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27 June
Sweatin' To The Oldies: Indians! Indians! (No, not those kinds of Indians) PS - Man Who Stand on Toilet High on Pot (AKA 68 Blues)
"Certain Things Catch Your Eye
But Pursue Only Those That
Capture Your Heart"
- Old Indian Saying
"I Have Seen in Any Great Undertaking -
It is Not Enough For a Man to Depend
Simply Upon Himself"
- Lone Man (Teton Sioux)
"How Smooth Must Be The Language of the Whites
When They Can Make Right Look like Wrong
And Wrong like Right."
- Black Hawk (Sauk)
************************************
I got a call at 3 AM from Chief Jay Strongbow up on the Reservation.
"Longcipher, I heard the news!" He shouted.
"What - who - Chief Jay, is that you?"
"You must come to see me, up on ________________ Reservation immediately... You must come to the sweat lodge at once."
"...I'm on this herbal program, it lasts for a week... I bought it at the vitamin shop around the corner -"
"Dark Cloud and Skipping Stone will be there soon... Just relax."
And with that he hung up, and I fell back asleep, only to be awakened at 5 AM by thunderous rapping at my door. I was jolted out of bed.
"What's wrong?!" I shouted, rushing to the front door.
I could hear a voice, it was Dark Cloud's.
I opened the door.
Dark Cloud and another Indian grabbed me and began guiding me toward the stairs.
"Let me get dressed," I pleaded.
They continued dragging me down the stairs.
They shoved me into a dirty old pickup truck and got on the highway heading North.
************************************************
We arrived at the _________________ Reservation by 7AM.
Chief Jay Strongbow's daughter, Ixkin, led me directly to the sweat lodge, where Chief Jay and the Medicine Man were.
It was only the three of us inside the tent, and the Medicine Man was chanting as I entered. The heat was certainly hot yet I didn't want to run outside, either. I was instructed to sit down, which I did, ahem, Indian style, and closed my eyes. The sweat began pouring down my face immediately.
Chief Jay;
"Oh suspicious substances inside Almighty Longcipher, we ask that you exit his temple here and now... We ask with humility and kindness that you leave his system and instead join us inside this tent right now... Come out and sing with us... Aaaah-oooh-jahh-key-toh-no-tee-hay-ohhhhhh..."
And on and on he sang and chanted, along with the Medicine Man...
I began to drift into another consciousness; I had visions.
I saw Mister Softee scouring the used CD bins at Goodwill.
I saw eleven tigers pounce a jackal.
I saw the face of Sleep and the shadow of Fear and felt the blood of Reality drip down my forehead.
I saw Peter Fonda knowing what it's like to be dead.
*************************************
I was pronounced "clean," and the "suspicious substances" were detained by the Medicine Man.
**************************************
I thanked Chief Jay Strongbow for his help, and he placed a necklace around my head. There was an amulet attached to it, it had a funny smell.
"What's inside?" I asked him, while holding it to my nose, smelling it again.
"Tannis root," he responded.
"Tannis root? But isn't that -"
"Wear it until you go to the lab to take your drug test. Then remove it at once, burn it in your kitchen sink, and as you do so place rose petals on the flames."
"Rose petals?"
He placed hands on my shoulders.
"Longcipher... You are clean... But you still need great protection..."
"Whatever you say, Chief Jay."
I got into the pickup, and Dark Cloud drove me back to Manhattan.
***************************************
As we came down The Joe Dimaggio Highway I turned to Dark Cloud and gestured at the city and said, "To think Whitey bought this off you for $24..."
I shook my head.
Dark Cloud just glared at me.
"Longcipher... You say things to get a rise out of people. But that which you raise must come down."
The light was red. He looked at me with sharp eyes.
"Dark Cloud... You got your name from being a dark, pessimistic motherfucker. Don't tell me how to maneuver through life, okay? You're gonna gimmie that 'ol Indian schtick??"
He put his hands up.
"Longcipher, an 800 pound walrus sits where it wants to sit."
"Yeah? Well a 165 pound Longcipher says 'shut the fuck up."
*************************************************
That night I went to the _________________ taxi school in L.I.C. to take the Practice Test. I paid $25 in cash and went upstairs to the test room.
There was maybe eighty people there, at $25 a head - a pretty penny they make over at ________________ taxi school, in L.I.C.
The exam itself didn't seem so hard. There was a language part, where we listened to a recording of people asking to be taken to certain directions, and then you write that down. They want to know that you can both understand and write English.
There was a map section, and 50 questions, multiple choice.
I finished, handed it in, where it was instantly graded. One of the monitors called me back up after two minutes.
He handed me back my test - a 68 was written on it.
70 is passing. 68 is not.
"Not quite there, man," said the monitor.
"Goddammit. I was gonna take the exam tomorrow," I said.
"Here's what you got wrong," he then handed me a sheet - "and here's the right answer's."
I sat down and made a note of each missed question.
**************************************
Downstairs I spoke to a teacher at the school, an Indian guy who wanted this all to appear more difficult than it is. I could smell it.
"There are 35 different versions of the test. They bring two versions. Some are difficult. And some... One we call the "crazy test," because anyone can pass it... It's crazy."
"So what do you think? If I got a 68 on my Practice Test, should I bother trying to come in tomorrow and take the test?"
"It's up to you, but remember; if you fail, you'll have to wait two weeks to take the test again. And you only get one more shot if you fail."
"Unless I do the whole damn process all over again."
"You wanna do that?" he said, and walked away.
****************************************
The exam is Friday.
06/27/08
****************************************
Edvard Longcipher likes women who are into Amyl Nitrate.
25 June
Well What Did You Do Today? The Real Life Story of Edvard Longcipher (or, how I learned to stop worrying and love not working for a living)
"Well I've Been Awake For
Eight Days Straight
It Must Have Been Those Pills I Took
I Been Twitchin' an Turnin' an Seein' Visions
It Must Have Been Those Pills I Took
Well I Don't Know Where I Got 'Em,
But They Sure Did Make Me Feel Good
They Kept My Heart From Feelin' Blue
An' Kept My Thoughts Away From You"
- "Pills I Took" by Hank Williams III
***********************************
I had begun taking that weeklong body flush program, and it went like this;
I wake up, I immediately drink a large glass of water, then immediately drink another glass while washing down a "morning" pill (filled with herbal remedy), then a third glass with a powder added to it. I repeat the process at night with a "night" pill, and all day long I'm drinking water constantly.
This way I would be able to take the urine test next week, maybe the week after that. I'll give myself time to clean out, and first I'll be taking the written test, anyway.
The woman at the TLC had told me many people take the written test before the drug test.
"The lab costs are $25, and you have to pay for that. Some people like to take the test first, because if they fail, why should they have paid $25 for a drug test?"
Sounded right to me.
**************************************
The TLC exam was Friday, and there was a Practice Test held at the ________________ taxi school in L.I.C. every __________ night, so I'll do that as well to get an idea of what the test will look like.
The results of the exam are given out the following Wednesday, only at the school where you took the test.
You have to go back to the school on Wednesday (after 1 pm) and they tell you then and there if you passed or failed.
Don't bother to phone in, they will not tell you over the phone, and they will not mail you the results.
If you pass, your Hack License will be mailed to you (assuming you've passed the drug test) "within 15 days," and you are eligible to start driving a cab.
Should you fail the written test, you are able to take it again, but you must wait two weeks, and should you fail the second time, you cannot take it a third time.
If you fail twice, and want to keep at it, you would have to start the entire process all over again. Apply to the TLC again, do the classes again, all of the fees, etc - all over again...
*************************************
I was determined to get this thing right the first time.
*************************************
Brant Miles phoned me:
BRANT: Hey. Just wanted to say sorry for pushing you into the Doritos at the Walrus Bash.
LONGCIPHER: Fuck it. It's over. How's it goin?
BRANT: I got a new blog at Walrus.
LONGCIPHER: Oh yeah?
BRANT: Yeah. It's called 'WTF.'
(LONGCIPHER HEARS THE CALL WAITING BEEP).
LONGCIPHER: Hey Miles, hang on a second -
(LONGCIPHER CLICKS OVER TO OTHER CALL)
LONGCIPHER: Hello?
THE HERMIT: You wanna go vinyl shopping?
LONGCIPHER: How is it possible The Hermit is always getting me out of the house? Hang on, I got Brant Miles on the other line.
THE HERMIT: Get rid of him.
LONGCIPHER: I will. Hang on.
(LONGCIPHER CLICKS BACK TO BRANT MILES)
LONGCIPHER: Miles? You still there?
BRANT: Yeah, I'm here.
LONGCIPHER: Listen, that's my Mom, I gotta go.
BRANT: Doesn't your mom live in _____________?
LONGCIPHER: Yes. Okay, so, thanks for calling. See ya at HQ.
(LONGCIPHER CLICKS BACK TO THE HERMIT)
LONGCIPHER: Hello?
THE HERMIT: So are we going or what?
LONGCIPHER: You wanna meet down there?
THE HERMIT: We'll meet at Astor Place.
LONGCIPHER: Where's ___________? (Author of Catch-22's)
THE HERMIT: I'll find him.
CLICK.
************************************************
45 minutes later I was walking along East Twelfth Street with The Hermit and ___________.
"So George Carlin," said _____________.
"Sucks," said The Hermit.
"Yeah," I offered.
We walked along in the heat, The Hermit's beard blowing in the wind.
"You think Pink Floyd is better than The Who?" asked The Hermit to no one in particular.
"No," said I, immediately.
"You don't like Pink Floyd," remembered ____________.
"I like 'em - But I love The Who," I continued. "Although Dark Side beats Tommy any day. So there you go."
We walked casually, crossing Avenue A.
"Mike Myers - relevant or irrelevant?" posed _____________.
"Irrelevant," said The Hermit and I simultaneously.
"How about Adam Sandler..."
**********************************
And on and on we walked and talked and eventually went vinyl shopping. I found some Dexter Gordon, Hermit found a Harry Nilsson, ____________ made fun of a guy who looked like David Berkowitz.
Later we went to the Ritz Diner and knocked back coffees, talking about black holes, Sunday mornings, women, politics, film, music, l' raisonner pour l'existence...
*******************************************
Edvard Longcipher drinks your milkshake.
24 June
Brew Crew 4, Atlanta 1 (or, how I learned to stop worrying and love the Kansas City Royals)
"Well I Was Rollin' By Myself,
Went Down to Memphis, Tennessee
I was Lookin' for a Guy Who Had a
Mullet and no Teeth
And I Was Trippin' on Some Acid a
Latino Gave to Me
I Was Smokin' Morphine 'til it
Knocked Me Off My Feet
Then I scored Some "H" From my Old
Uncle Pete
Now I'm startin' to feel like I might've
O-deed."
- "Crazed Country Rebel," by Hank Williams III
************************************
I went to a local vitamin shop and asked if they had anything to flush out the body. I told the blick chick who works there I needed to take a drug test, and I needed something to clean me out. She showed me a kit of herbal pills and powders that was to be taken for one week. She said it was a "popular" seller for "this type of thing."
*************************************
I took the cash THE GRAND POOBAH EDITOR gave me and laid it on the Brew Crew out in Milwaukee, who came through for me, as did the Mariners, who were due for a win. I went to see my bookie, Hutch, in order to collect. We met at the Blimpie's on 45th and 2nd.
BOOKIE: You're lucky, Longcipher, I'll give ya that.
(Bookie slides an envelope toward Longcipher, who looks inside and counts).
LONGCIPHER: How about we let this whole bitch ride on the Filet's tonight?
BOOKIE: You want Philly? Let it ride on Philly? What the fuck am I here for then?
LONGCIPHER: You'll take my bet?
BOOKIE: (Pause) No. (Bookie stands up) Go fuck yourself, Longcipher.
(Bookie gets up and walks away).
****************************************
The Bookie wouldn't take my action, but I was able to sell the Walrus Top 50 Songs of the 80's list to a gentleman in China who deposited a hefty sum to my pay pal account. I then sold it again to a woman in Manhattan, Kansas. And I sold it again to my dentist, Frank, who hosts an 80's appreciation night at his home in Teaneck.
******************************************
I got a call that night from Melodie Simond.
MELODIE: Edvard, do you like your new home?
LONGCIPHER: I like it just fine. Just one thing.
MELODIE: What?
LONGCIPHER: I think my neighbor slaps his wife around.
MELODIE: That's horrible.
LONGCIPHER: And there's this smell...
MELODIE: What smell?
LONGCIPHER: I don't know where it's coming from. It hits me when I walk in. And there's no balcony.
MELODIE: (Pause) You can walk to HQ.
LONGCIPHER: What good is that? Have you heard about petty cash?
MELODIE: I haven't heard that album, no.
ANGLE ON LONGCIPHER, who frowns and then says:
LONGCIPHER: Have you heard The Bamboozled Philistines, Live at The Roxy, Volume One?
MELODIE: I was listening to it when I called you.
CUT TO BLACK
****************************************
Edvard Longcipher says, "Puerto Ricans think they know everything... If they knew shit, they wouldn't be Puerto Ricans
23 June
Don't Bogart That Economic Stimulus Package... Mr. Smith Goes to WalrusTown... A Love Letter To A Hooker in Brixton (AKA *You Ever Smoke a Hookah With a Hooker? Now That You Should See!)
Monday morning I went to Walrus HQ to pick up some cash. But that proved to be difficult.
"Petty cash no longer exists at Walrus Comix," Nate from accounting informed me.
"Well I need cash... The man said I had 'unlimited credit'."
"Unlimited credit?! What do you meeeen 'unlimited credit??!!' - I never heard of such a thing - (turns to a co-worker. Repeats) unlimited credit!"
"Nate - I gotta eat, too."
"This comes from upstairs! I don't make the rules!"
"Nah, you just follow 'em, sheep boy."
I got back on the elevator and headed up to the top floor.
When I got off I bee-lined it to His office, rushing past his secretary, Dorris.
Dorris tried to reach over the desk to stop me - "Don't go in there, he's in a meeting!"
I walked in anyway, where THE GRAND POOBAH EDITOR himself was on a conference call. He gave me that look. The 'why are you doing this now' look.
"I'm on with vinyl distributors," he said. "This could be huge for Ultimate Album Sides," he hushed.
"Nate says there's no petty cash?"
"We have that. On vinyl. 1996. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers backing up Johnny Cash. It's called "Unchained." Produced by Rick Rubin."
"____________, I need cash, man!"
"You gonna write that tribute to Tim Russert?"
"No, I am not... He was not Princess fucking Diana, goddammit."
_________ opened up his wallet. He leaned in to the phone on his desk. "Excuse me one minute, gentlemen."
He walked over to me. Handed me a fistful of dollars.
"You killed a man in Long Island City," he said.
"How'd you - "
"You used Walrus issue ammunition... They traced the bullet."
Bastards.
"It's okay, captain over there owed me a favor," he continued.
"It was just one of those things -"
"Just take the cash. Put something down on the Phillies tonight. Spin some gold."
He patted me on the back and went back to the conference call with vinyl distributors.
Outside of his office I walked up to Dorris' desk.
"How is it you're sitting behind a desk, and yet somehow I can still see from here you've got the best gams in the building?"
"Oh Mr. Longcipher..."
I was sitting on the edge of her desk now.
"Whatta you say you and me go to the boardwalk next weekend... I'll buy you some cotton candy."
"I would love to... But my husband wouldn't."
"So don't bring him."
"Sorry... I don't like cotton candy, anyway."
"Well how else am I gonna get an advance list of the Top 20 songs from the 80's?" I asked her.
She smiled, "Mr. Longcipher - All you had to do was ask."
She opened a folder, pulled out a sheet and handed it to me.
"That's classified," she said.
"Dorris - you're the greatest." I leaned over the desk and kissed her on the cheek.
"If you and the husband don't work out, call me first."
********************************
With the list I could make a quick buck on the black market.
********************************
Taxi classes were over - I was scheduled to take the test on Friday. A lot of studying to do, no smoking weed, no pills...
All of this without drugs was going to be tough.
********************************************
* Special Thanks to Branwyn.
Edvard Longcipher is just mad about saffron.
19 June
Newhart on Sunday, Do I Look Like a Wizard To You (AKA I've Got a Sven For You!)
*******************************************
Must've been all that Peyote I took back on the reservation.
________________, in Uncasville, CT, where I took the house for ten large and then did peyote for three days in a comped room.
But this type of behavior tends to catch up with you...
I woke up next to Suzanne Pleshette, and I was forced to tell her it was all a dream.
I had not been speaking with __________ (author of Catch-22's) on the phone, after all. I had been dreaming. I told Miss Pleshette what had happened in my dream.
"You're crazy," said Suzanne Pleshette, who turned over and went back to sleep.
LIVE STUDIO AUDIENCE ERUPTS INTO RIOTOUS LAUGHTER.
A Voice Appears Over a Loudspeaker:
"Ladies and Gents, back from the dead - the GREAT Suzanne Pleshette!"
(APPLAUSE.)
Roses flood the stage - Miss Pleshette (with rotting face) gets out of bed and takes a bow to the live audience who goes wild for her. She then hugs Longcipher, gives him a kiss on his cheek, puts her hand in his and takes his arm and raises it as if to say "Champion," and the live audience goes nuts. The Director calls for order in the court, and Longcipher/Pleshette retreat backstage).
INT. BACKSTAGE - DAY
Suzanne and Edvard are huddled just off stage, we can still hear the audience cooing in their seats.
SUZANNE
How'd I do?
LONGCIPHER
You did great! (Beat) Just one thing.
SUZANNE
What?
LONGCIPHER
How many ears did you have when you arrived here today?
SUZANNE
What?
A Light Guffaw here.
LONGCIPHER
That's what I thought.
ANGLE ON SUZANNE'S ROTTING HEAD.
We can see she has no ears at all, just a rotting head.
Longcipher frowns, turns to camera and says:
LONGCIPHER
Under Protest is written in front of a live audience.
*********************************************
The alarm didn't go off on Sunday morning because I had destroyed it the morning before, when I threw it across the room.
(Titles Appear)
Sunday, 6:45 AM.
Saigon.
LONGCIPHER (V.O.)
Was Charlie asleep? Doubtful - Charlie don't sleep. He was squatting in some bush somewhere along Madison Ave.
He could be anywhere. Anytime.
You had to be awake.
No Doors tapes, no Thai stick.
************************************************
I arrived at ______________ Ave in L.I.C. at 7:58 AM. The street was empty, a tumbleweed rolled by, and then I saw him.
The tattooed tough guy from the diner was standing about 30 yards from me. He had his holster and a revolver on either side. His fingers were dancing, itchy.
He had a sinister smile growing on his face.
I dropped my bag and pulled my tucked-in shirt out to reveal my Saturday Night Special stashed in my belt.
He blinked. Wiped his forehead. Spit.
I stared. Didn't flinch.
A vulture circled above.
The clock tower on Main Street chimed eight 'o clock.
We drew.
Shots fired.
After the dust settled, the tattooed tough guy lay in the dirt.
I walked inside to class.
*********************************************
"New Utrecht Ave goes through Borough Park... Staten Island - The Staten Island Mall is on Richmond Ave and Richmond Hill Road... Pier 76 is the Pound, you'll get people who had their car towed... In Brooklyn, Steinway is not a thoroughfare... Willis Ave will not take you Manhattan... Jamaica Ave intersects with Francis Lewis at Queens Village... Leroy Street is perpendicular to (a) Washington Street, (b) Prince Street, (c) Spring Street, (d) all of the above."
*********************************************
At the break I went to a nearby bar and had two scotch and waters. Listened to a little Frank on the jukebox.
*********************************************
Edvard Longcipher believes in Life after Love. He really does think he's strong enough.
18 June
Saturday Night Fever, Cold Turkey Blues; Teacher! Leave Those Kids Alone!
An Edvard Longcipher Joint
"Please Mister Driver Won't You Pull Over,
We're Really Hungry
We'll Have 14 Steak and Eggs, 14 Orange Juice,
14 Cups of Coffee
Let's Get Back on the Bus,
This is One Place That I Really Wanna See."
- The Stray Cats, "18 Miles to Memphis"
"He Sings Along With The Radio
With a Bullet in His Chest."
- Tom Waits, "Romeo is Bleeding"
"Whom Are You?" Said He,
For He Had Been To Night School."
- George Ade
"My Father was a Gambler Down in Georgia,
And He Wound Up on the Wrong End of a Gun."
- The Allman Brothers, "Ramblin' Man"
******************************************
Waking up Saturday morning was not an easy feat.
The alarm went off and I responded by throwing it across the bedroom. I never looked at where it landed but it didn't sound good.
My head was heavy, I felt exhausted. I dragged myself out of bed and into pants, socks, shoes, a blick shirt. I grabbed my bag. Out the door I went.
*******************************************
The streets were quieter at this time of day on a Saturday, and that was jarring. The day before I dealt with rush-hour traffic, today was a totally different feel. The ride on the _____ train felt more relaxed, if not slower in general.
I made it to ________ Ave ten minutes before class started. I came down the stairs and looked around, realizing the closest thing open at this hour on a Saturday morning was the diner across the street.
I went inside the diner and sure enough the tattooed tough guy pot dealer was at the register, reading a Daily News.
I walked right by him and up to the counter. A Mexican waiter smiled at me.
"Gu mornin, sir." he said, sleepily.
"Small coffee, cream and sugar."
He nodded, and trotted off to fetch.
I pulled out my cell phone and flipped it open. It read:
New Text Message
from:
The Hermit
I clicked "View Now" to read it. The message was,
****Look Behind You****
I turned around and there was the tattooed guy from the register, standing right in front of me.
"Good Mornin," he said.
"Top 'o the mornin," I retorted.
He stood there looking not as crazy as yesterday, but crazy just the same.
The sleepy Mexican waiter put the coffee down in front of me.
"Here jew go, ma friend," said the sleepy Mexican waiter.
"Thank you, my friend," I responded, while grabbing my coffee. I began to move toward the door, while addressing my new tattooed friend.
"What time are you here 'til?"
"Four o' clock," he said.
"And are you here tomorrow?"
"No."
"Damn, damn..."
I looked genuinely upset about that.
"What? What you need, cuz? I could have it here by four o' clock," he said.
It was the hard sell at 7:58 AM.
"You here Monday?" I was at the exit now.
"Yeah," he said.
"Good. I'll be back Monday. Make it two large."
And with that I walked out the door. I could hear him calling after me, "large?? I don't understand 'large..." and then he came running outside after me yelling it on the street. "Yo - my friend - Two Large Whaa??"
I stopped, looked at him.
"Oh!" I said sharply, in New Yawkeese.
"Not here!" I scolded. He seemed to understand, and went back inside to his register.
I walked over to school, coffee in hand.
*************************************************
Back in class;
"The TLC states you must have the following in your taxi cab at all times: GPS meter or trip sheet... Your hack license... The rate card... A 5 Borough Atlas... Receipts... The face of the meter, your hack license and the rate card must be lit."
*************************************************
"Rate one is the regular rate for all fares within the 5 boroughs... Rate two is between JFK and Manhattan, a flat-fare of $45, tolls not included. The third rate is to Newark Airport. The meter starts at $17.50 and makes you a beautiful dollar. You cannot pick up at Newark, it is illegal, therefore you must return to the city alone, therefore you will be handsomely paid for your trip. Rate four is a hidden rate, you have to be in rate one to start it. It's for places like Westchester, or Rockland. You're in rate one leaving the city, you reach the city line, you hit the rate button, and now you're in rate four. The meter now jumps to 80 cents every minute or 1/5 of a mile, as opposed to 40 cents. Rate five is for places like Hoboken, New Jersey, or anyplace else. It is a fee negotiated between you and the customer. You agree on a rate, then punch it in to the system, tolls not included. You can make a beautiful dollar on this rate, so be tough on negotiating."
*****************************************************
"Rack up 6 points against your license in 15 months, your license will get suspended for 20 days... 10 points in 5 months, your first year - license revoked. No second chance."
*******************************************************
"Always tip out your dispatcher, the cashier, the gas man, the mechanic... Save your lease receipts for tax purposes... "
********************************************************
That night I was speaking on the phone with ___________, author of Catch-22's.
I was at Fallout Shelter Part Two, my new home, a modest one bedroom not far from Walrus HQ that Melodie Simond found for me. The French Girl in LA flew out specifically to help me (and Walrus), as I demanded Walrus find me a new home, and I demanded a woman do that job.
It is, after all, women's work.
********************************************************
Snippets from the phone conversation between Longcipher & _____________:
Longcipher: It's a lot of information thrown at you all at once. That's all I'm sayin.
__________: I've seen these A-holes who do it. It can't be that hard.
Longcipher: You'd be surprised, that's all I'm sayin.
__________: (Crunching on something, mouth full of food) I mean, some of these people aren't even ambulatory.
Longcipher: I think there's a dead rat or something behind my stove... There's a smell.
__________: So who do you like tonight? Pirates?
Longcipher: I'm not even paying attention, I swear to you, this goddamned taxi thing has my head in a vice.
__________: You gotta get back to handicapping. You hear about petty cash?
Longcipher: Now what?
__________: The editors have done away with it altogether.
Longcipher: How are we gonna pay for car rentals and surf and turf dinners, goddammit!
__________: I still say it was an inside job.
Longcipher: Who?
(Sound becomes static-like, Longcipher cannot make out what __________ is saying),
Longcipher: Hello? Are you still there?
(We hear a voice on the other end of the phone, but cannot make out whose it is. The voice becomes 'closer,' and then hangs up).
Angle on Longcipher, sitting in his favorite armchair, receiver in hand, mouth open, piecing together what may have just happened...
***********************************************
And Longcipher remembered a code of conduct set forth by the EDITOR-AT-LARGE himself; a creed for us WC folk to live by, and his only mandate yet.
It is simple, it is to the point;
No Walrus Left Behind.
***********************************************
Longcipher knew what he had to do next.
***********************************************
Edvard Longcipher believes in voodoo, if you do.
17 June
Still Day One Up on the Ranch at _____________, in L.I.C.
"He not only overflowed with learning,
But stood in the slop."
- Sydney Smith
"Never learn to do anything:
If you don't learn, you'll always
Find someone else to do it for you."
- Mark Twain
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
We were at the shawarma joint next door.
__________ Miller, my new sensei, was explaining to me how the drug test worked.
"One lab does it all, they've got a monopoly. You can't go anywhere else. It has to be there. It's the only lab that the TLC approves."
He took a bite of his shawarma, then a swig of Pabst.
He continued.
"The hack license is good for a year. There's an expiration date on the license. You've gotta go down to the lab every year, at least 30 days before that expiration date, no later, no sooner, and piss in a cup for the TLC. Flunk and it's over. No second chances."
He took another bite of his shawarma.
"What I do is, let's say my expiration date is June 14 - that means I stop smoking weed on March first."
I counted on my fingers.
"That's over three months..."
He nodded, adding "the THC can stay in your system anywhere from 9 days to 90 days."
"Yeah, but..."
"I don't like to take any chances. I stop for ninety days then take the test. Then I walk outside, pull out the joint I've got in my shirt pocket, and spark it up right there."
"Right on."
He leaned in with a conspiratorial nature about him.
"It's too risky... You want that license... You can't let the TLC or the THC beat you."
"Right."
"You can take up to four months. You can still take the written test without the drug test."
"Right."
"But you won't get your hack license without that drug test, and without that hack license you won't work."
(Pause) "What do you know about those drinks that supposedly clean you out?"
"I don't know anything about that. What I do know is three months should do the trick."
I thanked him for his time, paid the bill.
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Back inside class,
"Shore Parkway, The Cross Island Parkway, The Southern, The Laurelton - these four parkways make up the Belt system, hence the Belt Parkway... They form a complete circle, along with the BQE, between Brooklyn and Queens..."
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Later,
"Here's I-95, below that the Henry Hudson Bridge, then the Washington bridge, then the Alexander Hamilton bridge, The Macombs Dam, The 145th Street bridge, The Madison Ave bridge at 138th street, The Willis Ave bridge, and the Triboro..."
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And then,
"So what neighborhood is closest to the Whitestone Bridge? College Point. What's the closest to the L.I.E.? Middle Village... The Marine Parkway bridge goes over the Rockaway inlet... The Western boundary of Van Cortdlandt Park is Broadway... Harlem Hospital is at 135th and Lennox... The Bronx Zoo is located at Southern Blvd and Fordham Rd... The boundaries of Crotona Park are as follows..."
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That night I got a call from Walrus HQ.
Walrus: Where have you been?
Longcipher: Taking care of that Taxi Driver thing.
Walrus: What The Hermit suggested? You're really going through with it?
Longcipher: Yeah.
Walrus: Wow. Is there a lot to do?
Longcipher: Three days of class. An exam.
Walrus: When do you start?
Longcipher: I started today.
Walrus: Is it hard?
Longcipher: (Pause) You know what? It is, actually...
Walrus: (After a pause) Then how do all these idiots who can't even speak English do it?
Longcipher: (Spotting his reflection in the mirror and acknowledging a moment of light headedness) I... don't... know...
Longcipher staggers, falls to the ground. The spotlight on Longcipher fades out, and the music rises.
Curtain.
END OF ACT ONE.
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Edvard Longcipher was always a Third Ave/Willis Ave Bridge kinda guy.
16 June
Wake Up, First Day of School... Longcipher in Long Island City - Three Days Only! Swipe Your Card, Please... A Bridge to The Bronx (or, Como Ser un Taxista en Nueva York, El Nacimiento de la Tragedia)
"It's Not Rocket Science."
- Guy who taught the Defensive Driving Class,
On being a Taxi Driver
"Are You, Or Anyone Who Reports to You,
Contemplating Resignation?"
- The Late, Great, Tim Russert (R.I.P.)
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I woke up the next day at 7 AM, 1010 WINS blaring in my ear.
I didn't want to bother with coffee, I just got dressed and grabbed a bag, a notebook and some pens. I was out the door by 7:20.
Grabbed the train at ________ St and took it down to __________ St Station where I transferred to the _______ train out to L.I.C.
I arrived early, around 7:45, class beginning at 8.
I walked over to a diner that was on the corner and went inside and ordered a small coffee with cream and sugar to go.
I looked in my wallet and realized I had no cash. Fuck.
I turned to a tattooed guy with a buzz cut standing at the register.
"Can I use a debit card for a small coffee?"
"Yeah, sure." He pointed at the card swipe machine facing me.
"Slide it in. Go -" he hurriedly pointed at the credit card slide machine which was more of an insert job rather than a slide model.
I fumbled. He seemed frantic, like we had to do this quick or someone might notice.
"Just slide it in - there you go... now give me the last four digits of the card."
"What? Why?"
He said everything in a hushed, intense tone.
"Just give me the last four digits of your card."
A guy with a tattoo of an Iron Cross on his neck is asking me for the last four digits of my debit card. I froze up.
"I don't understand; why do you need the last four numbers of my debit card, why would I give you that?"
His eyes began to go a little crazier.
"I'm not asking for your security code. I'm asking for the last four digits -"
"9727."
"Thank you."
I paused. And then,
"It's a bullshit system."
He lit up.
"What?!"
"It's not very pot-head friendly," I explained.
"Yo what the fuck," he went into a hushed tone that seemed filled with rage - "I'm baked right now, chief..."
"Not you - you're not what's not pot-head friendly... It's the system I don't like."
"Well I never heard anyone complain before."
"Well I just did."
I put my card back into my wallet, took my coffee.
He came out from around the counter and stood in front of me. He pushed something into my hand, a piece of paper. He stared at me.
"You got my number?"
I had no idea what was happening. It was too early for this aggression.
He nodded down at my hand and went on.
"You should use it."
"Okay..."
He looked around nervously. "That 'pot-head friendly' or some shit you said before... I can help with that, you know what I'm sayin?"
Very intense man.
"Yeah, I think I do. Okay. Cool. Great. I'll definitely call you," I said, and stepped around him.
It was my first day of school and I didn't want to be late for class. When I got outside the diner I tossed the piece of paper into a trash can.
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My teacher was an obvious stoner from the sixties who clearly held to his own path in life. I had seen him around the day I took my defensive driving class. He looked like a member of The Allman Brothers Band. I had a feeling we were gonna get along.
He introduced himself as ________ Miller, from Duarte, California. Been driving a yellow cab in New York City for thirty years. He would show us what we needed to know to pass the exam, assuming everyone in the class was familiar with New York City.
He spoke about what the test would be covering: English proficiency, geography, map reading, and then multiple choice questions, which make up the bulk of the test.
He would be going over all bridges and water crossings with us, as well as major highways, roads, parkways, etc in all five boroughs.
He would be teaching us how to read New York City maps.
He would go over the TLC guidebook of regulations for Cab Drivers, much of which will be questions on the exam.
We would be covering a lot in three eight-hour days.
He pulled down a map that could be written on with black magic marker and began at it.
"The Macombs Dam Bridge connects Manhattan to the Bronx at West 155th St and Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard... How can a bridge to The Bronx start on the West side of Manhattan, you ask? Look at the map, the East side ends at 127th street..."
And on and on it went until noon, when it was time for a break.
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I looked around and saw that I was the only white man in class. All blicks, browns and whatever else's. Well, the teacher was a white guy. I walked up to him.
"Name's Edvard."
I didn't extend a hand, and he didn't offer to shake my hand. I liked that. I don't wanna touch people's hands.
"Good to meet ya," he said.
"I wanted to ask you about the drug test," I said.
He laughed.
"You smoke?"
"Yes I do," I said.
He laughed again, then suspiciously surveyed the room.
"Let's go outside and talk about this," he said, finally.
We walked outside to the street.
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More to come.
Edvard Longcipher is available for corporate events and private parties and can be contacted at longcipher@yahoo.com for further details. All sales are final, no refunds of any kind, not accepting any coupons or promotional codes. Mr. Longcipher is not affiliated with any group or party, and his views are solely his own and not those of Walrus Comix.
12 June
I'll Be Your Driver, My Name's Judd Hirsch: Are You Talking To Me? Taxi Driver 2008, An Edvard Longcipher Picture
******************************************************
I had gone down to Social Security exactly ten days ago. I had lost my original card, and I was going to need a card in order to continue with the taxi driver idea. So down to 2nd Ave I went. They told me it would take ten days. They were right.
I went up to the DMV on 125th Street and had my license changed from a class D to a class E for $35 and no eye test.
Now that I had my social and chauffeur's license, I was ready to begin the Taxi School process full throttle.
I had done the research and settled on one particular Taxi School in Long Island City, and I'd tell you their name, but they haven't agreed to cover my class costs for the plugs. No deal, no mention, so sorry ________________, in Long Island City.
Before beginning classes one must attend a six-hour defensive driving course, which is held every day at _________________, in L.I.C.
I went down on a Wednesday and paid on the spot for my defensive driving course. It was taught by a Hack named Tico, and he struck me as an okay guy, as he made frequent mention of "doobies" and "reefer."
The class was six hours long, with a one-hour break, but I was able to get away for longer.
The school's secretary arranges the mandatory doctor visit as well. You pay her the cash on the spot, and she makes the call and you go see the doctor then and there. She told me she'd send me to the doctor's during the break, and I just smiled and nodded.
I had to take the subway three stops to get to a Dr. Kim Yung Joon, who I was never clear if I met or not, but more on that later.
At the school, as Juanita the secretary was giving me the directions to the doctor's, she asked me to take along this forty something year old African guy, really dark, blick as midnight. He could barely form a sentence, and she was afraid he would get lost. I didn't care if he got lost, of course, and in fact I tried to lose him twice.
He was a big dumb blick lug, and I was ordained his sherpa for some insane reason.
He managed to stay on me, and we both arrived at Dr. Joon's office within ten minutes. We walked in, and an older Asian woman sat us down. She started filling out a form and never looked at me once. An older Asian man walked in with another Asian guy, and they walked to the back.
So the old guy could have been Dr. Joon, or the woman was Dr Joon; either way, Dr. Joon never looked at me, yet I walked out five minutes later with an official looking clean bill of health from Dr Kim Yung Joon in Long Island City.
*********************************************************
The defensive driving course came to an end and I went back to the office and asked how soon I could start classes.
There was a 24 hour class, which was the minimum required by the Taxi & Limousine Commision (TLC), as well as an 80 hour class, and an "unlimited" package that "guarantees" a hack license.
I opted for the 24 hour class, and Juanita said I could start Friday. Do Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and I could take the test the next Friday. It could all be done quick. I could "TCB the TLC", and that would be a neat trick. The only hitch was gonna be the drug test.*
*More on that later.
********************************************************
The next step was to go down to the TLC and show them my social security card, pay them processing fees, show them my class E license, show them I took the six-hour class, the doctor's note, and voila - I was given the nod to go and sit and wait to be called to another TLC agent who would then go over more paperwork and payments I had to make to TLC, and then directed to a room where I was finger printed and photographed. Every one of Longcipher's digits was scanned into the system, and now they had me in their web of information.
**********************************************************
Upon finishing my duties at TLC I went directly back to ________________ school in L.I.C.
I spoke with Juanita.
"This drug test... What's the deal?"
"What? You smoke?" She made the joint-at-the-mouth hand gesture. "It's okay, you can tell me. I'm your friend," she said.
"Yeah, a little... You know."
"Well, you'll have to clean yourself out. You don't have to do it now, you can wait four months from the day you file to the TLC, but you cannot get your hack license without taking that drug test."
"But I can start classes without it?"
"Absolutely."
"And I can start classes tomorrow?"
"Absolutely."
************************************************************
The drug test was gonna be a problem. I was going to have to research drug tests and how to beat them.
I didn't smoke any weed that night, and I began drinking gallons of water a day.
************************************************************
Edvard Longcipher believes in the old chestnut that says "you've gotta be cruel to be kind (in just the right measure)."
9 June
Happy First Birthday Walrus Comix (or, Petty-Cash and The Bamboozled Phillistines Live at The Roxy Vol. One, Side One) P.S. I Wanna Be An Air Force Ranger
"May you live to be 100
And may the last voice you hear be mine."
- Frank Sinatra
"If I'd known I was going to live
This long I'd have taken better care of myself."
- Eubie Blake
We were all sitting around Walrus HQ.
That is I, Longcipher, along with my faithful droogs, Hermit, __________, author of Catch-22's, Jack the Ripper, Howard Bannister, Brant Miles, and the new guy, Oliver Miller. We were at Walrus HQ, conference room # two. We sat around the table, the birthday cake in front of us.
The loud speakers played selections from Walrus' new Top 50 songs from the 90's.
We did a video chat with ________ & ________, the editors of Walrus Comix. They thanked us all for a job well done, toasted us with champagne glasses while we drank coca-cola from styrofoam cups. They spoke of various goals for the second year, and I barely heard a word as I was busy thinking about what I had to do to start the process of getting my hack license. There were a lot of hoops to jump, and I was only thinking of how I could become less reliant on The Walrus and gambling for cash. "Taxi Driver" was looking more and more glamorous by the minute.
I walked over to the new guy, Oliver Miller.
"Hey. Welcome to Walrus Democrats dot com."
"What?"
"You're writing a new blog here, right?"
"Yeah..."
"It's best if you leave the pro-Hillary stuff to Hermit and __________, as they've cornered the market on her."
"I wasn't planning on writing about politics," he went on. "I write about comics, film -"
I interrupted "you've got some gall - writing about comics on a site called Walrus Comix..." I patted him on the back, as men do to each other, "Okay, fair enough, you know your audience, I'll give you that."
He just glared at me. I walked over to ___________, author of Catch-22's.
"Happy Birthday," I said, offering my styrofoam cup. He touched his styrofoam cup to mine.
"Next year we'll be in a different HQ, I guarantee it," he said defiantly.
"Next year in Jerusalem," I countered.
He just looked at me.
"So Nate in accounting tells me someone's been looting from petty cash," he went on after a length of silence.
"What's that?" I snapped, "who is it? Is it Stottlemyer? That prick's always chasin' a buck."
"They don't know who it is. But it's an inside job, that's for sure."
"Someone's got their hand in the til... Of course."
"Longcipher, if you knew of anything -"
"I resent the implication -"
"I wasn't implying anything -"
"I'm not a petty man."
"I know that."
"I'm more of a grand-larceny type."
"I understand."
"If I knew who was ripping us off I'd personally sear his nuts in a metal pan filled with olive oil on high flame."
"Thanks, Longcipher. Have another cocktail, why dontcha..."
"What? I'm not drunk, I could drive a car if I had to. Shit."
"Settle down, nobody wants you to drive."
"You don't believe me."
"I believe you, I believe you..."
The Hermit walked over. He raised his cup.
"Congrats," I offered lazily.
"I'd prefer it we were celebrating a Hillary victory," he said flatly.
I waved a hand dismissively.
"Never mind her. You watching those Cubbies? Watch it - Sox against Sox in the series."
The Hermit shrugged. "Sounds boring to me."
"Maybe so. But a little money down, and before you know it..."
The Hermit made a face. "How's the taxi thing going? You a cab driver yet?"
"Not even close. A lot to do."
"Do it already, dammit."
"Yeah, dammit," added ________, author of Catch-22's.
"Okay," I deadpanned. "I'll get right on it."
We stood in silence. Jack The Ripper walked over.
"You guys hear about petty cash?"
"Didn't Tom Petty play with Johnny Cash?" Asked The Hermit.
"Yes. With Rick Rubin producing - your man Rick Rubin," laughed _________.
"Petty-Cash," The Hermit repeated.
"Since Walrus is giving hand outs, how bout putting in a word for me on a couple of large," I sidemouthed to Hermit.
"Talk to Nate," snapped The Hermit. "Check out the Arthur Ashe gash on Gertrude McTrash," whispered Hermit.
He could be a filthy old man after a few drinks. I've never seen him get kicked out of a bar, but I've seen him clear a few. He may be called The Hermit, but I've been out on the town with him many times and let me tell you, he's a beast of a man. Things I can't even get into here, as contracts have been signed, stock options are at stake, etc. - All I will say is that The Hermit with a few drinks in him is like a wild animal prowling your backyard at high noon. It's best if you leave it alone, and just stay away. But The Hermit was in fighting form today.
"One year anniversary, and where's the raise from Walrus Home office? Where's the bonus?" snarled The Hermit.
Jack The Ripper waved a hand. "Blood from a stone, my good man, blood from a stone."
"That's why I'm gonna go write for this other on-line site. They'll pay," The Hermit said.
Brant Miles walked over.
"How's the Porsche," I asked him.
"Screw you, Longcipher. You should've gotten proper representation, then you wouldn't have signed the contract you signed."
"I represent myself, that's just how it goes. I'm old school, Miles."
"Well at any rate, the Porsche is driving great. Thanks for asking."
"Great. Glad to hear it. You deserve it," I insisted.
"You could have had your own Porsche," he said under his breath.
"Look Miles, I don't need this shit tonight, alright? You got the big contract here, hooray for you. We working stiffs here just want a cold beer once in a while."
"He's drunk," explained __________.
"The hell I am!" I protested. "I could drive a taxi right now. Anytime, anywhere."
"Are there hot dogs?" asked The Ripper.
"There's sliders," countered __________.
"You'd think the editors would have shown up for this," moaned Brant Miles.
"Whatta you care," I dared him. "You got your stinkin' money."
Brant Miles shoved me into the Doritos. He walked away.
"Yeah, you'd better walk away!" I called after him.
People were uncomfortable.
The music stopped.
The Hermit called for more wine, more fish.
Somebody called for a samba line in Spanish.
We danced into the wee hours, chanting "Walrus" at the witching hour, making sure to say it six times while drowning a stray cat Bannister found downtown this morning. We prayed for War, Chaos, and Anarchy, and we sacrificed more animals and young children then Anton LaVey.
We Sold our Souls to Rock N Roll.
We went down to the Crossroads.
Viva El Walrus Comix, Viva!
Cien Anni.
La Chaim.
Happy Birthday, Walrus.
Love,
Edvard.
Edvard Longcipher is in talks to star in a German Production of Jerry Springer! The Musical!