I don’t mind winter as much as some people do. The cold really doesn’t get to me that bad, but I do get wigged out by the dark. Dark when I wake up (but then again, it’s always dark when I get up, usually between 4:15 and 4:30,) dark when I go to work, dark when I get home. The only time I see daylight is on the weekends between November and April, and that is depressing.
November 17th is quite early for a first significant snow in beautiful Central Ohio. Usually the greater Columbus area is spared from the White Death until at least mid-December, because we sit in a valley and most of the weather goes either north or south of us, but not this time. We got about 4″ of snow, which isn’t as bad as further north, but it’s not typical this early. It doesn’t break my heart that we miss most of the epic snowfalls that occur in Northeast Ohio. Cleveland can have it.
Just another public service announcement from the 1940’s.
Wrap that rascal, bub!
I have to wonder about the state of this crazy assed world. I still wonder why they let school buses stop on the major thoroughfares during rush hour when there are parking lots close by where the buses can pull in and pick up kids without a.) stopping traffic, and b.) endangering kids by having them wander out close to the major thoroughfares. I don’t see where stopping traffic for miles is a time saver for anyone.
I do remember that when I was a little kid and had to ride the bus that the bus driver set the rules. Period. I had no problems at all while I was on the bus. My problems with riding the bus were before the bus got there and after the bus left. That’s when I ended up either head first in the bushes or head first in the trash barrel. When I was on the bus and in my place in the geeky-nerd-kid-with-thick-glasses-and-bad-clothes-seat- directly behind the driver- I was fine. Big John was the driver, and he didn’t take any crap from any kids. If you misbehaved on Big John’s bus, you got thrown off. Literally. As far as I was concerned, the seat behind the driver was the Safest Seat, and the one I took every time. I wasn’t going to have any conflict with Big John.
One morning two of the older boys, neither of whom were terribly bright, and both of whom were known trouble makers, decided to sit in the very back seat of the bus and fire up their Marlboros. This was a highly unwise move. I no sooner smelled a faint whiff of smoke than Big John slammed the brakes, flipped down the aisle, opened the back door and tossed both boys right out the back of the bus. Then Big John turned around and addressed the remaining kids on the bus with, “You smoke on my bus, I throw you out. Get it?”
Go take your cigs anywhere but Big John’s bus.
Today that would be a lawsuit. Someone today would stir up some kind of horse shit about the two boys being learning disabled (they were, but even they had enough upstairs to understand the bus rules) and therefore completely unaccountable for their actions. Back then, whether you were in the LD class or not, there were consequences for breaking the rules. Those two boys, to my knowledge, never rode Big John’s bus again.
But I think it is perfectly OK to throw miscreant boys off the bus for lighting up a smoke.
That was a much simpler world.
Now the rest of society is stuck having to pander to this or that special condition or bullshit excuse as to why person X doesn’t have to adhere to the rules that are applicable to everyone else.
I know I’m not “normal” or anywhere close to it. I’ve always known that. I’ve also discovered that it’s on me to adjust. I’m not the one running the train, or the one ringing the bell.
If I have a dietary restriction, then I need to bring my own meals, or make do with the available edibles. Being diabetic I am well aware of that. Either I bring suitable comestibles or adjust my dining experience accordingly. If I know my friends don’t have diet soda, for example, then I’ll either a.) bring my own, or b.) drink plain water or black coffee. I’m not going to pitch a fit because someone didn’t make an exception to accommodate my need for sugar free drinks. I don’t expect people to go out of their way to have Tab or Diet Dr. Pepper just for me. The same principle goes for people with dietary sensitivities or allergies. If you know it will kill you to eat peanuts, then don’t go diving into the cookies and desserts unless you know ahead of time what’s in them- or bring your own peanut-free ones.
Just don’t eat it if you know it might kill you.
I know I’ve gone on and on about the entitlement mentality, and the whole concept of special privileges for the mollycoddled few, and it really pisses me off. Now I get to deal with parents with young kids who think that other people should do their work for them while they stay home with their kids and get paid to do it. What makes their kids more special than my son? The kid I had to leave with a sitter (on my dime, of course) or in daycare for 8-12 hours a day, 5 days a week (or more) from the age of 8 weeks until he was about 13 (unless he was in school), because I had to work? I’m sorry, but that torques me. Why are your child care issues my problem? Either stay at home with your kid and suck it up, or do what everyone else had to do- put your kid in daycare and drag your ass to work. You can’t have it both ways. I sure didn’t. And I’m not (willingly) going to cover for you.
So, if you’ve decided to breast feed until the kid hits puberty, sorry about your luck.
Unless you are independently wealthy, that is.
One thought on “Extra Early White Death! Yay!- And Don’t Smoke on the Bus!”
While I can’t recall ever having trouble at the bus stop (I mean as a kid; I have a scary memory of a downtown LA bus station at midnight or so, but that was in college), I managed to get kicked off the bus two or three times (always for my mouth; I was a pretty tame–or lame–kid in most other respects), so we’re opposites in that.
A bus-related anecdote (a little bit off-topic) which you might appreciate is a memory which has become funnier to me as I’ve gotten older and had kids. It wasn’t funny at all at the time. Ever since I got my license during the first semester of my junior year, my mom had been saying that if I didn’t get a 3.0 on my report card, she’d take away my car (I graduated high school with a 2.47 GPA–thank God for the SATs). But when I didn’t get a 3.0 that semester, she didn’t take my car away. And the same thing the next semester. So as my first semester of senior year was drawing to a close, I was pretty confident that my lackluster GPA wasn’t going to result in losing the car.
But that time she lowered the boom–she took away the car for my final semester of high school. I didn’t get it back until I went to college, and that was only because it was in a different state.
Ultimately, I don’t know if I learned anything or not, or if my mom’s belated discipline actually did anything for me, but I’m glad it happened.