Lyft Rides on a Nice Bright Day

by Ernie McCray

I called for a Lyft ride
for a trip to see a doctor
who had performed cataract surgery
on my eyes,
a bit shaky
because I was dealing with a degree
of brightness
unlike I had ever seen,
like I was staring at the sun.

And when my ride arrived
I got the feeling everything was going to be all right
because, as I fiddled around
with my aging hands
trying to strap myself in,
I found myself, simultaneously,
singing along
with the Spinners
on my driver’s radio,
joining in
with my basso profundo
just as they transitioned from the verse to
“Could it be I’m falling in love
with you baby”
and the man at the wheel started gittin’ down, too,
and the next thing I knew
he and I,
with a smile and a fist-bump,
began chewing the fat,
just like that,

chatting about

where we’re from

and about our undying love of jazz

and stuff like that,

like long-lost friends.

And when I got to the doctor,

the day continued to be a delight

as she lessened some of my concerns

regarding my eyesight,

informing me that for years

I’d been looking through lens in my eyes

that made me see everything

as though I was wearing sunglasses

and what I was seeing now

is how bright it actually was.

Oh, did that ever give me a buzz

like good news always does

but that didn’t last too long because

the dude who chauffeured me home

had doused himself with some kind

of cologne

that was so funky

and nauseating it made me wonder where in the hell I was.

When I got to my house

I walked through the front door

apologizing to my nose and my lungs,

wondering if I’d ever breathe the same again

in this new, brightly lit world, I was now living in,

but I had to set the smelly ride aside

and get ready for another Lyft ride

to a fun event

and when the car showed up

I was in a mellow mood again

and, with a grin,

I got in,

kind of fooling around,

making fun of myself

with all the old man fumbling

I was doing,

commenting to the driver,

a very friendly looking young man,

about when

I could just open a car door

and slide in

with no drama,

no grunting like I was setting an Olympic record

in weight lifting,

no anxiety about smacking somebody

with my cane,

as I try to figure out where and how I can put it down

and get buckled in

before the next time change.

And the operator of the car said, joyfully,

as he, thankfully, helped me get myself properly arranged,

something like:

“I can’t get you where you’re going

if you’re going to make me laugh”

and that got us chuckling a bit

which we did for most of the trip

because, as it turns out, he’s a standup comedian,

making a living at it,

a regular at the Comedy Store,

and having performed there many years ago,

myself,

we talked about the craft,

how I almost chose the path

he’s taken

but didn’t like the idea of being on the road

away from my family

as a comic must –

and he chimed in

that that’s been a problem for him,

but making people laugh, for him,

is a calling,

something he just

can’t give up,

and he spoke glowingly of a woman he loves

who has stood by him

on his journey.

And as I listened to him

I felt they will make it work

as, for a few years,

they have been.

What a day.

At the end of the evening
I realized
I had enjoyed two of the
nicest rides I’ve ever had.

And two out of three
ain’t bad.

I see it,
with what we’re going through
in our country
right now,
part of grabbing
any joy there is
to be had.