deep thoughts from the road

Over the years I’ve done a few Uber/Lyft drives that perplexed me. That is to say, I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened.

Perhaps the most head scratching instance of this was a few years ago during the wee hours of the morning. It was December and I was heading back from dropping a university student off at Chicago O’Hare Airport, presumably to fly home for Christmas break. After I’d gotten far enough away from the Northwest corner of Indiana, or what they call “The Region,” I turned my Uber and Lyft apps back on to accept ride requests. I didn’t really feel like dealing with Chicago ahead of the morning rush hour, and there’s always a decent chance that any pick up you do within an hour of Chicagoland will take you back to the city.

The drive to O’Hare from the university takes about 2 and a half hours one way. I was about an hour back down South when my app alerted me that there was a ride request. I would have to turn around and go back roughly 15 minutes in the other direction, but I was going to make $30, so it was worth it. I accepted the ride and began looking for the next spot to turn around. After a minute or two, a phone call came through the app. Drivers and passengers can call or message each other this way to ask for or provide necessary details, as well as for any other number of reasons.

I answered, and the man on the other end of the phone met me with a request. He wanted to know if I would just follow him. He said no questions asked and he would give me $100 when we got where we were going. $100 top of what I was already going to make. The request wasn’t computing, and I wasn’t sure I grasped what he was asking. It didn’t make sense to me that someone would call an Uber or Lyft and then not get in my car. Worried that I wasn’t processing it properly, I sought clarification by asking, “So you aren’t going to get in my car at all?” At this point he became a little agitated and restated all of it in a very stern voice. He repeated that he just wanted me to follow him and that he would give me an extra $100, no questions asked. I said okay and we hung up.

In the ten minutes or so that it took me to get to him, I didn’t think much about what the reason behind his request might be. Instead, I tried to decide if I was doing anything wrong or breaking any rules by doing a drive without anyone getting in my car. Eventually I reasoned that it was the person calling the Uber or Lyft’s prerogative, and that what they were paying me for was to drive a specific route. I wasn’t transporting anything illegal or going anywhere illegal, so I couldn’t convince myself that I was doing anything wrong.

As I got within a mile or two of the exit, the man called again and asked if I was there yet. I informed him I was getting close, and he told me that when I got off the ramp there would be a hotel and to wait for him near the front of it. He said once I arrived, he would come around from the back side of the building and I could follow him out. Perhaps it was the surreal nature of the moment or the time of day and year, but when I pulled up to the hotel it felt dark and vacant. To be honest, I can’t even remember if there were other cars in the parking lot. After a few moments, he appeared, and I began following him back up the highway as he instructed. We drove for roughly ten miles or so before he pulled off onto an exit. We drove several more miles through a rural area until we ended up on the edge of a small town. He then pulled into a driveway, walked down to my car and with a warm thank you handed me a one-hundred-dollar bill. I left and that was the end of it.

As I resumed my journey home, I started considering what had just happened. Before you continue reading, I invite you to try and formulate your own opinion. I say that because I would like to hear what other people think without being influenced by my own thoughts on the matter.

Done? Okay. Don’t forget to let me know what you think after you finish reading this.

My initial thought was that he wanted his wife or girlfriend to think he was somewhere other than he was. For instance, let’s say he was from out of town or had moved away, and the house I followed him to was an old friend or family member. Perhaps he was staying at the hotel, but said he was going to visit them at the house I followed him to. Maybe he said he was going to take an Uber or Lyft because they’d be drinking, and he didn’t want to be driving back to the hotel. By having me follow him, he’d have a digital paper trail that he took an Uber to his friend or family member’s house, but unbeknownst to whoever, his vehicle was with him. This way he could really go see or do whoever or whatever he wanted without it seeming like a possibility.

One of the first people I relayed that story to offered me a much simpler and more likely possibility. The man had been drinking or was in possession of something illegal and wanted a buffer from the police. I was that buffer. By putting me behind him, he was making it less likely that he would get noticed or pulled over. That makes way more sense to me than what I had concocted. (Hey. I said in a previous blog that brain is unnecessarily busy.) Whatever the man’s reasoning, it was worth over $130 dollars to him for a very short drive.

I’ve done a few rides where after the fact it felt like I was involved in something sketchy. Never anything to where it was so obvious that I felt even close to being compelled to notify anyone, but just enough that something wasn’t adding up. I’ll revisit these stories on occasion and look forward to hearing your thoughts on them.

The UBeerOsopher

And now…a haiku:

without the unknown

we risk the unlucky fate

of knowing it all

I consider the music playing in my car to be a critical part of the experience for my passengers when I’m driving for Uber/Lyft.

I’ve had thousands of people in my back seat, and trying to ensure that whatever song is playing when they get in my car appeals to them is no easy feat. Whether they are with me for 3 minutes or 2 and a half hours, I want that time to be as enjoyable as possible. Often a passenger is heading somewhere undesirable, like work, and other times they may just be having a bad day. If possible, I want to help them escape for a few moments.

The first couple of weeks I did Uber/Lyft, I didn’t have anything playing in my car. I was still navigating the whole process and I wasn’t sure what was normal or comfortable. In hindsight, the silence was probably pretty awkward for those early passengers. At some point, I began putting on a local radio station that played the most current and popular music. That was okay, but then I found that after a couple of years I was still listening to the same songs 9 or 10 times in a single day. More often than not, songs I hated. I decided there had to be a compromise to where I wasn’t spending my entire workday trapped in a car listening to what I considered to be insufferable music. I made a playlist of just the popular songs I didn’t hate and began using that. It worked for a while, but then I grew tired of it as well. Eventually, knowing that on some level 80’s music appeals to most people, I threw together a playlist of instantly recognizable and upbeat songs like “Take On Me” and “Beat It.” It proved to be a pretty successful move, and passengers would regularly hum or sing along to artists like Prince or Don Henley, while in-between rides I would serenade the empty space with The Outfield or Depeche Mode.

About a year ago, I started producing a 90’s themed podcast and YouTube channel. (the90sweekbyweek.com, thanks for asking!) While deep diving into the music of that era, which is far more representative of my formative years than the 80’s, I decided to switch to a 90’s Uber/Lyft playlist. As I watch people my age reminisce over a song or a moment they associate it with, I’m offered a sense of shared nostalgia. For instance, I had a passenger the other day talk about a tour they recently attended that included the band New Edition. While New Edition itself is more closely associated with the 80’s, they spawned several acts that are considered quintessential 90’s. In this case, the song “Poison” by Bel Biv Devoe had come on while they were in my car. “Poison,” by far, elicits some of the most positive reactions from my passengers. Rightfully so. I’ve heard it a thousand times in the past year and still haven’t gotten tired of it.

Selecting songs from the 90’s to put into a playlist for an extremely diverse group of random people is a lot harder than it may seem. Especially when you’re trying to find music that you yourself don’t hate or will get burned out on quickly. Obviously, if you’re trying to bring someone’s mood up or give them a positive experience, you can’t just go with what were considered the most popular songs of the 90’s. Many of them have inappropriate lyrics or intense musical arrangements, and others tend to be too mellow or melancholy. In addition, what I consider to be the best songs of the 90’s may not be the best choices for an Uber/Lyft ride. I long considered Pearl Jam’s song “Black” to be my favorite of any era. After years of playing it over and over, I’m not as high on it as I once was, but still consider it a vital part of any 90’s playlist I’m making for myself. Honestly, every song off the “Ten” album could go on a 90’s playlist and I’d consider it acceptable. Not a single song on that album, however, has made it on my Uber/Lyft 90’s playlist. I just don’t see them helping anyone’s mood for the amount of time I’m taking them wherever they are going. On the other hand, “Jump” by Kriss Kross or “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey have a pretty high success rate.

Sometimes, after I’ve listened to a song for the hundredth time, I start to question my decision to include it in the first place. And I’m not going to lie, “Ice Ice Baby” is still in rotation, but every time it comes on, I get a little embarrassed. God forbid that anyone who doesn’t know that I compiled a list of popular 90’s songs think that I just chose to listen to Vanilla Ice on my own accord. I’m not judging anyone that chooses to express their inner Rob Van Winkle on a regular basis, he’s just not real indicative of anything I choose to associate with. Another example of a song on my current 90’s Uber/Lyft playlist that I second guess is “So What’Cha Want” by the Beastie Boys. It’s one of my favorites on there, but with such a heavy beat and staticky vocals, I wonder if the appeal is broad enough for the myriad of people entering my car. Conversely, while it’s also currently in rotation, I fear that “Plush” by Stone Temple Pilots has a tempo that is too slow to bring or keep people’s spirits up.

It's difficult to separate your affinity for certain songs and the memories you attach to them from the unknown experiences of others. Especially complete strangers. I’m constantly questioning and refining my 90’s playlist. Imagine you are getting in an Uber or Lyft, and the driver is playing 90’s music. If you are looking to be in a festive or positive mood, what songs would you want to hear? What songs would it be hard not to smile at or begin humming along to? Feel free to leave your thoughts and suggestions in the comments and thanks in advance!

And now…a haiku:

though the songs differ

everyone has a soundtrack

if you will listen

My favorite time to drive is generally between 4 and 6 am. There is hardly any other traffic on the road during those hours which means less opportunity for me to get upset at the way other people are driving.

A while back I picked up a young man from an industrial setting in the wee hours of the morning.

People aren’t usually talkative at that time of day, especially during the week. The reason for this is that they are either bracing themselves for a full day of work or are getting off a long night of work. This particular gentleman, however, was friendly and open to conversation. It’s obvious when someone is willing to talk. Generally, after they get in and I tell them good morning, they’ll ask a question. Something like, “How’s your morning going?” or “Gotten many rides this morning?” Without exception I will pounce on the opportunity to converse. I have an innate intrigue with everyone and their backstory, but conversation also makes the ride go exceptionally faster.

We only talked for a few moments before it became obvious we had some things in common. Namely the way we look at and approach life. That is to say curiously, if not suspiciously. If I remember right, it progressed quickly to some half joking reference by one of us to the movie “The Matrix.” The Matrix, I’ve found, is a fairly accurate barometer for feeling someone out. If they prefer to wade in the shallower end of the pool, they’ll laugh and either fall silent or just change the topic. If, however, they spend any amount of time questioning the nature of reality and what we think we know about any and everything, they’ll seize the opportunity to dive headfirst into the deep end. This man chose to dive.

After I touched on some things I’m currently into and learning about, he asked me if I’d ever heard of the “egg theory.” Shaking my head, I looked in the rear-view mirror and told him no. What he explained sounded something like a form of reincarnation, but given that it had its own name and some random stranger was sitting in my back seat talking about it, I assumed there had to be more to it. As soon as he got out of the car, roughly fifteen minutes from the time I picked him up, I typed “egg theory” into the notes on my phone so that I could revisit it. A few days later I remembered the conversation and typed it into google.

“The Egg” is a short story written by a man named Andy Weir in 2009. It’s a very brief read, and presented primarily in the form of a dialogue between you and God, immediately following your death in a car accident. I don’t want to spoil every detail, but it plays with the notion that every time we die, we are reborn into another person that has or will exist throughout history. It doesn’t happen in chronological order, and the process will continue until you have lived every life that has ever existed on earth, accumulating their experiences and knowledge in the process. You are unaware this is happening while you are “alive,” and once you are done, you will ascend to a deity like status. In essence, the universe is an egg, whereby we are growing and will eventually hatch into another form of being.

A couple blogs ago, I referenced near death experiences, a topic I will likely revisit often. One of the reoccurring themes on the other side in NDE’s is the discovery of an interconnectedness we all have. The first couple times I heard this mentioned in an experiencer’s account, I thought it sounded overly cliché, but the more NDE’s I listened to, the more I began hearing it from a diverse group of individuals with varying pre-death beliefs and backgrounds. They weren’t just saying actions have a “ripple effect,” but that it goes even deeper than that. Like on a molecular or quantum level. According to these people, who have legitimately died and been uploaded with knowledge we seem to have once possessed and will possess again, when we do something to someone else, we are literally doing it to ourselves. It would seem that at least unintentionally, that’s the notion that the author of the “egg theory” is toying with. Everyone operating in that system is just a different version of the same person, so we are constantly interacting with ourselves. Whatever you do to someone else, you are literally doing to yourself.

For even the most zealous person of faith, in a monotheistic sense, this isn’t incompatible with their belief system. Not necessarily the egg theory itself, but the concept of literal interconnectedness. If you believe in a singular creator, then we all derive from the same source. No matter what we are made of or instilled with, our origin is the same. That’s true for pretty much any atheistic belief as well. Whether you consider us star dust or the breath of God, we each derived from the same place.

This concept can be found across all cultures and religions throughout time. In a philosophical sense, it may be referred to as the “Ethics of Reciprocity,” but one popular version of it is called “The Golden Rule.” It goes, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” While those words are valuable council even on a surface level, they take on another layer of meaning when one applies the aforementioned concepts. You are literally doing unto yourself anytime you do unto another. Even if just in a quantum sense, whereby we all originate from a singular source and retain a level of energy connectedness, we are still doing to ourselves on some physical level.

The ego seems to be a major problem for the ethics of reciprocity. I often wonder why we were allowed to have it, or why it was allowed to take the dominant role in our lives and behavior that it does. The ego seeks to serve the self, and approaches life from the vantage point of the individual’s wants and needs. That is, unless that’s the point of life. To identify the ego as problematic and then work to suppress it for the good of the collective. It seems so obvious.

Unless, of course, the universe is just an egg.

The UBeerOsopher

And now…a haiku:

if all that matters

could be fit into an egg

we’d just scramble it

At the height of COVID, I drove a gentleman from a nearby university to the Indianapolis airport. Many of my most interesting rides have happened this way. The trip takes roughly an hour, so when they are willing to talk, I get to hear from some of the most fascinating people I’ve ever knowingly crossed paths with. It’s like a free course or a private lecture given by the brightest minds on a myriad of topics.

This particular man had been visiting a relative, and was on his way back home, which happen to be on the East Coast. As we began conversing, it came out that he had recently returned from or was about to leave for an overseas speaking engagement. Intrigued, I began asking questions regarding the kind of work he did. The man explained to me that he was an economist, as well as an author. At some point he had relayed to me the title of his most recent book, so when he got out of my car, I was able to google him thoroughly. His resume was far more impressive than he let on. Not only had he penned many books, but he was also a world-leading expert in his field, frequently traveling the globe to give lectures. He had served as a speechwriter to multiple US presidents and was affiliated as a fellow with an Ivy League school. His accomplishments and activities went on and on, but I considered those the highlights. Except for one other…

Not long after he got in my car, the man asked about good places to go for a run in the area. As we discussed my preferred locations, and running as an activity in general, he threw out what I considered to be an impressive amount of mileage that he regularly logged. That might not sound like anything out of the ordinary or some major accomplishment, but did I mention he was in his 80’s?

As I spend a ton of time in my car each day, one of the most common things I see is people running, jogging or walking. They are my heroes. Few other things make me smile like that does, especially when I’m fighting what feels like the worst of humanity on the road. We all know how hard it is to run. It sucks. In the end it may benefit us mentally and physically, but in the meantime it hurts. It’s also time-consuming. Especially if you travel to different locations because you don’t want to stare at the same scenery every time. Psychologically that matters. Just to set aside the time, get yourself prepared and then take that first step towards hundreds more is a major accomplishment. It really is. I’m proud of every one of those people I see doing it every day, and I wish I could tell each of them. I do in my head as I drive by.

I try to run every other day, but just like everyone else, it’s a struggle. When I do, I refuse to listen to music or podcasts because I consider that time alone with myself imperative. There are always going to be distractions and noise, so why not take the time to acknowledge your thoughts when you have an opportunity to do so? Often, for me, those thoughts revolve around how much running hurts. Whether it’s the limitations my aging body is imposing on me or the elements I’m fighting at that moment, it’s hard not to dwell on them when they are staring you in the face. Generally, however, those thoughts prove to be beneficial.

Aside from time, one of my greatest adversaries when I run is the wind. This happens about a quarter of the time, and inevitably will play out the same. About a mile into my run, once the initial adrenaline has worn off, I’ll realize how much harder I’m working when I go in a certain direction. I’ll acknowledge that it’s the wind and then fight myself on seeking a route that spares me the struggle. After convincing myself that the extra difficulty will benefit me in the long run, I embrace it and hunker down. Then, either because I have too much time to think or because I’m looking for something to distract me from the wind’s brutal attack, I find myself revisiting the situation as a metaphor. I say revisiting because it’s the same thought every time.

Running itself is perhaps the most apt metaphor I’ve found for life in general. It sounds cliché, I know, but it’s true. As you take your first steps, you start off slow until you can build speed and momentum. Once you’ve found a comfortable pace, you settle in and maintain it with a specific goal or goals in mind. You’re going to face challenges along the way. Plenty of times I’ve finished what were supposed to be otherwise uneventful and routine runs bloody, bruised, overheated, frozen or before my intended destination. I never foresaw or expected any of those outcomes. As you get near the end of the run, you are infinitely more tired than you were when you started. You then finish either by attaining your objective, or by being forced out prematurely. Pretty emblematic of life if you ask me.

I get almost angry at first when I realize I’m running into the wind. It feels like I’m wasting energy and that my progress is stalling, but when I allow myself to stop and think about it, I become almost grateful. I will come out of it stronger. I’m still getting my mileage in, but my muscles are being given an extra challenge that will result in greater strength going forward. My mind is also being trained. Trained to face adversity with the knowledge that it’s ultimately beneficial and that I can accomplish more than I intend or hope by braving the storm. The same can be said for running uphill or in the rain. Some of the best races of my youth came in such conditions. Were it not for the wind, rain or elevation and the prior experience I had with them, I would not have performed as well as I did, advancing to the next course in the process. And the next course is important to me. The next course is where we get new scenery. The next course is where we learn new things about ourselves and our abilities.

So if you run. Or jog. Or walk. I’m proud of you. I know it isn’t easy. But it’s more than just whatever your initial goal was, and I hope that not only do you achieve that goal, but that you make it to the next course as well.

The UBeerOsopher

And now…a haiku:

All of your steps count

and if you listen to them

their math is profound

The most frequent question I get asked as an Uber/Lyft driver is, “What’s the craziest drive you’ve ever done?” There are a few that stand out, but my mind generally goes all the way back to an incident that happened the first weekend I started driving.

Some quick context first…

When I initially heard about Uber and Lyft, or ridesharing as they are collectively called, I thought it sounded incredibly sketchy. The notion of getting in a complete stranger’s car and letting them take you somewhere just didn’t really jive with my skeptical and oft times paranoid way of thinking. Eventually I found out that my uncle was driving for Lyft down in San Antonio and it softened my perception a little. A few weeks or months later, I decided to go ahead and check it out as a passenger while going to a Brewer’s game in Milwaukee. The car was nice, and the driver was professional, so I shed the rest of my skepticism.

That summer I was planning a nearly two-week road trip with my then 13-year-old son, and while considering ways to finance it, my uncle threw out the option of a sign on bonus. If I drove for Lyft and accomplished so many drives within a certain amount of time, using my uncle’s referral code, we would both make several extra hundred dollars. I decided to give it a try, and the rest is history. I’ve done nearly 7,500 drives in going on 6 years. But I almost didn’t make it past the second day.

As a passenger you can set your ride for multiple stops. Perhaps you want to take your kid to school and then go back home after you drop them off, or maybe you want to stop by the gas station for coffee on your way to work. When the ride comes through on the driver’s end, we can see that before we even accept or deny the request. The first time I encountered multiple stops was on this particular drive.

The initial pick up was at the public library downtown, and the passenger was not happy. She had a toddler on her side and was waving her phone in my direction. As she got in the back seat, she informed me that she had been attempting to call me. I can’t remember what the issue was as far as why she was allegedly trying to get a hold of me, but I politely informed her that no calls had come through on my end. Agitated, she looked out the window and I notified the app that she was in my car. I was to take her to Walmart, and then somewhere else. Home I’m assuming.

When we got to Walmart, she told me that it would only take a minute, so I said I would wait just past the entrance with my hazard lights on. It didn’t take just a minute. I sat awkwardly near the front of an extremely busy Walmart for I’m guessing at least 20 to 30 minutes. When she finally came out, she still had her child on her hip and approached the back seat. I always offer to help people load and unload groceries, but this was my first experience with the whole concept, so I just waited. If I remember right, it was only a small box and single sack.

At some point, as the woman was standing outside the back seat on the passenger side, a young lady from a group of people that had been standing nearby recognized her and walked over. I couldn’t see their faces or hear what they were saying, but I assumed that they were just friends or acquaintances. After a couple of moments, a skirmish broke out and they very rapidly moved around to the other side of the car. A Walmart employee that was in close proximity began moving toward the scene in an attempt to break it up and I grabbed my door handle to exit the car. The assailant took off and I have no recollection of where she went or even what direction she took off in. The passenger’s lip was split open and bleeding, and her wig was barely connected, hanging down well past her shoulders. As I continued to take in the scene, I noticed that a birthday cake she had apparently been in the process of placing in my car had fallen out of its box and gotten icing all over the blacktop, back seat and floorboard. The most shocking aspect of the entire incident, however, was that through it all her child had been on her hip.

The woman was clearly and understandably shaken up and the police were called. I don’t remember or know that I ever knew who called them. Presumably the victim or the Walmart employee. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, but it didn’t take long for several officers to show up. After speaking to the woman, one of them came up to me and said I might as well take off because it was going to be a while. I placed the woman’s items in a cart, wheeled them into her and then drove away.

When I try to glean some kind of meaning out of the whole thing, the closest I get is to think about how different my life would’ve been for the past six years had I let that experience scare me away from doing Uber and Lyft. It would’ve changed everything. My occupation. My schedule. My acquaintances. It would’ve changed my life. It was a side gig for several years, but these days I do it full time. The flexibility is hard to beat, and I love how it’s always something different. New places and new faces. Still, it really is amazing to me that I continued to do it after having had that happen right out of the gate. I’m glad I did, because overall its been a positive experience. I’m sure as far as that particular incident goes we could discuss what might’ve led up to that moment outside of Walmart, or maybe even find a way to apply human nature and ethics in general, but this particular post was more just for entertainment value. People love to ask me about crazy things that have happened to me as a driver.

I’ve had many sketchy or perplexing experiences over the past several years as a driver, and hopefully we’ll get to most of them in this blog, but I figured that was a good one to start with. The original. The mother of all my enthralling Uber and Lyft tales.

The UBeerOsopher

And now…a haiku:

it is one moment when without warmth or warning the winds of change blow