As I Sat On The Bus Invitational – An Occasional Story or Magazine

As I Rode On The Bus #25

Yikes! This is #25 of the As I Sat On The Bus thing. Bumba thanks the brave bloggers who have contributed to this remarkable mass transportation series, and invites one and all to make a contribution to the AISOTB Compendium and to ride the bus every now and then.

Bumbastories environmental engineers have made a rough estimate that if everyone in the (over) developed industrialized nations reduced their energy use by 20% – that means everyone uses 20% less gasoline, electricity, natural gas (also 20% less water, plastic, and paper – all of that reduction, this 20% to 22% reduction, which is indeed easily do-able without much sacrifice by anyone who claims to be worried about global warming and pollution – would make a significant difference. Bumbastories environmental engineers figure the price of a gallon of gasoline would go down by 35 to 40%, not to mention the lower doctor bills.

Ride the bus one day a week, find inspiration for an blog article.

In any case……

As I sat on the #20 bus rattling with the others up Wilshire Blvd, I thought: “What ever shall I write of next? This whole riding on the bus thing is getting a bit long in the tooth.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll think of something” a voice told me.

No sooner had these exact words “don’t worry, you’ll think of something” run across my mind, that a unique occurrence, an epiphany of sorts played out before my very eyes. Or rather the epiphany played out behind me. From the rear seat of the bus a young man had taken out his guitar and launched into a perfect rendition – indeed it was almost an exact copy – of Marcel Marceau’s famous 1962 recording of the Hank Williams hit Lovesick Blues

At this point I noticed that Bumba was making a quick escape from this week’s AISOTB Invitational, as he hopped off at the next stop. I myself stayed on the bus and heard the song till the end. It was OK, but I thought Marcel Marceau sung it better.

As I Sat On the Bus (#22)

Yes brave bloggers and other miscreants, welcome to this week’s As I Sat On the Bus Invitational. All are invited of course. However, the sole condition (call it a prompt) is to begin the shpiel with As I Sat On the Bus or something close to it. Anything approximating a municipal bus somewhere in the text – and that includes all forms of mass transportation – is more than acceptable. Bumbastories again presents this week the celebrated George Packard, who tells of a very unexciting, but fairly pleasant, visit to the public library. Accompanying music is yesterday’s Key To The Highway, one of George’s travelling songs.

As I sat on the sunny park bench

In front of me the fountain gurgling

The turtles still in the water

I listened as the chimes of the water fell and then crescendoed

The deep and gentle warmth of the sun

Made its way through me

Several of the turtles had already crawled up the steep ledge of the pool

To sun themselves

The morning sun rising in the southern sky

It was a clear day in Los Angeles. George Packard was setting out for the library. He rode the bus of course.

As George Packard sat in the library he read about Kepler and Copernicus. A biography of Kepler was interesting. A book called

Johannes Kepler and the New Astronomy by James Voelkel, Oxford University Press, 1999 call no. 520.92K3855VO

Also George peeked at On The Shoulders of Giants, Stephen Hawking’s 1,264 page tome.

Hawking wrote of five giants:

Copernicus (1473 – 1543)

Galileo Galilei (1564 – 1642)

Johannes Kepler (1571 – 1630)

Sir Isaac Newton (1643 – 1727)

and

Albert Einstein (1879 – 1955)

Just five giants. (Hawking inexplicably omits Willie Mays)

As I Sat On The Bus Invitational (#20)

Welcome once again to the As I Sat On The Bus Invitational. Just send in your As I Sat On The Bus stories to the Comments section. If you want encouragement, just think that old Bumba has already posted 19 of these puppies, and is still going strong. And if you require further inspiration, well, just have a seat on your neighborhood bus. Once again, considerable artistic latitude is granted to those who write on trains and/or other forms of mass transportation. Also welcome are those who stand on buses, wait for buses, or just think very deeply about buses in general.

This week’s message:

A Letter of Thanks to the Los Angeles MTA images-2

Here’s a big writers’ thank you to the Metropolitan Transit Authority. The Los Angeles MTA provides unparalleled inspiration to write, to scribble, to babble and to scrawl to my heart’s content as I bump along the city streets. And it doesn’t stop there! The MTA not only provides inspiration ON the bus. But OFF the bus too, the MTA inspires us by giving us those long, poetic waits on filthy, noisy street corners, the cars and trucks speeding past. The dust, the noise! Ah, those sweet moments….er… eternities waiting for the bus. What inspiration! And so much of it! Ah, the MTA is so generous.

But all good things come to an end. Eventually the old bus pulls up. Ah, to sit, to get a seat on the bus. The back seat no less! Thus inspired I can begin my novel.

This one will be a big seller. Not like my other books, this one will be commercial in spades. A murder on the first page! Strings of obsenities, chilling, nightmarish visions. A page-turner for the modern reader.

Chapter I

As I sat on the bus (Yikes!!! sorry I can’t stop it), I considered who I would murder next. That lady up front looks good. Perfect, in fact. She looks so innocent! So sweet. Nah, too sweet. I don’t like ’em too sweet.

Let’s see. That guy on the right. He looks innocent enough, and not sweet at all. Good. I’m glad. I must admit, I always have such a hard time picking out a victim. I’m glad to get that part out of the way. I always have trouble deciding.

OK now. Let’s move on. The method. Axe again? Nah. I think I’ll use the hydraulic compressor this time. He’s a big guy, though. He might present some technical difficulties fitting into the…. Never mind. I could always chop him up. Nah, too messy again. Damn! I hate all that mess. Ok, let’s see. That older woman over there….

As Marcus Sat On the Bus (#18 in the As I Sat On The Bus Invitational)

Marcus put away the letter he was writing. He would be mailing that letter as it was, handwritten. He didn’t want to mess it up. Because now he was on the #218 bus.

He continued to write, though. Only not so neatly. He would write for the Bumbastories As I Sat On The Bus Invitational. It sounded like a very prestigious and significant Invitational. He began to write:
“As I sat on the bus, the #218 bus….”

Marcus could write because the bus was standing still much of the time. The traffic was thick on Fairfax Ave. Again he started: “As I sat on the bus I began to realize that my entire life and the lives of everyone I had ever known including sweet Rosa had been….” Here he stopped.
The engines rattled beneath his seat in the back of the bus, and the road started to shake and bounce the little bus to and fro, Marcus was forced to put aside his pen. He looked out the window. They were going up through Laurel Canyon in the small, air-conditioned, commuter bus, the 218. Marcus was glad of the respite provided. The temperature was 95 degrees Farenheit outside, unusual for October. He’d put his bicycle on the front rack. Probably he’d just ride the bus back and forth. Perhaps a coffee or a cool drink somewhere around Ventura Blvd. Or maybe he’d ride further up Laurel Cyn.

The bus wound its way through the shady canyon floor. It was a bit like mountain driving – well almost. You certainly didn’t feel like you were in the city. Marcus always enjoyed driving Laurel Canyon in his car. On the bus he had the freedom to look out the window at the sunny slopes and valleys of chapperal. And they still were in L. A.
Laurel Cyn Blvd was a one-laned road through the canyon pass, usually lined with cars crossing into the Valley and back. It was one of the handful of passes through the Santa Monica mountain range.

The bus climbed its way up to the top. The crest at Mulhulland Drive lay ahead. The bus pulled and swayed at every S curve. Finally they reached the traffic light at the top of the hill. They looked out at the sweet San Fernando Valley below, as the bus stopped to discharge a passenger, another bicycle rider, at the corner of Mulhulland and Laurel. The bus began its careful descent into the Valley. Lots of brakes. Last stop was Ventura Blvd.
Marcus got off and had an iced coffee at the Coffee Bean.

The way back was uneventful.

As I Sat On the Bus #16

George Packard, retired schoolteacher, sat in the Beverly Hills Library and observed the minor goings-on at the check-out counter. In his heart he felt a familiar malaise. George was used to it, this malaise.
He watched the little exchanges. People returning their books, paying overdue fines. George found pleasure in watching people, but eventually would begin to fantasize and make up stories about them in his head. This was generally a bad practice. “Always remain objective if you want to be a good scientist.” George remembered a quote from a science book he had read as a youngster.

He wondered what to write for the Bumbastories As I Sat On The Bus Compendium. George had made a certain committment to Bumba. But George did not feel like writing any more. As a “roving reporter”, George felt the need for additional roving. He was on his bike that day. He went to Gardner Park.

However, the next day George took the bus

As George Packard rode on the bus, the inspiration to write swept over him like a salty ocean wave that sweeps you up and throws you toward the beach. Something called to him. Something called at him.

George would write a novel.

The As I Sat On The Bus Invitational #11

The bus rolls on. Send in your stories, poems, thoughts – however meager – to this post. Provide a link to your blog in the comments section. All contributions are welcome. Cash contributions, of course, are my favorite (sorry, that joke wasn’t fare). Without further ado here is Bumba’s contribution for this week’s As I Sat On The Bus Invitational.

As I waited for the bus, I pondered what I was doing with my life. Achh! I asked myself: Why was I bothering with this blog? It wasn’t “real”writing. I should be starting another book! Even another sequel to the One Life saga would be better than this sorry As I Sat On The Bus thing! What a load of….

I was starting to become suicidal, but then……Ah, finally, the bus arrived.

As I sat on the bus a fresh idea came to me. What about a story about a man, a frustrated writer, a man who can only write when on the bus? An attempt, at last, at a genuine best-seller, something that would sell like hotcakes. Everyone knows that mass transportation is a sexy topic. It’s sure to be a hit. The protagonist would be someone totally unlike myself. I envisioned a frustrated, aging writer who rides the bus to discover the meaning of life….. Ooops.

Well, back to the drawing board. See ya next week.

The As I Sat On The Bus Invitational #9

Welcome to the weekly As I Sat On The Bus Invitational. Send in (via the comments section) your stories, poems, songs, photos, essays etc. that start – or somewhere/somehow employ the phrase – “As I sat on the bus”.

Share your deepest and most heartfelt feelings about buses and about mass transportation in general so that people (Well, bloggers at least. People and bloggers are not correlated 100%) can see and comment on them.

My own contribution this week is a song, a heavy sort of blues, that I call – you guessed it – As I Sat On The Bus

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As I was riding on the bus today

I thought I heard somebody say

He said “Hey, I got the blues

I got the blues in morning, got the blues at night

I got the blues in the afternoon, whoa out of sight

Oh, I got the blues”

Walking all day with these lonesome blues

Whoa, the blues they over me

I heard somebody say as I sat on the bus

I heard somebody say It ain’t us that’s doing all the wrong

As I was sitting on the bus today

I thought I heard somebody say

But when I turned around, I have to declare

It was myself talking out loud

As I sat on the bus

The As I Sat On The Bus Invitational #8

Thanks to all those who sent in their stories that begin with that wonderful and inspiring “As I sat on the bus”.

Brave travellers all, we appreciate your efforts. Riding the bus ain’t always easy, but it does help you write.

********************

I was having a rough time thinking of something to write for this week’s As I Sat On The Bus Invitational.

I felt dejected, rejected. All hope was gone it seemed. I would never be able to think of anything to write! It was hopeless! I wanted to throw myself under the bus…..(sorry for that one)

“Don’t do it,” said an inner voice.

“Huh?” I said.

“Don’t pay any mind to all that pessimism,” continued the voice, “It’s just writer’s block, and you’ll get past it soon enough. Just ride that bus. Ride that bus”

The voice of wisdom went on, “Just listen to the sound of the wheels, the hum of the engines, the vibration to your seat, the bumps, the jolts.”

“Before you know it you’re writing.”

***********************

As I Sat On The Bus

Marcus headed for the beach even though it was a cloudy day. Marcus had been in L.A. long enough to know that 1) the skies usually clear up by early afterneoon, and 2) that you could never really know or make any sense of the L.A. weather anyhow.

Or about anything, for that matter, considered the grizzled, cynical Los Angeles private detective Francisco Marcus, a personal friend of Philip Marlowe and a used-to-be L.A. legend in his own right.

Marcus rode the Culver City #1 bus. He sat up front.

Marcus was tailing someone: the guy in the seat behind him. Marcus had picked up the job two days before. The guy’s wife was a rich widow and the guy was her second husband. Son of a gun had married an attractive and very wealthy meal ticket six years ago in a big wedding that was covered in all the gossip columns. And now it looked like the guy was ordering take-out. That’s why the widow had hired him.

Marcus followed the guy to the pier. It looked like it was starting to clear up a bit. Marcus photographed the rendez-vous. (Photos of rendez-vous not presented here for reasons of confidentiality)

Just another job for Francisco Marcus.

The As I Sat On The Bus Invitational #7

This week Bumba is exercising some artistic freedom with the As I Sat On The Bus Invitational. He is exchanging the bus for a bicycle, and hopes that no one has any serious objections. Please submit your own As I Sat On The Bus stories and photos, poems and songs in the comments section. Good luck and have a pleasant ride and a good week!

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As George Packard rode on his bicycle he considered the question of conserving of energy: how things he learned to do on the bicycle to conserve his own personal energy were applicable on a more general scale.

On the bicycle George slowed down before reaching red lights in order to not come to so many full stops. To start pedalling from a dead stop was strenuous (a large expenditure of energy). To pick up speed on the downhills, to reduce wind resistance, and to try to avoid going over bumps of course and rough patches in the road (metaphorically as well) all saved energy on the bike. George had long driven his car in a similar slow-down-and-roll-and-try-to-not-always-be-stepping-on-the-accelerator kind of approach.

“People would probably save ??? percent of gasoline usage that way if only they stopped driving like damned nuts,” considered George. “Maybe 10%,” he began to calculate.

“Of course, they could most of them drive smaller cars. That would save almost 50% on gas. Or they could not drive at all sometimes,” continued George in his mind.

“They could take the bus or the bike. They could walk more.”

George Packard, retired schoolteacher pedalled on.

*********************

Bumbastories’ political analyst/pundit adds:

We figure that in the United States and in most of the industrialized nations an immediate 20% reduction in energy consumption could be easily effected – without any skin off of anybody’s you know what. A reduction in energy consumption of 20-25%! Who would object? Who would cry about that? Well… the oil cartel, the car manufacturers, the energy lobby: all the guys who have been succeeding in keeping simple, plain old conservation off the table. Let ’em cry says Bumbastories.

George Packard, retired schoolteacher rode out to the UCLA campus, where he visited their wonderful Botanical Gardens.

The Weekly As I Sat On The Bus Invitational —-

Ride the bus, write those stories. I’ll be writing and attaching to the comments section my own As I Sat On the Bus composition later today

Gotta go catch the bus. See ya….

As I sat on the bus I took a few photos.

The guy next to me asked if I was a tourist.

We had a brief conversation about the fate of the world.

“No,” I said, “I don’t think the world will be destroyed anytime soon.

People aren’t all bad. Things will be all right.

Take care, my friend!”