Baby you can drive my TAXI

Last June, at the conclusion of an epic meeting that dragged on until 2 in the morning, the commissioners voted to oust Machen.

The firing followed revelations that she'd hired her friend and roommate, former taxi driver Joao Tristan Bettencourt, to serve as her second in command. The issue wasn't just cronyism, it was Bettencourt's criminal record: He'd been convicted in 1989 of first-degree burglary for stealing jewelry from the home of a fare. (Bettencourt claims it was a case of mistaken identity and later had his criminal record partially expunged.)

Mayor Gavin Newsom, who'd tapped Machen, his former aide, for the Commission job, suggested her true offense was trying to reform the industry, telling the San Francisco Chronicle she "rubbed some people the wrong way." The whole surreal scene got weirder when the mayor quickly forced Machen's foes off the Commission and orchestrated her reinstatement. Political gossips Matier and Ross described the Commission as a font of "cloak-and-dagger intrigue."

Today Machen stands by her record. "Everybody hires people they know. Gavin knew me and hired me. You hire people who'll produce good-quality work, and that's what I did," she argues, hinting darkly that her opponents are unhappy that she's cracking down.

She remains a controversial figure — so much so that her critics have created a Web site, HeidiGate.com, which details her connection to Bettencourt, and the man's shady past, which includes being taken to small claims court for allegedly stiffing someone for $900.

At the same time Machen is seeking to salvage Proposition K, one of her major critics, Carl Macmurdo, the president of the Medallion Holders Association and a Yellow driver, is trying to scrap it.

The law makes no mention of what should happen to medallion holders who get sick or seriously injured or just grow old and can no longer drive. If they're physically unable to drive, should they be forced to turn their medallions in to the city?

Macmurdo says no. For him this is a far bigger matter than medallion fraud. "Heidi and her cohorts are fighting the disability issue," he complains, adding that Machen and her staff have given few breaks to disabled medallion holders. The city, he maintains, needs "a firm policy that someone doesn't have to drive if they're feeble."

For her part Machen says, "Everybody is trying to get an ADA [American With Disabilities Act] exemption," including people who are perfectly capable of safely driving a car.

In a business with no retirement plan, medallions predictably have become a type of pension for elderly cab drivers, and Macmurdo says ailing senior citizens who really shouldn't be behind the wheel at all are driving cabs because they're afraid of losing their medallions, and the money it brings in. Yellow Cab, he notes, suffered "a $14 million accident with an elderly driver who passed out at the wheel."

Macmurdo is pushing new legislation that would revamp Proposition K, making it more like the New York system, where medallions are bought and sold, and driving isn't required, an approach supported by UC Berkeley's Goldman School study. "We believe a system permitting the sale of medallions ... would provide a more equitable and improved taxicab industry," the report concludes.

The UTW, though, isn't sold on the idea, and neither is Machen: "I'm not convinced Prop. K is broken," she says, adding that restructuring the system "is a huge discussion."

Meanwhile, cleaning up the current medallion system will likely take years, or perhaps decades, if the story of Joseph Breall is any indication. Breall, a lawyer, has held medallion No. 207 since 1998, though, by his own admission, he's rarely transported people from point A to point B.

The Commission first came after him for failing to do his driving hours in 1999, and today, six years later, they're still wrangling with the guy in court. According to transcripts of a 2004 disciplinary hearing, most of the waybills Breall submitted were "basically void of any information," aside from his name, which was misspelled.

At the hearing Breall claimed that he took his cab out twice a week and drove it around to do errands, although he generally didn't actually pick up any fares. "Every once in a while I'd pick somebody up," he said, adding that he didn't write down the information on his waybills, and didn't usually "charge them any money."

Since Breall first went to court, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors has tweaked the law, allowing key cab company personnel — managers, dispatchers, etc. — to keep their medallions as long as they drive a mere 120 hours annually. The legal rewrite is a boon to Breall, who serves as general counsel to National Cab, making him a key employee and allowing him to do a minimum of driving.

"I'm not sure Prop. K ever worked that well," Breall says, adding that he's done nothing wrong. "It was written in the 1970s and it doesn't deal with the realities of the new millennium."

Or perhaps it's been gutted over the decades by people seeking to make an easy buck. Last month Machen's deputy, Jordanna Thigpen, requested budget money for two more investigators to "audit, investigate, and prosecute" Proposition K scams, as well as funds to cover expenses generated by the "extremely large volume of litigation" the Commission expects to engage in this year.