Friday, May 3, 2024

Feature/Profile

Compelling, in-depth coverage of the people and stories behind the news and their opinions.

Feature/ProfileGuest ContributionsOn the Road with Mike Murchison

This trucker aging like a fine wine

I find as I age, I don’t expect much from people anymore.

It’s not that I’m writing them off; it’s just that I have learned over the years that I have to deal with people where they are standing, whether they be high on the mountain or deep in the valley.

As a young man full of gas and gun powder, it was more a question along the lines of “What can they do for me?” Or, “How do I give my best ‘shuck and jive?”

I often shrugged off the concerns of others simply because addressing those concerns didn’t suit my needs. But that’s where aging has wonderful insights.

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Guest ContributionsLaugh a Little

Confessions of a Young Offender: The Great West Mountain Flood of 1967

During the summer of 1966, I started to lose interest in the things I enjoyed doing at the time, like building skyscrapers and other structures with my girder and panel sets and Stalox mini-brick sets, reading about the universe, swimming up at the Westmount pool, and being a general shit-disturber in school.

I wanted something better. Something more exciting.

I wanted adventure.

Then I learned that a group of my old buddies had taken up smoking. That sounded pretty kewl to me at the time, so I ventured up to the spot where they were known to hang out and started bumming cigarettes from them to prove that I, too, could be super-kewl.

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Feature/ProfileGuest Contributions

Honest Cabbie made my night

When he reached my destination, the meter was up around $16, so I handed him a 20 and said, “Keep the change.”

At least, I thought it was a twenty. But I had a roll of bills in my front pocket, had knocked back a few drinks, and didn’t have my glasses on.

At this point, the 10-year City Taxi driver separated the twenty into TWO $20 bills, held them up in the air and said nicely, “You want me to keep the change on this?

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Guest ContributionsOpinion/Column

Taxi industry insurer submission on the significance of training

Baird MacGregor, as one of the preeminent insurers of Taxi and Limo drivers in Toronto for more than four decades, takes the opportunity of this Review to remind the City of its commitment to design and implement a driver training and testing program. This program should include defensive driving and in-car components, as recommended by its own “Framework for Change.”[3]

By doing so, Toronto can help stabilize its critical passenger transportation infrastructure by keeping insurers engaged inside its boundaries.

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Feature/ProfileGuest ContributionsOn the Road with Mike Murchison

There is more than one kind of shortage making life painful for people in 2021

With the truck in the nearby Peterbilt dealership, I needed a place to stay. With no means of, transportation I picked the closes place. Across the 4 lanes of highway 395. A two mile walk from the dealership. It was there where the dealer rep dropped me off, and the adventure began.

It wasn’t the nicest motel. Somewhat rundown, questionable characters lurking around. Cigarette butts everywhere and vehicles came and went all hours of the night.

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Feature/ProfileTaxi industry news

The Rosenberg/Lipson murders: incident from the Mean Streets

Not long after I met Jesse at the Chuvalo-Felstein fight, a truly horrific happening transpired. Late on the night of April 22, 1977, Jesse’s friend Ian Rosenberg and a woman named Joan Lipson were brutally murdered in an upstairs bedroom of a house on Strathearn Boulevard. Some person who possessed a key to Joan Lipson’s home let himself in the side door, crept up the stairs, and ruthlessly shot the couple to death as they lay in bed. A housekeeper, who was trying to sleep in an adjoining bedroom, heard Joan Lipson cry out, “Ian, there’s someone in the room!” Then came the sound of gunfire.

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