Outer Limits Bus Ride

I had been visiting Mama at OneCare up in the Highlands, NJ, for about eight hours. All she did was sleep. I was besides myself, what with worrying about her, trying to keep her awake, getting her to eat, and getting her to decide to take different, more pleasant, actions at the nursing home. I spent most of the time by myself (because she was constantly sleeping) and roamed the halls. At one point I heard some ballroom music playing out of a boom box they had there and started swaying to the music absent mindedly. An aide, who was leaving for the day, asked me if I wanted to dance. He put all his things down and we had a dance, followed by a dip. Then, he went home. After that I heard nurses and aides saying "Dancing With the Stars" in several sections of the nursing home. Then at the other end of the building there was a CD playing some pop music and doo wop. I harmonized with those. Then at about 7:15 I decided I had watched mama sleep for long enough and decided to leave.

Of course, leaving this nursing home was no easy feat. It's alongside a highway, not at a legitimiate bus stop, and there are no sidewalks around anywhere. The highway is divided by a pretty wide strip of grass and trees. And, to make things worse, it's on a sharp curve, so you can barely see the oncoming cars until they are just about on top of you. Additionally, it's pitch black and you can't see anything. I've gotten in the habit of carrying a flashlight with me.

I crossed route 36 to the other side with my waning flashlight. Then on the opposite side, started to walk south to the traffic light (where there are two small malls and a legitimate bus stop). It's quite a long distance to walk in absolute darkness (about 1/4 of a mile I would say, maybe more). I was about two thirds of the way there when a car came out of a dark unfinished side street in front of me, got on route 36 going in the opposite direction than I was walking and passed me (slowly). Then he backed up. It was a police car. He asked if there was a problem. I told him I was walking to the traffic light so that I could catch the bus at the actual bus stop. He asked if I wanted a ride. The timbre of his voice made me very uncomfortable somehow (maybe too many Dean Koontz and Robert Ludlum novels). There was no way I was getting in his car. I thanked him and told him that I was almost there and that besides his car was facing the opposite way and he would need to turn around.

I got to the malls. Chose the Italian restaurant. Asked the waitress if there was any way the chef could cook something for me in time for me to get out of there by about 8:10pm so that I could catch my 8:24p bus (it was now 7:30p). She said yes. I selected the lamb chops and asked if that would take too long. "No, no, that's fine." At 8:00, still no food. I went up to the counter with my take out containers in hand (I had previously asked for them) and asked her to have the chef just drop the food directly into them and not bother with plates. "Aw, he just finished your order."

Got out to the bus stop at 8:05p. It was a bit cold (it was in March, the middle of winter) and I needed to do something with myself. So, I started singing musical scales. "How high can I go, how low can I go." I have shut down on singing and dancing since all these problems with mom and the apartment searching started, that I don't even know if I can sing anymore. So, there I am, with my musical scales.

The bus shows up at 8:30p. I see a brilliantly smiling face on the Korean bus driver. He leans down to me and asks "Can you sing?"

Wow! that's ironic. I tell him "Sure! I was just doing my musical scales." I figure he's kidding. I get on and he tells me "sit in the front; this is a singing bus." I sit right behind the driver. There are two inebbriated men on the bus singing away (seems like all songs are Irish songs, or in any event drunken songs). The next person we pick up is a tall, slim, and very refined looking black man with a very nice long black coat. The driver asks him, "Can you sing? This is a singing bus." The man makes some kind of evasive answer and sits one third of the way back. The drunk duo keep singing their songs. Actually they are singing in a key that allows me to harmonize with them. After a while I hear the bus driver singing too. He has a good voice. Then I hear the refined man singing too. After a while, I ask if it's only an Irish-song-singing bus. They respond, "These are Scottish songs!!!" "Excuse ME!!, I say. I ask if cowboy songs with yodels are allowed. The bus driver says, "Yes, of course." I sing Jimmy Rogers' "Any Old Time" and am right up to the yodelling part when the bus driver stops for two guys. I stop, allow them to come in and pay, and then finish with my yodel. The new passengers haven't a clue what they have just stepped into. One of the new passengers sits across from me. He looks like a skinhead (very short hair), otherwise, everything else is very normal. He looks like a very cleancut military slender man. He then leans over to me and says, "I just cut my hair. Does it look ok?" He turns his head in all directions to let me see. I tell him "Yeah, you did a fine job." He works for Hondai and has just returned from Seoul. He asks the young girl (who was singing with us also from time to time) in the seat in front of him if she's getting out in Keansburg (he wants to move up to the front seat). She gets out and he asks me if I mind if he moves up to the front seat. HOI DA!!!???? [Why would I mind?] Yeah, as if everyone asks me for permission as to where they can sit. We pick up a woman at the beginning of Keansburg. Driver asks her if she sings and she says "Yeah, I'm going to the karaoke in Keansburg." Another passenger who is picked up says "I don't sing for free. I need to get paid."

Anyway, since the skinhead guy moved to the front seat, the conversation became all about his visits to Seoul, and whether the Korean section in Manhattan is friendly to Americans.

When we got to the end of our trip, I was sure to profusely thank the bus driver. He really helped me at a time that I needed some cheerfulness. I couldn't believe what he had created on the bus. Never saw anything like that.

To part, one last comment. On my way to the Port Authority yesterday morning, I was on one of the two-seater side seats on the D train. I was by the window, with an Asian woman next to me with her back toward me. Another enormous woman came by and pointed to the miniscule 6" triangular pie-slice-space between us. When both I and the Asian woman just looked at her, non plused, the woman moved on. Then the woman next to me and I looked at each other, and helplessly smiled. HOI DA??????