Tag Archives: writing

A Day in the Life of Mr. Bus Driver Man Sir

This is a true story. It is not a condensed version of events that happened over a period of months. It was last Wednesday.

Buckle up, and don’t get up until the bus is completely stopped!

I woke up to my 4:44am alarm as usual. I fed the cats, made my decaf, got ready for work. In the driveway, I realized I had forgotten something. Coffee? Cooler? Whatever it was, I went back in to get it. I was already cutting it close, and at that time of the morning, traffic increases exponentially by the minute. I save the toll road for days like this. It’s my ace in the hole. I made it to work with one minute to spare. Well worth the $3 toll.

I picked up and dropped off my elementary students without incident. On to the middle school route next. Dang, I forgot to pack an N95 face mask! I am super sensitive to fragrances (a topic for another day). I quickly opened most of the windows. Thankfully the weather was cooperative.

At the first stop I was nearly knocked out of my seat by the synthetic chemical cloud of fragrances coming off the kids. My eyes watered, head throbbed, throat tightened. I turned on the fans and prayed for a green – too late. Stuck at a red light when the stench caught up to me. Finally the light turned green. I picked up the rest of the kids and crawled through rush hour traffic to school. As they exited, the odors lingered, but I was able to catch my breath.

My first high school stop was a repeat of the middle school stop. I just drove and breathed when I could. Left turns were my best friend. I’d get a blast of fresh air in my face from my side window.

After I dropped them off at the high school, I headed to another elementary school for a field trip. On the way, I saw that HWY 71, the main east/west route was closed due to the vice president being in town.

I picked up my group and told the teacher we had to take back roads thanks to the VP. She groaned and said, “Not again!” I made it to the farm with a group of kindergarten kids and several parents following in their cars.

I parked the bus and went for a walk. I didn’t pack lunch because my paper said return at noon. My PM route starts at 2:40, plenty of time to get lunch and relax.

My group came back to the bus around 11:30. I started heading back to the school when the teacher said, “Isn’t the park the other way?”

“Park? What park?” I asked.

“We’re having lunch at the park. You didn’t know?”

“My paper doesn’t say anything about a park. Just tell me where it is.”

We went to the park and I went for another walk. I was getting hungry, so I ate the protein bar that I packed, just in case.

I returned to the bus barn at 1:30. Yay! I still had time to get lunch.

I went to the local food co-op, ate lunch and chatted with a fellow musician who works there.

Back to work.

The elementary kids must’ve had sugar sandwiches for lunch. They were bouncing off the walls. At the first stop, a kindergarten kid got up to exit the bus and said, “I can’t find my shoes.”

“Why did you take them off? Never mind. Try to find them.”

The kid’s dad waited outside while he looked under the seat, and other kids climbed over him to get out of the bus. No shoe. Dad encouraged him to look again. He came up with one shoe. Meanwhile, another student said, “I lost my ball. It rolled under your seat. Can you get it?”

“Just a minute.”

I got down on my hands and knees looking for the other shoe. I lifted backpacks, asked kids to lift their feet. No shoe.

I looked at the clock. Six minutes had passed! I asked the dad if his son had another pair of shoes at home. I told him I’d find the shoe after the route and have it for him the next day. I got back in the driver’s seat and closed the door. The kid behind me asked again for her ball. I said, “Sorry, I’ll have to look for it later.”

At the last stop, another student said, “My friend lost her creature toy. It has eyes in its mouth.”

I said, “That’s a great description and I’ll know it if I see it. If I find it, your friend can get it tomorrow.

After the last kid exited, I did my post-trip bus inspection. I found no sleeping kids, no backpacks, no creature with eyes in its mouth, but I did find two things. A ball and a shoe! The shoe was under the back seat on the right. The first shoe was found under the front seat on the left, 35 feet and 53 kids away. How? No sense in trying to figure it out.

By the time I arrived at the high school I was exhausted, exasperated, and frazzled. I just wanted to savor the twenty minutes before the high school kids came to the bus. As soon as I stopped and secured the bus, one of my students came to the door. I told her it was too early. I had to go into the school to wash up after crawling around on the bus floor looking for a shoe.

When I returned to the bus a few minutes later, she was still there, patiently waiting.

She said, “Please don’t ever quit your job. You’re the best bus driver ever! You settle everybody down before we leave every day. You’re just awesome.”

The stress of the day evaporated.

I smiled and said, “Thank you.”

She said, “No, thank you!”

Robocars, Cave Crystals, and The Return of InvisiBob

A few years back we were told to open the door at bus stops even if no one was there waiting for the bus. The GPS tracks the bus route and marks where and when the service door is opened. If there’s a question about whether the driver made a stop at the right time, the supervisor can view the route and stops on the computer.

I began opening my door at all the stops. At one stop, a student asked me why I always opened the door when no one ever got on the bus there.

I said, “There’s an invisible boy at this stop.”

Just then, a girl said, “His name is Bob. Bob, you can sit with me.” She moved over to make room for the invisible Bob. We shortened his name to InvisiBob.

Every morning at that bus stop, the kids would say, “Good morning, InvisiBob!” Sometimes we could almost hear his dog InvisiBubba whimper as Bob got on the bus.

Fast forward a number of years to a new route, new kids, new bus, same wacky bus driver, similar scenario.

A child asked me why I stopped at the empty bus stop.

I said, “We just picked up an invisible boy. His name is InvisiBob. Say hi to InvisiBob.”

The kids said, ”Hi, InvisiBob!”

And so it went. InvisiBob became part of our morning routine.

After a while, the unused stops are dropped from the route. Before we got to that point, I told the kids that InvisiBob would soon be transferring to the InvisiBus.

The next day, as we approached the stop, I asked, “Can anyone see InvisiBob?”

One student replied, “No, but I see InvisiJimmy.”

I was intrigued.

“Oh? Who is InvisiJimmy?”, I asked.

The child said, “She’s InvisiBob’s girlfriend.”

———————————-

If you’ve driven in Austin lately, you’d see that there are way more Waymo self driving robocars than I care to count. When they first came around a couple of years ago, they snarled traffic, stopped in the road for no reason, and generally made nuisances of themselves. They were removed from the road (Yay!) only to return some time later. It seems they’ve ironed out the bugs. They stop and go when they’re supposed to, and they even use turn signals. AND… They stop for school buses!!! That’s more than I can say for many human drivers out there. People, take note. You can learn from these weird machines. Next time I see one waiting for me to extinguish my loading lights, I’ll tell the kids, “InvisiBob got his license. He’s driving that white car! Wave to InvisiBob!”

———————————-

Raylin was a 4 year old pre-K student on my route a few years ago. She would sometimes get very cranky in the afternoon, refusing to get on the bus. Her older brother would often pick her up kicking and screaming, and put her in the seat.

One afternoon, Raylin was extra grumpy. Her substitute teacher was losing patience with her. I said, “Leave her here. We’ll be okay. “

I picked up Charlie, my trusty old guitar, and played an upbeat bluesy rhythm. I sang, “Raylin, getting on the bus. Raylin, getting on the bus. Raylin, getting on the bus. Raylin, gonna ride with us.”

Raylin’s frown started to turn upside down. I kept singing. Raylin put one foot on the bottom step. I sang some more. Raylin slowly climbed the steps and even cracked half a smile. I sang until she sat down and left the grumpies behind. The kid had a great smile.

Last year, I had two siblings on my high school route. Their stop was near Raylin’s school. I saw the resemblance in their faces. One day I asked them if Raylin was their sister. They looked at me and said, “How did you know that?” I told them what I just told you.

They said, “Yeah, she’s mean right after she wakes up.”

A few months ago I had a field trip to Inner Space Cavern. Did I mention that I love field trips? I picked up a group of second graders from Raylin’s school. I saw a familiar face, but I couldn’t be sure. Three years had passed, and young kids do a lot of growing in that time.

Was the adorable girl with the radiant smile Raylin? I had my doubts. This girl was all smiles and hugs and holding her friend’s hand.

We arrived at the Cavern and I did what I always do on field trips. I parked the bus and caught up with my group to explore with them.

As we were boarding the bus to return to school, I asked the teacher if the girl three rows back was Raylin. It was her!

I said, “Raylin, do you remember me?”

She said, “No. (pause) You look different.”

It occurred to me that she rode my bus in pandemic times when we all wore masks. Everyone looked different in full face.

I picked up Charlie and sang, “Raylin, getting on the bus…”

Raylin’s smile lit up the bus.

At a red light on our drive back to school, a boy in the front seat put his hand out and said, “This is from Raylin.”

The boy dropped a small crystal in my hand. Outside the cavern, the kids go panning for gems. Raylin gifted me her crystal. What a sweet, beautiful gesture.

On my high school route, I told Raylin’s siblings about the field trip and the gift. I gave them a copy of my book Ellen’s Ride to pass along to Raylin. They reported back that she loved the book.

And I’m reporting to you that I love my job.

Peace,

Jimmy Joe

aka: Mr. Bus Driver Man Sir

25 Years Later

I received my 25 years of Service pin. That’s right, I’ve been a school bus driver for a quarter of a century. I’d like to talk about what led me to become a school bus driver as the last century was coming to a close.

I moved to Austin in 1995 when I was 26 years old. I had a few guitars, an amp, some books and clothes, and a cat named Wendyl. I packed everything, including Wendyl, into The Beast, my 1969 Ford Econoline van, and drove down to Austin. Seeing the Austin City Limit sign felt like coming home to a place I’d never been.

I worked a bunch of temp jobs until I was hired by Kamico, a small family owned business that created educational books. My duties included running the Xerox, binding books, and spending time with the owners’ infant son. I would walk him around the block and sing to him.

The business was growing. We moved from the house into a commercial building. The new growth and rules were not a good fit for me and I was getting real grumpy. The owner, Kathy, offered me a great exit. She paid me to write music for some audio stories in exchange for my resignation. I jumped on it and dove into it. Kathy even bought me a keyboard to help with composing.

As my writing contract was coming to an end, I joined a country band. It was a new experience. I had to learn fifty songs in a week. We played regional and road gigs. The road gigs were usually about two weeks on and a week or two off. It was fun and a great learning experience, but I wasn’t earning enough to cover my expenses. I worked a plethora of odd jobs. I built playscapes, fixed cars, installed floors, moved furniture. I bought a broken carpet cleaning machine at a garage sale for $10. I fixed it and cleaned carpets. I eventually traded it for recording time in a studio. I delivered lunches for a summer youth program. I usually had a teenage helper ride with me, so I got to hear what was going on in the local scene. That was a good job, but it was only for the summer. I also picked up some work writing and arranging music, but it wasn’t enough.

I turned 30 in 1998. I was tired of hustling random music and non-music gigs. I was putting way too much energy into the non-music work. I needed a day job.

I scoured the newspapers (newspapers were like web pages, but made from dead trees.)

I called about and/or applied for ten different jobs in ten different fields. I had experience in all of them. I was also not excited about any of them. On one call back, I was asked if I was looking to grow with the company. I said, “No, I’m just looking for a job to support my music habit.”

I continued scrolling until one ad jumped out at me: ‘School Bus Drivers Needed. Paid training and CDL.’ For the first time in my job search, I was excited! My trainer was a very kind soul named Doris. Same name as my mom, but pronounced differently. We joked about that. When I was getting ready for a trip to see my folks, my trainer would say, “Tell Dah-ris that Dooris says hello!”

My first day driving the bus was a doozy. We had torrential rains and some flooding around town. I couldn’t get enough of it. With Doris as my passenger, I drove to the farmlands of far southeast Austin to the hills of northwest Austin, up steep hills, and through a temporary river that ran across the road. That was before I knew you weren’t supposed to do that. Oops!

I learned to drive in a full size Chevy van and my daily driver was a full size Ford van. The school bus felt like an extension of those vans, but with better mirrors. I didn’t need help with maneuvering or parallel parking. It just came naturally. When they sent me out on my own route, it was frightening and fun. I loved transporting and interacting with children.

Twenty five years later, I still love my job. I love how my two worlds have intertwined over the years; each one influencing the other. I became a writer and performer of children’s music known as Mr. Bus Driver Man Sir. I’m soon to become a published author of a children’s book.

I’ve performed at many schools and children’s programs. My guitar, Charlie, comes to work with me every day. I play in the afternoon when kids are boarding the bus and on field trips.

Twenty five years ago I just wanted a job that was fun and paid the bills. Twenty five years later I’m grateful for the benefits and retirement plan. I’m fortunate to have had thousands of kids pass through my life. Some were challenging, many were quiet and kept to themselves. I was that kid. Many kids were bursting with energy and excitement. Many had wild, vivid imaginations. I think I’m still that kid. All have contributed to me being the person I am today. And I think I’m a pretty good person today.

I may be eligible to retire but I’m planning to stick around for a while. It’s still a fun job that pays the bills.

peace,

-Mr. Bus Driver Man Sir