culinary skills and menu items and warning passing pedestrians. "Don't eat his meat!  He calls it lamb but how do you know it's lamb?  It could be dog or cat or mouse or rat..."  Meantime, however, in the back seat of his cab is a young woman with a look of rising horror on her face as she seems confused about what's happening and distressed by her driver's rant.  She opens the door of the idling cab to escape this madman ...and when the Cabbie realizes this, he gets out too and starts shouting at her to get back in the cab.  Now she really wants no part of this guy, but he's determined to get her back in the cab. 

He's yelling " Get back in."
She's yelling " You're crazy."  

He's yelling " What do you mean crazy?  How am I crazy?"
She begins looking around in search of someone who might be of assistance...and that would be me.  So I walk up to her and try to reassure her that she isn't in any danger, but now the Cabbie starts in on me. 

"What?  What do you want?  What is wrong here?  Tell her to get back in, listen to me, the meter is running". 

And the other cars are now honking at all of us. 

"He's crazy" she says.  " I'm not getting back in...and I'm not paying him". 

Uh oh...that's not what the Cabbie wants to hear at this point. 

" You're not going to pay?  No?  Then tell me, who is going to pay?  Him? (pointing to me)  He's going to pay?"

I'm not sure she heard this because while he was ranting at me she was walking and was now  half a block away trying to hail another cab. Meanwhile, the Don Rickles of  the Gaza Strip is demanding money from me since it's clear to him that had I not interfered he'd have his fare back.  He's full of bluster and he's yelling (but he's not on the verge of violence or threatening --and he still appears to be enjoying all of this as if it's just the thing he needed to break up the monotony of his day) and I'm kinda smiling at him as if to show that I understand his frustration while at the same time hoping to make it clear that I'm not about to fork over any cash.  He's attracted about a dozen audience members by now--and they all seem to be enjoying the show too--and he takes this as his cue to pull out his best material.  He's telling them the whole story from the beginning, he's yelling at the cars that are honking at his cab still idling in the street, he's yelling at me and asking the crowd to vote on whether I should pay him the fare, he's even questioning my character as a Jew ( he had earlier asked me in the middle of all the brouhaha: "You Jewish?" to which I had either said yes or just nodded).  So I am now not a very good jew.  "If you were a good jew you would take responsibility--you would pay me the money after chasing away my customer...but you are not a good jew, you are a selfish jew...and you do not care about what is right and what is wrong"  The audience of a dozen has now grown by half and our cabbie comic is killin! The crowd is lovin this guy. And he's riffing away on topics ranging from the stupidity of eating food from sidewalk vendors, to the idiocy of " Bus Only" and "Bike Only" lanes.  So I just kinda let him have the spotlight, catch a few more of his zingers and I exit stage left in the direction of Grand Central Station with the sound of his manic voice and murmur of his growing and happy audience fading behind me. 

Sendak still on my mind. And recalling back in ‘93 when he graciously submitted to the agony of having to answer my inane questions designed to satisfy his defensive and anxious publisher.  I don’t remember many of the specifics, but I remember how often he simply dismissed certain questions with multiple variations on the theme : “Because some people are idiots.”

And if you want to see him calling out a few idiots by name, check out link below. I like Stephen Colbert, but I can’t watch more than a few minutes of his shtick without losing patience and interest…and it gets pretty annoying here too, but Sendak makes it worth sticking it out.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/08/maurice-sendak-stephen-colbert-report-interview-video_n_1500417.html

What Sendak knew:

Children  know the world is scary—so why bother hiding it from them. 

(In a previous post I quoted G.K. Chesterton: "Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed." )

Children are not ashamed of their bodies.

Children are not  busy forming opinions, they’re collecting data.

Children naturally recognize direct evidence and ignore hearsay

Children play make believe, and (unlike adults) know that it’s make believe.

Children see the facts of life as just other facts of life. 

Children have lots of ideas and no ideologies.

Children don’t distinguish between work, learning and fun.

Exploring the world of proverbs and idioms and no surprise that so many good ones come from the American South:

Well that just dills my pickle!

He couldn’t carry a tune if it was in bucket.

Don’t you piss on my leg and tell me it’s rainin’!

You’re lyin’ like a no-legged dog!

more slippery than snot on a doorknob.

He’s about as handy as a back pocket on a shirt.

If brains were leather, he couldn’t saddle a junebug.


And...Hey Karen M...if you're reading this, I hope you're feeling better.  Thinking of you and wishing you the best...with love.