Bus Paranoia

So, like it's been forever since my last post. Sorry.

I was IM'ing with a bud today, and he's like, "Dude, you never post to your BLOG anymore."

I'm like, "Dude, you're so right." I promised I'd update it tonight, so I am.

I'm mostly lazy. That's the single biggest reason I've not BLOG'd in a while. I've been playing a lot of Warcraft III on Battle.NET lately.

I just love playing with my fellow 12-year olds. They're so brutal. It's a riot. I've been called every name in the book. My online name is Uxorious -- more or less a word from the Latin Uxor (wife) and meaning "hen pecked". Or perhaps, "ruled by your wife" may be a better meaning. Look it up at www.dictionary.com. It's really a word.

I've been playing this really fun game where you get a tank and go and try to attack the other side's town and you have all these tank varieties, weapon choices, etc. The game has a tremendous amount of potential. Some like 14-year old probably designed it.

I also love to play tower wars where you build towers to defend against the other guy. I like to play tower defenses where you build towers to defend against the computer. I like tower-based games the best. My son's think I'm boring. Whatever, right?

I've been riding the bus to work since April. I get on the bus at 7:10am in downtown Schenectady and ride it to smack-dab in the middle of Albany to arrive usually about 7:50am. At night, I get on the bus at 5:45pm to arrive in Schenectaday at about 6:30pm. I have like almost 12-hour days.

The bus is an interesting microcosm of life. You meet all sorts on the bus. Today, I assisted a nearly blind, somewhat odiferous, mentally-handicapped man find the correct bus to board. He was looking for bus 14 or 15. I announced the various buses as they passed by, so he took that as a sign that I wanted a deeper relationship with him.

Attempting to stand upwind of said gentleman, I also had to bend my ear his way and concentrate on what he was saying. Often, it appears, severe slurring of speach goes along with mental handicaps. I think he's moving South with his Social Security checks now. That's what I think he said.

He said he tried to give someone he works with $20.00 as a goodbye gift.

I wouldn't be able to accept any cash from a mentally handicapped person. It may make them feel bad, but I would feel worse like I was taking advantage of them.

Said gentleman said he had very bad glaucoma, and I could see his eyes were very cloudy. I was glad to be able to help him, still.

There's another guy I ride with regularly who sometimes forgets to medicate, I think. He then becomes a tad boisterous, but never mean or threatening. Just vocal. You know as most of us have this mental audio-shut-off-valve in our heads that tells us to shut up. His valve just doesn't work.

Speaking of which, we had yet another gentleman, and I'm glad this event only happened once, rode on our bus and talked non-stop. He sat next to this poor woman on the bus and spoke to her incessantly. When finally, he had nothing left to say, he sang, at the top of his lungs, "Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown."

The whole song.

I made up a song that I'm going to compose and sing once I get my new musical group off the ground. The song's name is "Bus Paranoia". It goes:

Bus Paranoia, Bus Paranoia
I'm gonna miss the bus.
I'm gonna miss the bus.

That's all I've written. I have a tune for it too, but I can't type out the tune, so you'll have to go without that.

The new group is call F.O.M. Sort of like P.O.D. but older, uglier, and fatter. F.O.M. stand for "Fat Old Men". Right now, I'm the only guy in the band, and I sold my guitar. I guess I'll get a kazoo.

I'll write more soon, I promise.