I've heard that riding in the front seat of an Uber signals that you want to chat with the driver, and riding in the back seat means that you prefer silence. I always sit in the back.

But when I went to catch a ride from my house the other night, there was stuff in the van's back seat, so the front was the only option. As I squeezed in, the driver cheerfully asked, "Do you like the neighborhood?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," I said, still trying to get the seat belt on. The driver started rolling away.

As he drove, he kept muttering questions, increasingly quietly. Between his dwindling volume and Arabic accent, I couldn't really understand what he was asking, so I kept offering bland responses. "Uh huh." "Yeah." "Mmm."

After five minutes, there was at last a lull where he stopped muttering. To fill the silence, I elaborated: "This used to be a really quiet neighborhood. But since they connected the new bridge last year, traffic has gotten really bad here. There are just so many people now!"

At normal volume, the driver said, "Hey, I'm going to have to call you back. I have a passenger." And then he took the earbud out of his left ear.

We didn't talk for the rest of the drive.


Logical Operator

The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

R.I.P. Pat

Kelly's mother passed away last week. The event had been anticipated for decades: Pat was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes as a child, suffered kidney failure in 1995 and survived on her brother's donated kidney, and had five strokes and five heart attacks and countless operations, including emergency brain surgery in 2007 that changed her personality. She obviously possessed quite an inner resiliency even if she seemed petite and frail on the outside, but it was inevitable that she would someday lose the fight with her own body. Go »

My Hot Thanksgiving

It may have been a cold Thanksgiving up north, but it wasn't in my mother's apartment yesterday, where the air conditioning was broken and it was 80°. And that was before we turned the oven on for an hour to heat the food. We've ordered pre-made meals before from various businesses like Boston Market and Publix, but this year the only source we could find was Zoës Kitchen, a Middle Eastern chain restaurant. Go »

Abe, Honest

During my visit to Springfield last weekend, Kelly and I went to a historical reenactment on the outskirts of town. Every small city that can do so builds shrines to its homegrown celebrity, but Springfield takes worship of Abraham Lincoln to new levels of ridiculousness. Besides the museum with the ordinary tools used by Lincoln during his early twenties, the historical community had the actual buildings he slept in and worked in. Go »

Revisiting Survivor: Australia

Since I'm a fan of Survivor and I missed the first halves of early seasons when they aired, lately I've rented them on DVD to see what I missed. And it's given me an opportunity to reflect on how the show has changed over twelve seasons. The first two seasons had a special quality that has largely been missing every since, which is the genuineness of the cast. Go »

Haute cuisine

Today I came across this photo gallery of independent restaurants around our area. Some of them we've enjoyed, like GooCon favorite The Lobster Pot, and others are ones we just haven't gotten around to yet. As pretty as the food looks, I find myself looking at the dining rooms and noticing how many of them look decorated for private parties. Go »

What Other Kitty Cats are as Good as You, the Bestest Kitty Cat in the Whole World, Yes You Are?

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