“When you’re from Cleveland, it’s not about, like, jumping on the bandwagon. It starts when you’re a kid, and then you’re loyal for life.”

The tipsy woman expounding from the back seat had grown up in Cleveland, a point of great pride, apparently. Also in the cab were her husband and two friends — a couple visiting from Staten Island. She was bound and determined to make sure everyone in the cab, including me, understood definitively that Cleveland Indian fans were the greatest baseball fans in the world.... Read more

Beep, beep, beep.

“OK, I’ll pick you up at 8:15 tonight, but I gotta run. I got another call coming in.”

I clicked off the one customer, scowling at my infernal cellphone. I could say that I have a love/hate relationship with technology, but hate/hate is more on the mark. No matter how many times I try it, the call-waiting maneuver escapes me. In the relentless race of 21st-century life, I’m way behind and out of breath, with no realistic hope of ever catching up.

I pushed a few buttons, more or less at random.... Read more

Sean, a regular customer, was calling from Barry’s Transmission. Poor guy, I thought. This is no knock on the shop; given my own — let’s call it vehement — use of the accelerator pedal, I have found myself limping into Barry’s more times than I care to remember. They do great work, but it don’t come cheap.... Read more

The woman stepped into the back seat after corralling her flock of sparkling silver helium balloons in the drizzly late night air. Her partner followed right behind. As they settled into their seats, shaking off the rain, I asked, “Where to, folks?”

“OK, here’s the thing,” the man replied. “We have to go all the way out to Jericho — Nashville Road, if you know where it is.”

“Well, I guess I’ll take you out there,” I said.... Read more

A squadron of freshly minted University of Vermont freshmen flagged me down as I coasted through the Greek section of Burlington’s Main Street. College fraternities and sororities, so familiar to any American, are virtually unknown outside of the USA. On occasions when I’m asked to explain the phenomena to foreign tourists, they’re often incredulous, sometimes even thinking I’m putting them on. I guess “Greek” student houses, like “Indian” summer camps for kids, are pure Americana, in all its glory and weirdness.... Read more

Like the swallows appearing annually in Capistrano, the college students have returned to Burlington. Overnight, everything changes. Fifteen thousand people, aged 18 to 22, will do that to a community. The energy level on the streets rises; you can’t help but feel it. Personally, I like it. Or perhaps I’ve just learned to accept it, like the weather.... Read more

When the blue-eyed man jumped into my cab, I thought, “Well, it’s about time.”... Read more

F orget July 4th, St. Patrick’s Day or, for that matter, New Year’s Eve. Over the last few years, another celebration has muscled its way to the pinnacle of Burlington’s party calendar. For sheer number and enthusiasm of revelers, the annual Vermont Brewers Festival now trumps them all. That’s the street-level assessment of one local cabbie, anyway.... Read more

A guy and a girl, arms locked with a third guy between them, approached my taxi as I idled at a traffic light in downtown Burlington. The man in the middle was three sheets to the wind, if not four. OK, then, I thought, it’s one of those deals.

“Could you get our friend here back to his place on Buell Street?” the young woman asked.... Read more

“How’d it go at the dentist?” I asked my seatmate, a regular customer. I was driving her home, from Pearl Street in Burlington to Pearl Street in Essex Junction — a minor coincidence that made me happy. Some days it doesn’t take much.

“It went about as well as a trip to the dentist,” she replied.

Great answer, I thought.... Read more