Dear Diary:
Spare me your Uber, your Lyft and your Via.
Driverless cars? Not the new panacea.
I long for a Checker, an old-fashioned cab,
With a bald, grizzled cabby who still likes to gab.
7-Eleven’s have sprouted like weeds.
And bookstores on Fourth? Like anyone reads.
Unless it’s to text or to sext on a phone,
Which gives the illusion we’re never alone.
Well, don’t know about you, but by hook or by crookery,
I’ll be seeing Alberta downtown at the Cookery.
First, dinner at Hisae’s, then drinks at the Cedar —
Hah! Time keeps on clicking, can’t turn back the meter.
The city will morph into better or worse,
And we’re meant to go forward and not in reverse,
On this glorious cab ride, and that’s how it goes,
So ciao, Trader Vic’s, hello Trader Joe’s.