The Great Bus Metaphor

The Canadians would not play my podcast last week because I mentioned cannibalism. I think the context had to do with Zombies and how you really couldn't get a decent Zombie from someone if a cannibal had cracked their bones and this may have had something to do with a desire that someone might eat Sarah Palin to that extent. Anyway, it got me thinking about living an active life as opposed to waiting for a bus. I have waited for a few buses in my time but mostly I have spent my time in some sort of action. If you just met me, you might find this hard to believe, as I am sort of a slug today, but I'm sort of at the end of my active life now. Before I got here, however, I was definitely not a bus rider. I think that, compared to most people, I have had a rather exciting life. I worked hard at many different jobs and really enjoyed meeting the people I came in contact with. Everyone has a good story and I became good at getting them to tell it. It has been said that everyone has a book in them. In my opinion, being a good author is getting those stories from as many folks as you can and then finding out that everyone is a usable character somewhere down the line. I would have liked to make a good book for people to read, but by the time I understood how to go about it, I got too tired.

When I was a little boy, one of the old people who lived in my house used to sing an Irving Berlin song about a soldier who did not like to get up in the morning. At the end of the tune, the GI said that "someone was going to murder the bugler" and after that happened, he would spend the rest of his life in bed. Having been in the Army, I could understand that desire and after 25 some years of getting called out at all hours during my time in EMS, when it came time to retire, I found myself in bed. Now this had something to do with a glitch during heart surgery and also some bad luck which caused further brain troubles and to tell the truth, what with my laptop and library, bed's a nice place. Thing is, no matter what I read about, I've seen something worse in real life, so if I just lodge down in the covers and close my eyes I can usually make up a happy story and slip right off. I guess if I keep it in mind not to board any buses while in dreamland I may have a few more years of active rest right here. Only thing about that bus. They never shut if off and some nights you will hear it idling and wonder just how long you might have before they put it in gear. On the other hand, some of those buses are real palaces on the inside while others, you are lucky to find a seat. There is always got to be a fucking mystery behind this manner of thought. Hell, if you miss-time your boarding you might get run down in the road and eaten by scavengers who will most likely crack your bones. Then where are you?