Taxi *Philo Thoughts* <https://www.facebook.com/philo.thoughtspage?__cft__%5b0%5d=AZUCUfDoCBeR3OPx0qKwGQBEzSUFx6HRLwNXDHAwYHJ501hslgG-zuGsAgI5aymGWxDBxOJpyFYPV-B3HFH9RhVe1Bi_qJes7HRvFSY20y6kZb60JhIMPv-GIxJiA_-pjRizIMjjzgZTVpvMjhtboiWuFIIaoupJlpRHhdfwmrwxT45tzALcVp7nxvt6FUeQGAw&__tn__=-UC%2CP-y-R>* via David Coffman- thanks David for this great introduction* · “Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think deja vu is for?” Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others. ~Timothy Leary (Source: book reference unclear/Consider one of Leary's most famous books: Turn on, Tune in, Drop out https://amzn.to/46aXkG3 <https://amzn.to/46aXkG3?fbclid=IwAR1KNoHKekVOl9s5iF4aI_HKtc-bcjxZHvsEu_XUsWlPt5FfZFPPdXc5v34> )” People kept telling me to not take the train to Minnesota. I keep doing it and it is amazing how many times this Chicago to Minneapolis train is late. But, hey, people have bad days, but they can live through it to some good days. I mean look at the Cubs- losers who became world champs. So, in May I decided to give the train another try. I get a lot of work and reading done on the train, although the promised internet has yet to show up. So go to Chicago Union Station for my Amtrak train. And before I even sit down, they are dropping bad news on me. Amtrak train to Minneapolis is running a little late. Then, I know we are in trouble when they announce they are looking to change equipment. Should I be emailing my friends for train equipment?? So, we start two hours late before we even get out of Chicago. And along the way we add another hour. My daughters are texting me that they love me, but nobody is going to pick me up at 2am in the morning- ‘get a taxi!”. Hummm, the issue is that my credit card was canceled due to some strange activity, so no Lyft or Uber. Google St Paul taxi- finally find one that will give me a ride. Arrive at 230am. Go to street and call taxi- give my address. They say it will take an hour or more for the taxi. BUT AMAZINGLY, the young man standing next immediately says that he just ordered a Lyft and he is going one block away from my address. And you can come free.. and just then his Lyft drives up and I am off. Wow, trains are late but luckily the mystery is out there caring for you. And then there is the Lyft driver- same month- who did give me a drive in Chicago. Hey, where are you from? I am from Somali. Wow, I use to live in Kenya and my daughter was born there. Hey, where was she born? She was born in Nairobi. Actually, the slums of Nairobi above a bar in Kawangware! The driver almost stopped. My daughters were both born in Kawangware and one just arrived in Chicago to start school. Are we both talking about the same slum? Yes, we roamed all over Nairobi making sure we were talking about the same place. Kawangware right here in Chicago. My third tax story is a little bit stranger. Order Lyft, she shows up and jump in. Start my normal taxi driver chatter and quickly notice that she has an accent. Say, where are you from? I am from West Africa- actually Cote d’Ivoire. I told her I had been to Cote d’Ivoire- the capital Abidjan, the President’s crocodile lake built for his opponents and the great huge Catholic Cathedral where the windows are the size of a building, Yes, yes, actually I am from Mali and my parents moved to Cote d'Ivoire to escape the troubles. Then it dawned on me that Mali is Muslim. Does that make you Muslim? Yes! I pray 5 times a day- just pull off the road. And your children? Muslim? Yes, two daughters Muslim but two sons are Christians. They said being a Muslim was too much- 5 prayers a day! The Christians only pray on Sunday. I love it! The world is becoming more and more global right here in Chicago. “Just find the Other” Although I miss Africa. Dick Alton, Kawangware, Kenya, 1980-1986. Daughter, Kay, born there and another, Christina, grew up there- we all consider it our home. -- Richard H. T. Alton ICA Global Fund Methodist Eco-Sustainability T/F T: 773.344.7172 richard.alton@gmail.com Make Plain the Vision, Habakkuh 2:2 Won't you be my neighbor?