Visited the oldest in Katy, Texas. She started her new job a few weeks ago and she needed her car. I drove it down, spent a couple days with her (really a few hours given her work schedule) and then it was time to go to the airport. I scheduled the cab the day before and it was right on time. That was the last thing that went as expected.
The cab was a clean Chrysler and as I got in I asked, is this a metered ride or a flat fee? Cabbie said, do I look like a Muslim? And how do you like me now? I said, better all than the time. That was mistake and the ride went down fast.
I learned that he was a member of the so called Texas Militia which supposedly had headed off the building of a mosque in Katy. Apparently the Muslims had purchased land with the intention of building a mosque, but he and some other members of the militia ran pigs over the property and conducted a pig roast on adjacent land. To make sure the Muslims understood what was going on a few letters were sent which made it clear the roasts could continue as long as necessary.
The cabbie claimed it worked. And that it happened.
I learned about how he used to hunt and fish all over Katy. He pointed out where he shot rabbits and deer. We talked about church a bit and he told me how at Sunday school a couple weeks back there was discussion about ideas and he offered this gem: the church should give up some of its collection and use it to support the cabbie’s Buy Back America Plan. The leader asked what he meant and the cabbie explained it. The leader asked to talk with the cabbie about it after church.
I asked the cabbie did the leader chat with you? No, he said. I bet. I then asked to what church he belonged. He said he didn’t really belong to a specific church and just went from church to church as the spirit moved him.
Or maybe each time he visited he was asked not to come back for a while. Churches are well within their rights to do that.
The Buy Back America plan is the cabbie’s scheme to raise money from ”patriots” and use the funds to buy back gas stations, convenience stores, and other businesses from foreign ownership. The cabbie has been going from bank to bank asking to set up an “escrow fund” for the pledges he has received, but so far no bank has been willing to open the account.
About this time I asked, what airport are you taking me to and he said, right you are going to Hobby and pulled off the interstate and headed the right direction.
Did I mention the cabbie suffered from Tourette syndrome and frequently would let loose with a whistle? I haven’t mentioned the wrap around sunglasses, long hair and scraggly beard have I?
Then on the approach to Hobby we drove through a very rough looking Asian neighborhood and we talked about or rather he talked about immigration. And hookers. Me, I just listened and boy did I hear it all. Some of which I agreed with, some I thought was a bit over cooked.
Youngish man with a difficult disease who by all indications is lacking in book smarts, but I bet he can hunt and he obviously can work. Good driver. Self-employed. Clean car which he is paying off, but he is troubled. Troubled by how the world he knew is gone and having difficulty adapting to or maybe accepting the change. Proud to be a Texan, but every store he visits is owned by folks who don’t understand this is his homeland, how proud he is to be from right there and don’t speak his language.
Gosh, I was confused listening to him and was confused by his feelings, yet I have empathy. Here I am not working, looking back at the missed chances of my life (some to make “real” money some just to make better decisions some just to be a better Christian) and I’m a little frustrated. Me! Mr. Optimistic, wakes up every day with a pray of thanks on his lips. Goes to bed with another prayer of thanks. Like Steven Curtis Chapman some days I pray with every breath.
Do I agree with my cabbie? No. Did he scare me? No, but I bet he scares some. Mostly I think he misses the world he knew as a child when everyone he came into contact with feared his God, worked hard, was a Texan, from there and spoke English. Unfortunately, that world is gone for now and my cabbie misses it. However, it is fair to ask, did we gain enough from all this immigration to offset all the chances the cabbie never had, all the change he has had to deal with, and the impact it has had on his life and the lives of millions like him?
I don’t know the answer. Do you?
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