In Defense of Captive Viewing
Why you shouldn’t press mute in the backseat of a cab
By Lindsey Weber
Illustration by Ana Benaroya
A few nights ago, I split a cab home from north Brooklyn to south Brooklyn with a friend. When the cabbie asked the best way to get there, my friend promptly replied, “BQE to Wythe Ave and then down to Vanderbilt.” I had no idea. It wasn’t because of a bad sense of direction, I realize, it was because I am usually too busy watching Taxi TV to pay attention.
“Are you kidding me?” My friend asked, fiddling with her phone.
“Yeah, I guess,” I answered. “Don’t you love Talk Stoop?”
I was given a very mean, very judgemental look.
But I love Taxi TV. And maybe that’s because, despite loving TV, I always have a hard time paying attention. I watch so much TV with phone in hand or laptop in lap, but in the back of a cab, giving Taxi TV my undivided attention is perfectly mindless. (Lesson learned: Cabbies don’t always want to chat.) Game of Thrones episodes fly by while I’m checking email, Tweeting, or Googling “Game of Thrones guy one hand pooped his pants in The Other Woman” (A: Jaime Lannister). I mean, how many levels of Candy Crush could you beat during an episode of Oz? (Why am I watching Oz in 2014?) Meanwhile, I can tell you exactly what ABC 7’s pun-loving movie reviewer Sandy Kenyon thinks about Angelina Jolie’s performance in Maleficent (“Even in 3D, she is PG”). On the recent Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore rom-com, Blended: “Getting stuck in traffic is more entertaining.”
And while “taking too many cabs” is in my Top 5 New York City Sins (just below, “eating pizza for both lunch and dinner” and above, “shopping for groceries at Duane Reade”), it’s a sin I rarely regret. I’ll let you reach over and mute the screen, like most New Yorkers habitually do these days — tapping maniacally on the touch screen “OFF” button until the blaring stops, but I’ll still probably watch it out of the corner of my eye.
Taxi TV feels like real New York to me. With advertisements for “authentic” experiences and listicles that feature how to get the “best deal” or find the best hidden spot, it’s full of service-y recommendations for New York City people. An old ad for Jimmy Kimmel Live had him acting as cabbie, turning over his shoulder toward the viewer to make a joke about hot dogs or something: a meta reference acknowledging that, yes, we know you’re in a cab right now. Only in New York!
Taxi TV is also a dose of a New York I don’t often see, and one I can get without having to watch the local news. The “Toddler Received From Septic Tank” stuff that warms your heart, or the “Couple Moving Into New Apartment Finds Python in Couch” that doesn’t. (Both of these are real-life headlines I affirmatively tapped, by the way.) The news items of Taxi TV aren’t things that usually find their way into my browser, let alone onto my TV. I am one of those Millennial types who has ditched cable TV for all things streaming. And you can’t stream local news.
But even if I can’t convince you to keep the sound on while we’re in the cab, at least you’ll agree that nothing gets a dinner table of New Yorkers (who have otherwise nothing in common) more riled up than the mention of Taxi TV. Watching bits and pieces can give anyone, even the most antisocial types, crucial small talk. Taking the taxi to a stuffy uptown party? Mention Justin Bieber’s quarantined monkey. Or that four alligators were found “roaming” Long Island. People might not believe you, so make sure you have a backup answer for, “I saw it on Taxi TV on my way over here!” The initial complaints quickly turn into jokes about Talk Stoop’s host Cat Greenleaf and Del Frisco’s, the steak place we’ve all heard of a million times but have never actually visited. “How much does Del Frisco’s spend on in-cab advertisements per year, do you think?” And, “Does Del Frisco’s actually exist?” are all excellent conversations starters—and, as a bonus, neither one is about the weather.
