Where is Chubby? I’m worried! The photo above is from inside his cab, which always makes me smile.

Chubby (real name: Ellis Miller) is my favorite cab driver. I happened into his cab one early morning on my way to O’Hare, and it was one of the best cab rides I ever took. Turns out, Chubby (a nickname he took, after Chubby Checker) is a retired musician (who used to run a dating service out of his cab) who now gives lots of flat-fee cab rides to the airports. If you put his number in your cell phone (he practically holds you hostage in his car until you do so) you’re armed with a guaranteed reliable ride to the airport as long as you book ahead, plus he brings you coffee (made to your liking) and a donut if you ride between 6 and 10am. 

A real bonus: Chubby offers relationship advice. I’ve received some great tips from him during many different airport runs during the past year. We’ve laughed at many situations, and he’s told me a ton of stories about other passengers, and about his own life - and I’ve shared plenty about mine. 

So why am I writing about Chubby tonight? This blog is usually about mindfulness, and yes - Chubby usually helped ground me in the moment with wonderful laughter and wisdom. But my concern tonight is more serious: Tonight I tried to book him for an airport ride for a trip later this week, but his phone number is not working. This is bizarre, since most of his business is predicated upon people knowing his phone number. I’m really concerned. 

His cab # is 3521, and I think that while it is painted yellow, he is not with Yellow Cab; with the City of Chicago, he is listed as being part of Kenita Transportation, Inc. and I am confident that he owns his car outright. The last time I saw him, he was about to upgrade to a larger vehicle so he could do more chauffering. 

If you’ve had the pleasure of riding with Chubby, or know anything about his whereabouts, please let me know. It just seems odd that he would let his phone number go, and I hate to lose a friend and service provider like him if it’s a simple thing like a changed number. Hopefully that’s all that’s happened. Thanks for reading this and sharing it with anyone who might be able to help!

UPDATE: I learned today that he IS affiliated with Yellow Cab so I’m trying to contact them to see what’s up. But I’d still love to hear anything folks might know… 

UPDATE: Spoke to Yellow Cab and they can’t tell me anything. “They drift in and out, they’re businessmen,” their office manager told me. She insisted she couldn’t tell me anything. I pulled out all my professional interviewing tricks but nothing worked; she is a total pro and didn’t let a single detail slip. Damn. Where are you, Chubby? 

chicagoawesome:

After much hand-wringing and consternation, we - the trustees of the Chicago Chapter of the Awesome Foundation, would like to award $1000 (in cash, in a brown paper bag) to our friends at Little Free Library!

Little Free Library sets up adorable homemade library boxes around town that…

breakingillusions:

Cosmogony

i’m so excited to hear a new song by Björk!

Last night, Joe and I went to see Mucca Pazza at James Park in Evanston. We met up with some friends and had a picnic under a cloudy sky, which the forecasters said would soon yield us some sun before nightfall.

Wrong! The crazy punk circus riotous music seemed to conjure up the darkening, swirling clouds, and the crowd’s attention slowly turned from stage front to skyward. It was hard to stay present with the music with the storm gathering overhead, and eventually we gave in; the music swelled and got even crazier as the storm exploded in thunder and lightning and rain and everyone jumped to their feet and grabbed their stuff - it was hilarious and scary all at once!

And yet, I didn’t feel all that scared. It was so fun! I felt like it was just a big adventure that we were all in together, and the music was our score. It was a total riot. Sharing that moment with everyone had me feeling very connected with the crowd, with the community. We were all there together in that moment, under that crazy sky, with that crazy music. It was awesome.

…because it is so deliciously of the moment. talk about BEING HERE NOW! levi is wonderful. he is writing something that is so right in the exact moment that chicago is enjoying TODAY. i hope you read it, roll it around in your head and on your tongue, and love it as much as i did. xo

ivebeenreadinglately:

Blame P.G. Wodehouse, whose character the Honorable Galahad Threepwood once said of a Mint Julep that “it sidles up to you as innocent as your baby sister, then it slips its little hand in yours and the next thing you know, the judge is ordering you to pay the clerk of the court $50.” In a…

Here I am, at The Hideout. The nice people here gave me a chair because of my broken toe (and because someone asked them to). The lights are dreamy. So is the company. Nice to hang with all my pals. I am here. Here is now. Here is everything.

This tree is where it’s at.

During the end-of-year holiday season, it’s easy to get caught up in the rush and miss so much of what’s right under my nose. Having a Christmas tree is a great way to ensure I take some time every day to get centered.

I fill my tree to bursting with ornaments that date back to before I was born, and light it up so bright it fills the room with a rich glow even with the rest of my lights off.

Then every night I sit in wonder, marveling at each little work of art, or taking my glasses off to enjoy the blurry multicolored glow. I can’t get enough of it. My breathing slows, I feel calm and mellow - it’s therapeutic. Quietly joyful.

So will y’all think I’m nuts if I never take this tree down again?

The Internet (by Daniel X. O’Neil)

Here we are, The Internet. I love these folks. There’s (from R to L)  Andrew, who makes Gapers Block and assorted other things. There’s Scott, who works with Andrew and Naz on Weightshift projects and makes gorgeous Interhoods. And there’s Sandy, who is also the Puzzler, and now works with EveryBlock. Mmm hmm. These are my pals. These are the guys I share a workspace with, The Internet. Well, Sandy’s moved out today. But together, we are still The Internet.

I’m having a bit of a crisis of confidence today. There’s no use getting into the details but suffice to say, I’m having a moment of BLERG about my career. I know it will pass. It helps to be among friends. So here I am, with my pals. At The Internet. XO

Huggable.

Why yes, I am.    I mean, I think that goes without saying.

But so are my clothes hangers. Some of them, at least. (I admit I’m a fan of the Joy Mangano Huggable Hangers.) And if I give in to my Vicodin-induced shopping desires, they ALL could be. Because I’m still here, on my couch, reclining and recovering from breaking my pinky toe.

When I really don’t feel well - when I feel so unwell I can’t seem to form a coherent thought - I watch home shopping TV networks. I can’t stop myself. I rarely buy anything, but I’m enthralled by the sales techniques and the enthusiasm. And today? It is nearly impossible to resist buying this awesome collection of 120 hot pink clothes hangers, which promise to transform my tiny, cramped closet into a thing of color-coordinated, super-organized beauty.

Sigh. Because I’m weaning off the pain pills, I have enough resolve to stop myself. My closet is a little cramped, but it’s fine. I can live without 120 new hangers, and I can use that $100 to do a bunch of other fun things. I’m OK right here, in my teeny apartment, with my cramped closet. Here. Still on the couch.

I think I’ll turn off the TV.