Edges of my Life.

Back to Note Books... © Andrew Leslie Phillips 011488 "When you're driving a yellow cab through New York City's streets at night,  sometimes you see your life in the bright lights and shadows - those you loved and those who died reflected in the streets. "Driving in New York at night behind the wheel of a yellow cab with your cheap old radio on the dash and cassettes rattling round -  Ginsburg and Gandhi - and a blue and white Greek take-out coffee cup and the New York Post." W hen you 've driven a cab through the good and the bad then you've seen life anew, the false and the true. You’ve lined up for the shape with your mates, white, black, yellow and brown, dollar bills in their hands: “here’s your trip sheet and keys. The cabs over there by the broken down fence, the one with the dents. Please take care”.

  Flying into Binghamton’s Johnson City airport and the trees are bare and gray and the green pines sprinkled with snow. It’s still winter here in the northeast, early spring.  Stanley’s leaning against the wall - one knee up - leaning back with his hand on grandson Nathaniel’s shoulder and he points and Nathaniel breaks out in a toothy smile like Sponge Bob.  He’s chirping like a happy bird as we slip past the sliding door outside into the cold.  The car smelt bad from cigarette smoke. I’d forgotten. I’ve been away in Asheville, North Carolina for a week. They hardly smoke at all down there. I saw one woman - the same woman twice - huddling in a corner outside the Kress Emporium on Patton Avenue, smoking. The building is full of individual stalls of high quality craft and art. It costs $400 a month to rent a hundred square feet of floor and wall space. There was a waiting list.The owners of the space take a percentage. It was crowded and the tourist season...