Arranged Taxi Music

It's tough living in a land where the women are beautiful and sad. At the same time. It appears many don't know whether they are coming or going, going, long gone. They've fashioned these really amazing well defined masks out of loss and hopelessness and confusion and serious misgiving doubt using tears, wrapped in silence. Many are waiting for an arranged marriage.

The fathers get together and draw lots. They draw with ink and pastels and charcoal. The charcoal comes from a deep black well where their wives, tired of waiting, sing, "Give us a child, give us someone to love and protect and carry forever and cherish and spoil with benign neglect. Give us your future. We don't really care about love, it's all arranged. It's a matter of principle and practicality. Here, accept this man, this stranger into your heart and just give us a child."

Their daughter wraps their words around her heart. A constrictor in love's tangled jungle.

This explains why you never see women taxi drivers here. It's a male thing, these bright speeding tire spinning toys on wheels. Kinda like a Toy's For Tots game show. Live. Same goes for cafes where retired guys sit around all day long from opening to closing and play backgammon. Little wooden pieces carved from youth's forgotten toys.

Young macho guys spin their shiny yellow taxi wheels and play arranged symphonies in the horn section. The women know better which is why they live longer.

Why they may, given the heart, stand up and say, "I respect your ideas about arranged marriages, however, to be really honest with you, it's old fashioned conservative thinking. This is 2007 not 1987. I am a member of a new free thinking generation. I am not willing to be a victim, a willing victim of your narrow minded attitudes. I will choose my own friends, lover and companion, based on my needs. I know why the caged bird sings."