Cablog

Only the Irish

These holy clowns were the highlight of an ordinary night. Or rather, just visually different. The best visual of the night was the image of a small girl playing on a large BMW motorbike in Bourke Street, Surry Hills, watched over by a guy who looked like Russell Crowe. However the shot is too grainy to post. Anyway, these Irish jokestas were off to Dirty Nellies, a pub in Paddo. I carted four bishops and a second cab carried the nuns. I had them bless the cab, just for the hell of it.

Working class hero ?

Here's a story from earlier this month by a UK paper over the Latham cabbie bashing,

Three years ago, Bachir Mustafa, a Sydney taxi driver, had his arm broken by Mark Latham in a dispute over a £15 fare. Mr Mustafa, 36, has not driven his cab since and, because of post-operative complications, he has lost some of the use of his right arm.

Has Latham issued an apology to Mustafa ? A driver who was entirely blameless in following the taxi regulations, which stipulate he must take the most direct route to Latham's destination. Now Latham thinks it's all a big joke, despite the injuries to a battler, whose cause he pretends to champion,

Mr Latham did not suffer politically when news of the altercation leaked out. Indeed, it made him better known and seemed to burnish his image as a tough, working-class boy from western Sydney. Reminded of the incident by a colleague, Mr Latham laughed and said: "Now the taxi drivers call me Sir."

You won't be getting 'Sir' from me Latham, but rather 'Shithead', 'Loser' and 'Well known has-been'.

Drinkers and lovers

Early last night I picked up a fella in the hotel industry, going home to Vaucluse. I grilled him on the previous night’s tale of a $25 glass of champagne at the Wine Banc in the City. He confirmed it was entirely possible if it was champagne of the Veuve Clicquot class. Indeed, only a few blocks away at the Stock Exchange coffee shop - from memory called The Bourse - one can buy a $12 cup of coffee. And that was the price of a few years ago !

My passenger related how down at Woolloomooloo, visiting US sailors pay over $100 for a glass of Penfolds Grange Hermitage red wine. A drop from the early nineties heritage. He himself owned a couple of cases of Grange, not because he was necessarily a fan, but purely as an investment. ‘Don’t get me wrong’, he said, ‘it’s a good wine, but shit, way overpriced. There’s plenty of other Aussie reds just as good, for a fraction of the price’.

Delusion and inspiration

If I crossed the Bridge once last night I must have crossed it a hundred times. It was that sort of night. On one rare return with a fare, the passenger complained when stopping for the toll booth, ‘Haven’t you got an E-Tag ?’. ‘Nah sorry mate, the owners won’t install them', I said, 'Due to monthly invoices, it’s too hard to chase up transient drivers for outstanding tolls.’

For example, I paid around $30 last night in Bridge tolls. ‘Well, that’s why I always try ‘n get a Silver Service cab’, he whined. ‘They all have E-Tags’. This annoyed me, ‘Mate, sometimes you’ve got to take whatever cab you can get’, I snapped, ‘life’s not perfect’. I mean, he was bitching over 20 seconds and 20 cents, for God’s sake. And after hours, on his way to a Darling Harbour bar ! Give me a break...

On air update

Just received a call in the cab - interview rescheduled for next Wednesday, same time, same station.

On air

If anyone's interested, I've just received a late request to appear on radio station 2GB - 873 AM tonight at 7.35pm. I believe it's a 15 minute segment on the Murray Wilton Show called Behind the Mike. That's the plan anyway, depending on what happens in the cab. Stand by...

Of jazz and hope

An older couple emerged from The Basement, a jazz club in the financial heart of the City, and headed for my cab. The bloke, shuffling and dishevelled, was supported by an attractive woman in her fifties and somewhat younger than he. He looks smashed. I groaned as she helped him into the front seat, as if offloading him onto me.

To my relief she climbed in the back and ordered the upmarket suburb of Mosman. Her husband wasn’t drunk but rather suffering from a debilitating back injury. To compound his misery they were leaving the club early, bitterly disappointed with the evening. They had paid $70 each for dinner and a show by one the world’s best jazz trumpet players, James Morrison...

A crap night

Last night was crap. Crap weather and crap money. It produced only one decent image and two interesting customers. With heavy rain from late afternoon into the evening, folks did the only sensible thing and stayed home ahead of the working week.

This is an image of the early morning steam cleaning operation outside McDonalds in Park Street. Literally cleaning the scum off the footpath. Despite the loud, high pitched whirring of the truck-mounted compressor, the operator appears to be hovering on clouds as he applies hot steam from the high pressure hose.

Ms Directed

My first shift back from holidays was a relatively quiet Saturday evening dominated by single women asserting themselves.

Around 9 pm I spotted these two bikes in the City at traffic lights. I had seen them early in the afternoon at Strathfield, with just the riders carrying spare helmets, off to pick up girlfriends I figured.

As I pulled into Harry’s Café de Wheels at Woolloomooloo for a cabbies dinner, I noticed a large group of young women milling about. They all wore straw cowboy hats and were dressed for clubbing. Such a gathering signified a hen’s night and is a very common sight around town on a Saturday night...

A NOTE : It's great to work on the PC again, with text wrapping around images. Images which can be enlarged, as against those sent by Moblog.

Home

Home again. I left in drought and bushfires only to return from torrential rain and flooding. Sweet, glorious rain. Rain so heavy I was forced off the road a couple of times. Rarely has this happened in all my years of touring. But even better was the chance to catch some old friends here and there. To those who provided me shelter, thanks again for your hospitality and generosity. To those I missed, maybe next time as weather and circumstance conspired to wreck the best laid plans...