Date: 11 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 24
Hours: 3:15-6:45pm
Rides Given: 6
My project last Saturday night was to charge decent prices for my rides - at the very least, $1 per uptown/downtown block. I did adhere to this rule - I also set myself to JUST SAY NO to destinations above 59th Street - and I must say, both decisions worked in my favor. Also it was a busy night (one of the busiest of the year), so I could afford to be picky.
To combat anomie, I checked in with Gregg regularly and worked with him on a "family" goal, as it were. It helped to feel like I had an ally - someone to share the good news with, when I got rides, or look to for help in a dry spell.
I set a personal record for most lucrative ride ever ($50 to take a family from 7th Ave in the low 40s to 18th & Park). I also made quite a bit more per hour than I usually do.
Success, yes? Quite a turnaround!
And then I gallivanted off to a couple parties in Brooklyn (by subway), didn't eat a proper dinner, did drink a few glasses of "mistletoe punch," stayed up late, failed to sleep in the next day...and developed a nasty sore throat that's sidelined me for the time being. This afternoon it was hurting my throat just to ride a bike in the cold. So, we'll see. Number one priority is getting fully well. Once that happens, I'll reassess my attachment to the saddle, and the streets.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
An Uphill Battle
Date: 10 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 23
Hours: 5:00-7:30pm
Rides Given: 1
I am not even going to pretend that I made any progress today towards correcting yesterday's problem. But at least I have positively identified the problem, to wit, not charging enough.
Tonight I pulled a lady off the Penn Station line who was going to 80th between 1st and 2nd. Since I think it's of the utmost importance to spit out a price instantly (so people think I'm legitimate? so they don't have time to reconsider?), I told her $25. A second later, a businessman rushed up to me, wanting a ride, and I had to (chose to?) tell him no, because the lady was already heading towards me. Usually, self-selecting passengers are going short distances; chances are he was not going nearly as far as she was.
In any case - partly because of how traffic is in Midtown during rush hour, and partly because I made the mistake of taking 58th Street east from 6th Avenue - the trip took me an hour and ten minutes. JFC! I thought I was fine with it, right after dropping my passenger off, but as I rolled down Park and then 5th, not getting a ride, I did grow increasingly demoralized.
So. New plan. Pricing therapy. Think before you quote. If you need to spit out a quote quickly, at the very least charge $1 per uptown/downtown block. Tomorrow, try that. And maybe if you can actually get decently compensated for your work, you'll get all jazzed about doing it again.
Another idea that might help: Imagine someone else were giving the ride. Imagine you were getting work for a friend, and you wanted to make sure that person, whose time and energy you value deeply, was generously - or at least adequately - paid.
What can I say? Morgen ist ein neuer tag. (Tomorrow is another day.)
Day of Chronicles: 23
Hours: 5:00-7:30pm
Rides Given: 1
I am not even going to pretend that I made any progress today towards correcting yesterday's problem. But at least I have positively identified the problem, to wit, not charging enough.
Tonight I pulled a lady off the Penn Station line who was going to 80th between 1st and 2nd. Since I think it's of the utmost importance to spit out a price instantly (so people think I'm legitimate? so they don't have time to reconsider?), I told her $25. A second later, a businessman rushed up to me, wanting a ride, and I had to (chose to?) tell him no, because the lady was already heading towards me. Usually, self-selecting passengers are going short distances; chances are he was not going nearly as far as she was.
In any case - partly because of how traffic is in Midtown during rush hour, and partly because I made the mistake of taking 58th Street east from 6th Avenue - the trip took me an hour and ten minutes. JFC! I thought I was fine with it, right after dropping my passenger off, but as I rolled down Park and then 5th, not getting a ride, I did grow increasingly demoralized.
So. New plan. Pricing therapy. Think before you quote. If you need to spit out a quote quickly, at the very least charge $1 per uptown/downtown block. Tomorrow, try that. And maybe if you can actually get decently compensated for your work, you'll get all jazzed about doing it again.
Another idea that might help: Imagine someone else were giving the ride. Imagine you were getting work for a friend, and you wanted to make sure that person, whose time and energy you value deeply, was generously - or at least adequately - paid.
What can I say? Morgen ist ein neuer tag. (Tomorrow is another day.)
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Below Freezing
Date: 9 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 22
Hours: 4:30-6:30pm
Rides Given: 1
My one ride today was a surreal experience: An Ivana Trump type in ankle-length fur flagged me down at 34th and 7th. She wanted to go to Barami. She knew it was up 7th Avenue, but she didn't know how far up. She kept gesturing up 7th as if ought to just go that way! I guess where she comes from they don't have one-way streets. Anyway - the upshot was she wanted me to wait for her while she shopped so I could then ferry her and her copious purchases to the Hilton at 53d and 6th. So I did wait - about twice as long as she'd originally asked - and did take her to the Hilton. She hadn't asked for a price up front, so as I was riding up 6th I was pondering what to charge her. Though I knew the average pedicab driver would ask far more, I settled on $30 as an appropriate price. As it happened, neither of us ever said a word about the price - and she gave me $30.
That was decent, I suppose - $30 for an hour of my time (better than I do at my day job). But then I kept getting women telling me they wanted a "warm car," or it was too cold, and I got demoralized and decided to make one last short circuit up 6th and down 7th and then head back to the depot. Midway between 7th and 8th on 31st, at the crosswalk, a damn taxi honked at me, a millisecond after the light turned green. I yelled very loud and gave him the finger. Don't those dudes know that honking at someone not sealed inside a metal box is an act of war? An assault on the ears? And to what purpose? I probably made it to the intersection of 8th and 31st before he did. Sure, if we were out on the Great Plains I'd be eating his dust. But, guess what? There aren't any stop lights on the Great Plains. Or pedestrians. Or traffic jams. (Maybe every once in a while you run into a herd of buffalo crossing the road, which simulates the experience of all three.) So, Mr. Taxi Driver, take a chill pill. Move your fingers away from the panic button. You won't get where you're going any faster by making war on me.
Day of Chronicles: 22
Hours: 4:30-6:30pm
Rides Given: 1
My one ride today was a surreal experience: An Ivana Trump type in ankle-length fur flagged me down at 34th and 7th. She wanted to go to Barami. She knew it was up 7th Avenue, but she didn't know how far up. She kept gesturing up 7th as if ought to just go that way! I guess where she comes from they don't have one-way streets. Anyway - the upshot was she wanted me to wait for her while she shopped so I could then ferry her and her copious purchases to the Hilton at 53d and 6th. So I did wait - about twice as long as she'd originally asked - and did take her to the Hilton. She hadn't asked for a price up front, so as I was riding up 6th I was pondering what to charge her. Though I knew the average pedicab driver would ask far more, I settled on $30 as an appropriate price. As it happened, neither of us ever said a word about the price - and she gave me $30.
That was decent, I suppose - $30 for an hour of my time (better than I do at my day job). But then I kept getting women telling me they wanted a "warm car," or it was too cold, and I got demoralized and decided to make one last short circuit up 6th and down 7th and then head back to the depot. Midway between 7th and 8th on 31st, at the crosswalk, a damn taxi honked at me, a millisecond after the light turned green. I yelled very loud and gave him the finger. Don't those dudes know that honking at someone not sealed inside a metal box is an act of war? An assault on the ears? And to what purpose? I probably made it to the intersection of 8th and 31st before he did. Sure, if we were out on the Great Plains I'd be eating his dust. But, guess what? There aren't any stop lights on the Great Plains. Or pedestrians. Or traffic jams. (Maybe every once in a while you run into a herd of buffalo crossing the road, which simulates the experience of all three.) So, Mr. Taxi Driver, take a chill pill. Move your fingers away from the panic button. You won't get where you're going any faster by making war on me.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Winter Blues?
Date: 4 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 21
Hours: 2:00-3:45pm, 4:30-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
Today I made the mistake of getting all googly-eyed over the potential bonanza of a Saturday during the Christmas season, and hit the streets at the excessively early hour of 2:00pm. Ugh! I got one ride, from 6th Avenue in the 30s up to 14 West 57th, and then nothing for the next hour. So I went home, cogitated in my journal, ate lunch, ate crack, listened to "Children of the Lord" (by Slim Cessna's Auto Club) at top volume, and - pumped up by the crack and the music - went out again.
4:30-6:00pm was pretty good. I took three ladies to the tree, then a single lady crosstown on 53d Street, and then - wonder of wonders - a mother in Times Square flagged me down to take her three kids to their home at 57th and Park. She entrusted me with her children! She wasn't even in the cab with them - she gave them money to pay me when we got there. I have to say, I was flattered.
Later on I unwittingly gave a ride to more than three people - I didn't notice till the family was getting out at Bryant Park that there were two small children, not one. (The second child was very small.) I'm glad I didn't know. If I had I would have been anxious. As it was, I was just workin' hard to carry the weight.
So. Still in the doldrums, despite no plastic affixed to the cabin today. Just not very jazzed. Perhaps my verve will return, and perhaps it won't. Perhaps pedicabbing, like running, is only fun for me after I haven't done it in a while.
T+T+O+T+O
Day of Chronicles: 21
Hours: 2:00-3:45pm, 4:30-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
Today I made the mistake of getting all googly-eyed over the potential bonanza of a Saturday during the Christmas season, and hit the streets at the excessively early hour of 2:00pm. Ugh! I got one ride, from 6th Avenue in the 30s up to 14 West 57th, and then nothing for the next hour. So I went home, cogitated in my journal, ate lunch, ate crack, listened to "Children of the Lord" (by Slim Cessna's Auto Club) at top volume, and - pumped up by the crack and the music - went out again.
4:30-6:00pm was pretty good. I took three ladies to the tree, then a single lady crosstown on 53d Street, and then - wonder of wonders - a mother in Times Square flagged me down to take her three kids to their home at 57th and Park. She entrusted me with her children! She wasn't even in the cab with them - she gave them money to pay me when we got there. I have to say, I was flattered.
Later on I unwittingly gave a ride to more than three people - I didn't notice till the family was getting out at Bryant Park that there were two small children, not one. (The second child was very small.) I'm glad I didn't know. If I had I would have been anxious. As it was, I was just workin' hard to carry the weight.
So. Still in the doldrums, despite no plastic affixed to the cabin today. Just not very jazzed. Perhaps my verve will return, and perhaps it won't. Perhaps pedicabbing, like running, is only fun for me after I haven't done it in a while.
T+T+O+T+O
Friday, December 3, 2010
Rearranging My Reasons to Ride
Date: 3 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 20
Hours: 3:45-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
It seems that I have hit a sort of doldrums in my pedicabbing career: I'm no longer so new at it that simply getting a few rides is a thrill - and I'm not yet so skilled (or confident in my pricing) that I rake in delicious amounts of money every night. Frankly, I feel a bit daunted when I set a monetary goal higher than a hundred bucks. But then I feel like I'm copping out if I don't set a higher goal, given that this is the busiest time of the year. Perhaps if I raise my expectations more gradually I'll manage to take advantage of the bounty in the streets without driving myself batty.
Another detractor from my store of enthusiasm may be the fact that I've affixed a plastic shield to my pedicab - to protect my passengers from the cold - the past couple nights. It may be that it makes the ride more attractive to some prospects, but it also makes it harder to carry on a conversation. Sometimes I don't feel like talking, but often I do, and not being able to prevents the sort of energy exchange that helps me get high on riding. My last two passengers, who flagged me down outside the Sheraton, actually asked me to remove the plastic, so they could see the sights better on their way to Rosie O'Grady's. (Note to self: When coming from the northwest, drop passengers for Rosie O'Grady's at the corner of 7th and 46th. Do not attempt to get them right to the door. You will end up taking the scenic route, and hitting yourself.)
It may be also that something simply needs to change. I make the mistake, often, of expecting patterns that have served me for a while to continue to serve. In truth, I need to re-pattern fairly regularly, to keep myself jazzed. Maybe I need a new strategy, a new challenge, a new thought about what I'm doing out there in Midtown.
And now for the upbeat events of the evening:
1. I was having some problems with my knees, so I've started standing up on the pedals when starting from a stop with passengers in the back. That has occasioned some serious rearranging of cells in my quadriceps - and seems to have relieved my knees of their difficulties. So no more worries about crippling myself for the cause.
2. On my first turn past Penn Station, on the 8th Avenue side, the line minder told me to go ahead and hit the line - I'd probably get a ride, since it was very long at the time. What a wonderful thing, to be encouraged in my quixotic pursuit by a guardian of transportation orthodoxy! The line was indeed long and I did indeed get a ride - a spiffily dressed lady going to the London Hotel on 54th between 6th and 7th. When we got there she said, "You drive so carefully!" (Yes, she meant it as a compliment - and I took it as such. Safety first!)
3. When I first started pedicabbing I felt that my tendency towards rule-following - my desire to do everything exactly right - was a hindrance, since the general bad-ass pedicab-driver attitude towards traffic laws seemed to be, "If they get in your way, break 'em." Now that the cops are handing out tickets like candy canes, I see the advantages of knowing the laws and obeying them. I actually seem to be getting over my ticket phobia, because I do feel that though capricious and crackdown ticketing does happen, I at least have some measure of control over whether I end up with love notes from the men in navy.
So...that's the news from the trike lane: Where all the legs are strong, all the blinkers are working, and business - we hope - is about to rise above average.
T+T+(Z+A)+P+Y
Day of Chronicles: 20
Hours: 3:45-7:15pm
Rides Given: 5
It seems that I have hit a sort of doldrums in my pedicabbing career: I'm no longer so new at it that simply getting a few rides is a thrill - and I'm not yet so skilled (or confident in my pricing) that I rake in delicious amounts of money every night. Frankly, I feel a bit daunted when I set a monetary goal higher than a hundred bucks. But then I feel like I'm copping out if I don't set a higher goal, given that this is the busiest time of the year. Perhaps if I raise my expectations more gradually I'll manage to take advantage of the bounty in the streets without driving myself batty.
Another detractor from my store of enthusiasm may be the fact that I've affixed a plastic shield to my pedicab - to protect my passengers from the cold - the past couple nights. It may be that it makes the ride more attractive to some prospects, but it also makes it harder to carry on a conversation. Sometimes I don't feel like talking, but often I do, and not being able to prevents the sort of energy exchange that helps me get high on riding. My last two passengers, who flagged me down outside the Sheraton, actually asked me to remove the plastic, so they could see the sights better on their way to Rosie O'Grady's. (Note to self: When coming from the northwest, drop passengers for Rosie O'Grady's at the corner of 7th and 46th. Do not attempt to get them right to the door. You will end up taking the scenic route, and hitting yourself.)
It may be also that something simply needs to change. I make the mistake, often, of expecting patterns that have served me for a while to continue to serve. In truth, I need to re-pattern fairly regularly, to keep myself jazzed. Maybe I need a new strategy, a new challenge, a new thought about what I'm doing out there in Midtown.
And now for the upbeat events of the evening:
1. I was having some problems with my knees, so I've started standing up on the pedals when starting from a stop with passengers in the back. That has occasioned some serious rearranging of cells in my quadriceps - and seems to have relieved my knees of their difficulties. So no more worries about crippling myself for the cause.
2. On my first turn past Penn Station, on the 8th Avenue side, the line minder told me to go ahead and hit the line - I'd probably get a ride, since it was very long at the time. What a wonderful thing, to be encouraged in my quixotic pursuit by a guardian of transportation orthodoxy! The line was indeed long and I did indeed get a ride - a spiffily dressed lady going to the London Hotel on 54th between 6th and 7th. When we got there she said, "You drive so carefully!" (Yes, she meant it as a compliment - and I took it as such. Safety first!)
3. When I first started pedicabbing I felt that my tendency towards rule-following - my desire to do everything exactly right - was a hindrance, since the general bad-ass pedicab-driver attitude towards traffic laws seemed to be, "If they get in your way, break 'em." Now that the cops are handing out tickets like candy canes, I see the advantages of knowing the laws and obeying them. I actually seem to be getting over my ticket phobia, because I do feel that though capricious and crackdown ticketing does happen, I at least have some measure of control over whether I end up with love notes from the men in navy.
So...that's the news from the trike lane: Where all the legs are strong, all the blinkers are working, and business - we hope - is about to rise above average.
T+T+(Z+A)+P+Y
Thursday, December 2, 2010
My First Day of Christmas
Date: 2 December 2010
Day of Chronicles: 19
Hours: 4:45-7:30pm
Rides Given: 4
I spent the first part of today's session regaining confidence in my ability to drive safely. After giving my first couple rides, and making contact with nary an object besides the road, I felt fine about that.
The Christmas season is upon us! The tree lighting at Rockefeller Center happened on Tuesday, the police are out corraling street-crossers with caution tape at 6th Avenue in the high 40s/low 50s, some stretches of bike lane have been appropriated by pine-pushers - and Midtown is indeed busier than it has been. At least, this evening, I found it to be so between about 4:45 and 6:30. That's when I got all my rides. And I only had to solicit one set of passengers - the other three approached me! After 6:30, however, I scared up not a single fare, in two circuits of 6th & 7th Avenues. And I was very very hungry. So I decided to head home.
Now that I've turned off the WiFi-search function on my iPhone, it's become a hell of a lot more useful for finding locations my passengers need to get to. Google maps is now quick enough that I can type in a destination such as "disney store" or "sardi's," and get a pin dropped, at a red light. Today I even managed to confirm the location of the theatre where Chicago was playing, by iPhone. First I typed in "chicago" - and was told that "Walking directions could not be found between those two locations." Then I typed in "chicago musical" and voila! There it was! 49th between 8th and Broadway. In this case my passengers had already given me this information, but I was agonizing over whether to drop them at the corner of 49th and 8th or go up to 50th and then back down Broadway so I could drop them right in front of the theatre. Since Google maps indicated the theatre was none too close to 8th, I chose to go up and around. The advantage to me of going right up to the theatre is that now I'll be sure to remember precisely where it is and how to get there.
Speaking of knowing where things are: This evening I picked up two ladies, on 6th Avenue in the high 30s. One of them said they were going to 44th Street. "44th and 6th?" I asked. "Actually," she said, "we're going to Sardi's." Since I had taken a passenger there once before, I was able to say, with confidence, "That's a bit farther over. I can get you there." And I could! And I did! And when we arrived she told me that they hadn't been able to find a taxi driver who knew where they were going! So my slow but steady gathering of knowledge of New York night spots is paying off. May it swell with the season.
P+Y+T+U
Day of Chronicles: 19
Hours: 4:45-7:30pm
Rides Given: 4
I spent the first part of today's session regaining confidence in my ability to drive safely. After giving my first couple rides, and making contact with nary an object besides the road, I felt fine about that.
The Christmas season is upon us! The tree lighting at Rockefeller Center happened on Tuesday, the police are out corraling street-crossers with caution tape at 6th Avenue in the high 40s/low 50s, some stretches of bike lane have been appropriated by pine-pushers - and Midtown is indeed busier than it has been. At least, this evening, I found it to be so between about 4:45 and 6:30. That's when I got all my rides. And I only had to solicit one set of passengers - the other three approached me! After 6:30, however, I scared up not a single fare, in two circuits of 6th & 7th Avenues. And I was very very hungry. So I decided to head home.
Now that I've turned off the WiFi-search function on my iPhone, it's become a hell of a lot more useful for finding locations my passengers need to get to. Google maps is now quick enough that I can type in a destination such as "disney store" or "sardi's," and get a pin dropped, at a red light. Today I even managed to confirm the location of the theatre where Chicago was playing, by iPhone. First I typed in "chicago" - and was told that "Walking directions could not be found between those two locations." Then I typed in "chicago musical" and voila! There it was! 49th between 8th and Broadway. In this case my passengers had already given me this information, but I was agonizing over whether to drop them at the corner of 49th and 8th or go up to 50th and then back down Broadway so I could drop them right in front of the theatre. Since Google maps indicated the theatre was none too close to 8th, I chose to go up and around. The advantage to me of going right up to the theatre is that now I'll be sure to remember precisely where it is and how to get there.
Speaking of knowing where things are: This evening I picked up two ladies, on 6th Avenue in the high 30s. One of them said they were going to 44th Street. "44th and 6th?" I asked. "Actually," she said, "we're going to Sardi's." Since I had taken a passenger there once before, I was able to say, with confidence, "That's a bit farther over. I can get you there." And I could! And I did! And when we arrived she told me that they hadn't been able to find a taxi driver who knew where they were going! So my slow but steady gathering of knowledge of New York night spots is paying off. May it swell with the season.
P+Y+T+U
Saturday, November 27, 2010
A Calm, Sure Mind
Date: 27 November 2010
Day of Chronicles: 18
Hours: 4:30-6:15pm
Rides Given: 2
I was not feeling it today. I was not feeling alert. So I bowed out early. In part I'm reacting to an airless four-hour stint on the Megabus back from Boston this afternoon; in part I'm reacting to a blow to my confidence sustained last Tuesday as the result of a run-in with a rear-view mirror (my pedicab's canopy collided with an SUV's mirror, snapping the plastic away from the glass). I paid the SUV driver in cash, on the spot, for the damage I'd caused - which hurt, because I was on my way to an arranged ride that was only going to pay half that much. I really don't know how much the repair will cost. He said $100, $80 seemed fair to me, and on $80 we agreed.
It really wasn't a major incident, as incidents go (the glass didn't even crack). And yet it troubles me because it brings me smack up against the fact that a trike is a serious vehicle capable of causing serious damage, if not handled properly. Usually, when I am negotiating a narrow passage between two lines of cars, I move very slowly, checking behind me; this time, for a couple reasons, I neglected to take either precaution. And just like that, in a split second, I was in the midst of a major "Oh, shit!" moment. I suppose this taking the capabilities of my three-wheeled vehicle is a big deal for me because I started triking after walking all my life (with occasional episodes of biking, in cities other than New York); had I switched to triking from driving a motor vehicle, I'd probably already appreciate the harm I as a driver have the potential to cause.
And then, this afternoon, on 6th Avenue in the 40s, with three passengers in my cab, I got tapped on the back left wheel by a limo. What exactly happened? We had both just crossed the intersection - I think he sped up too much - I doubt the contact our vehicles made resulted from carelessness on my part. And yet, in a sense, any contact I make, while driving, with anything other than the road, is my fault, since it's my job to be aware of everything that's moving around me, at all times. Anyway - this harmless little tap freaked me out even more. What if I'm jinxed now? What if I'm now condemned to keep hitting things? Bullshit, of course, especially when written down and examined - but debilitating nonetheless. So here I am, off the road for the night, deeming it right to be kind to myself, to err on the side of caution - and enter the fray with a calmer, surer mind next time.
Day of Chronicles: 18
Hours: 4:30-6:15pm
Rides Given: 2
I was not feeling it today. I was not feeling alert. So I bowed out early. In part I'm reacting to an airless four-hour stint on the Megabus back from Boston this afternoon; in part I'm reacting to a blow to my confidence sustained last Tuesday as the result of a run-in with a rear-view mirror (my pedicab's canopy collided with an SUV's mirror, snapping the plastic away from the glass). I paid the SUV driver in cash, on the spot, for the damage I'd caused - which hurt, because I was on my way to an arranged ride that was only going to pay half that much. I really don't know how much the repair will cost. He said $100, $80 seemed fair to me, and on $80 we agreed.
It really wasn't a major incident, as incidents go (the glass didn't even crack). And yet it troubles me because it brings me smack up against the fact that a trike is a serious vehicle capable of causing serious damage, if not handled properly. Usually, when I am negotiating a narrow passage between two lines of cars, I move very slowly, checking behind me; this time, for a couple reasons, I neglected to take either precaution. And just like that, in a split second, I was in the midst of a major "Oh, shit!" moment. I suppose this taking the capabilities of my three-wheeled vehicle is a big deal for me because I started triking after walking all my life (with occasional episodes of biking, in cities other than New York); had I switched to triking from driving a motor vehicle, I'd probably already appreciate the harm I as a driver have the potential to cause.
And then, this afternoon, on 6th Avenue in the 40s, with three passengers in my cab, I got tapped on the back left wheel by a limo. What exactly happened? We had both just crossed the intersection - I think he sped up too much - I doubt the contact our vehicles made resulted from carelessness on my part. And yet, in a sense, any contact I make, while driving, with anything other than the road, is my fault, since it's my job to be aware of everything that's moving around me, at all times. Anyway - this harmless little tap freaked me out even more. What if I'm jinxed now? What if I'm now condemned to keep hitting things? Bullshit, of course, especially when written down and examined - but debilitating nonetheless. So here I am, off the road for the night, deeming it right to be kind to myself, to err on the side of caution - and enter the fray with a calmer, surer mind next time.
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