Ich Bin Ein Uber Fahren
Ich bin ein uber fahren. No, not making a political statement, though I did take German in junior high school, much to the horror of my parents.
No, it translates to "I am an Uber driver." That was made clear to me yesterday when I picked up a rail-thin workout instructor at a client and when I asked her the best way to her destination as the app is not always right, she put up the "one minute" index finger to me and said, into her fone, "One sec.. My 'driver' is asking me a question."
Once she got up off the pavement and dusted herself off..just kidding. You put lipstick on a pig, it's still a pig or in this case, a driver is a driver. Sure, we're people too, but often, people remind us of what we are when we meet them.
I call ourselves the invisibles. We are the bus help, the barista, the train conductor, the grocery bagger or check out clerk, the DMV lady and yes...the Uber Driver. People see us in a certain light as they want to and I truly believe it's rude and shows a lack of character. Why? Everyone deserves respect. Not everyone deserves my cordial witticisms in my car but none of the people I mention above are servants. People turn their heads when they see special needs adults-I'm talking grownup special needs adults. It's uncomfortable to them. The world through rose-colored glasses is a mighty safe place to view society. Anyway, it was a reality check but as I once told someone's son, if you want to be a mechanic and not go to college, be the best mechanic you can be.
Today was a long day because I wanted it to be. At 5:30am, I got a call from a lovely 50's couple going to the airport.They were surprised someone answered their Uber request since my general neighborhood is far north of where most of the population lives. We like it that way.
Uneventful. Small talk. After all, it WAS 5:30 in the morning.
There was no one coming in that early so I headed home for an 8AM conference call (sssh. I'm still doing SOME business).
After that and a very exciting and promising phone call with Facebook execs in Washington about The Sarah Grace-Farley-Kluger Act, I headed up to my local Starbucks.
No sooner did I order a Trenta Passion Tea, my phone vibrated. I soon picked up a very senior executive at a very well-known tech company (sorry..anonymity is how I keep those enormous tips-and I'm saving it for the book) and headed BACK to the airport. I told him I was retired. When he asked what I did, well..as Michael Corleone said: "once you think you're out, they pull you back in!" He knew several of the execs I referred to as friends either personally or through reputation and we talked business.Not show business. BUSINESS. M&A's, IPOS, TECHNOLOGY. I wanted to say: 'hey.let's pick up that trainer from yesterday and tell her I'm not her 'driver.'
Here's the reality. We are often searching ourselves for new opportunities and sometimes identities. We have seen companies define who we are, not our values or standards. A man looks into the abyss and..whoa..wait a second. That's Bud Fox nailed on stock fraud. Wrong reference.
We see ourselves at certain ages in our lives. We sometimes wake up at 3am and had a bad dream we did not graduate college. Ok..I have that one.
What I'm saying is we constantly test ourselves to see if we have lived a life and/or career that we are happy with. I realized, for me, the answer is yes. I miss Erica but with all of life's uncertainties and tragedies, I'm ok being a driver.
So, after the big exec, I had an airport local pickup to Tempe and headed home. On the way, I got a ping from a 20 year old kid, on his way to look at a new apartment. He was raised here but moved to LA after HS and lived in North Hollywood. And he was back. He said : "I was 18.I knew it all. I guess I didn't." I liked this kid. He had a girlfriend, was living at his grandmother's house in Scottsdale and was really chatty. Finding oneself after high school is another kind of reality check.He had his head screwed on right.
Just two blocks away, I got a call for a pickup in an apartment complex, one of the older Scottsdale places, not the fancy high rises. remember when I said last week that we should not judge a book by its cover? Well, I did..again. A beautiful Latina woman came out, on her way to the airport. We spoke politics, where she was born(Mexico then moved to the Midwest) and it turned out she is a pre-school teacher at one of the most respected synagogues in the Phoenix area, if not the state. We talked special needs kids and education in general. I bragged about my wife.I always do. I was guilty of a stereotype in some form and I am ashamed of it. It was a fare to me and someone who deserved courtesy and respect as I did, but I did make a premature impression. I promise to try not to do that again.
Leaving the airport, I had thought I'd get a pickup back North to where I lived. No such luck. I got Happy Gilmore from the nearby medical marijuana dispensary and when I got there, he WAS in a leg brace and crutches so he DID seem to have a purpose being there. he was recovering from surgery and was in a very good mood. What a surprise. But he was a professional in the healthcare field and seemed responsible. Seriously. he talked about the opioid crises and his support of marijuana. he could have espoused and have access to methadone, morphine etc but he made a strong case. His dad died in 2009 of liver failure due to drinking. He stopped in 1999 and planned to stop the marijuana meds after he began physical therapy. Call me trusting, but I kind of believed him. He asked if I smoked.I said 'not since Carly and James got married in New York. (1972 for the uninitiated). He said well, if you want, I can give you some edibles for people you know who do get high. I said "thanks," but I offered to help him into the house, crutches and all.
So, what did I learn today? You can enjoy a fine red wine with shrimp and linguini despite what the experts say.Off to make dinner.
No, it translates to "I am an Uber driver." That was made clear to me yesterday when I picked up a rail-thin workout instructor at a client and when I asked her the best way to her destination as the app is not always right, she put up the "one minute" index finger to me and said, into her fone, "One sec.. My 'driver' is asking me a question."
Once she got up off the pavement and dusted herself off..just kidding. You put lipstick on a pig, it's still a pig or in this case, a driver is a driver. Sure, we're people too, but often, people remind us of what we are when we meet them.
I call ourselves the invisibles. We are the bus help, the barista, the train conductor, the grocery bagger or check out clerk, the DMV lady and yes...the Uber Driver. People see us in a certain light as they want to and I truly believe it's rude and shows a lack of character. Why? Everyone deserves respect. Not everyone deserves my cordial witticisms in my car but none of the people I mention above are servants. People turn their heads when they see special needs adults-I'm talking grownup special needs adults. It's uncomfortable to them. The world through rose-colored glasses is a mighty safe place to view society. Anyway, it was a reality check but as I once told someone's son, if you want to be a mechanic and not go to college, be the best mechanic you can be.
Today was a long day because I wanted it to be. At 5:30am, I got a call from a lovely 50's couple going to the airport.They were surprised someone answered their Uber request since my general neighborhood is far north of where most of the population lives. We like it that way.
Uneventful. Small talk. After all, it WAS 5:30 in the morning.
There was no one coming in that early so I headed home for an 8AM conference call (sssh. I'm still doing SOME business).
After that and a very exciting and promising phone call with Facebook execs in Washington about The Sarah Grace-Farley-Kluger Act, I headed up to my local Starbucks.
No sooner did I order a Trenta Passion Tea, my phone vibrated. I soon picked up a very senior executive at a very well-known tech company (sorry..anonymity is how I keep those enormous tips-and I'm saving it for the book) and headed BACK to the airport. I told him I was retired. When he asked what I did, well..as Michael Corleone said: "once you think you're out, they pull you back in!" He knew several of the execs I referred to as friends either personally or through reputation and we talked business.Not show business. BUSINESS. M&A's, IPOS, TECHNOLOGY. I wanted to say: 'hey.let's pick up that trainer from yesterday and tell her I'm not her 'driver.'
Here's the reality. We are often searching ourselves for new opportunities and sometimes identities. We have seen companies define who we are, not our values or standards. A man looks into the abyss and..whoa..wait a second. That's Bud Fox nailed on stock fraud. Wrong reference.
We see ourselves at certain ages in our lives. We sometimes wake up at 3am and had a bad dream we did not graduate college. Ok..I have that one.
What I'm saying is we constantly test ourselves to see if we have lived a life and/or career that we are happy with. I realized, for me, the answer is yes. I miss Erica but with all of life's uncertainties and tragedies, I'm ok being a driver.
So, after the big exec, I had an airport local pickup to Tempe and headed home. On the way, I got a ping from a 20 year old kid, on his way to look at a new apartment. He was raised here but moved to LA after HS and lived in North Hollywood. And he was back. He said : "I was 18.I knew it all. I guess I didn't." I liked this kid. He had a girlfriend, was living at his grandmother's house in Scottsdale and was really chatty. Finding oneself after high school is another kind of reality check.He had his head screwed on right.
Just two blocks away, I got a call for a pickup in an apartment complex, one of the older Scottsdale places, not the fancy high rises. remember when I said last week that we should not judge a book by its cover? Well, I did..again. A beautiful Latina woman came out, on her way to the airport. We spoke politics, where she was born(Mexico then moved to the Midwest) and it turned out she is a pre-school teacher at one of the most respected synagogues in the Phoenix area, if not the state. We talked special needs kids and education in general. I bragged about my wife.I always do. I was guilty of a stereotype in some form and I am ashamed of it. It was a fare to me and someone who deserved courtesy and respect as I did, but I did make a premature impression. I promise to try not to do that again.
Leaving the airport, I had thought I'd get a pickup back North to where I lived. No such luck. I got Happy Gilmore from the nearby medical marijuana dispensary and when I got there, he WAS in a leg brace and crutches so he DID seem to have a purpose being there. he was recovering from surgery and was in a very good mood. What a surprise. But he was a professional in the healthcare field and seemed responsible. Seriously. he talked about the opioid crises and his support of marijuana. he could have espoused and have access to methadone, morphine etc but he made a strong case. His dad died in 2009 of liver failure due to drinking. He stopped in 1999 and planned to stop the marijuana meds after he began physical therapy. Call me trusting, but I kind of believed him. He asked if I smoked.I said 'not since Carly and James got married in New York. (1972 for the uninitiated). He said well, if you want, I can give you some edibles for people you know who do get high. I said "thanks," but I offered to help him into the house, crutches and all.
So, what did I learn today? You can enjoy a fine red wine with shrimp and linguini despite what the experts say.Off to make dinner.
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