Memories of riding the school bus

My rant about my high schoolers taking -- or, rather, not taking -- the bus got me remembering.

At right is the kind of bus they would take.

If they took the bus.

But I suppose that's not the picture that comes into your mind when you think of taking a school bus.

You probably see something more like this:

This is the kind of bus I took nearly every day in high school.

Even as a senior. (Oh! The horrors!)

The bus came by our house at 6:50am. We had to be out at the corner or the bus would pass us by -- there was none of that stopping in front of someone's house and honking the horn.

The bus driver's name was Kim. Kim had long, golden hair -- not platinum -- more of a brassy gold, but falling straight all the way down Kim's back. A lot of girls would have killed for hair like that in the early '70's -- but they wouldn't have wanted Kim's beard. Kim, you see, was a man.

Kim drove a standard issue, yellow school bus. But it did have a giant speaker in the front of the bus topped by an 8-track player.

There's nothing like listening to King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid Man" at threshold of pain volume at 6:50am. Or "Yer Blues," from the Beatles' "White Album." C'mon, sing along with me now: The eagle picks my eye / The worm he licks my bones / Feel so suicidal / Just like Dylan's Mr. Jones....

Don't feel like singing?

Or eating again any time soon?

One time, toward the end of my senior year -- maybe even after classes were completed -- I was at a local deep dish pizza joint, having beer and pizza with the rest of my honors English class... and our teacher.

(I forgot to shoo the kids out of the room this time, didn't I? Yes, this would have gotten the poor man fired today -- but he was a wonderful teacher. And this was over 30 years ago. Things really were different then.)

Anyway, there we were, the über nerds and our teacher, and I spotted Kim the bus driver at the bar by himself.

I was surely the only bus-rider among our group. This was a wealthy community. Most of these kids had their own cars. I don't mean that they had access to family cars. They had their own cars.

Not me, you understand: I rode the bus.

I invited Kim to come over and join our group.

He was hammered.

And it got a bit awkward when he started groping the head cheerleader with one hand and the Student Council Secretary with the other. But they quickly disabused him of whatever notions he had and the party continued without further incident.

I've always liked bringing people together....