Friday Afternoons

I’m sitting in a warm, quiet bus, in a long line of school buses like a yellow ribbon strung in an arc in front of this grade 2-4 school, waiting. Momentarily the doors will open and they will emerge, walking as fast as possible without breaking into a run (running ist Verboten!), happy, their eyes scanning for their bus number or the familiar faces of their drivers. They jostle to be first on the bus, a badge of honor which goes to little Dominic most of the time. He is by far the shortest of this group, but you should see how fast his little legs can walk.

The cold January air and the increasing loudness have replaced the quiet and the warmth. Time to get to work!

It is Friday. They are so loud and restless on Fridays that I believe, at times, my pulse quickens.

Volume Control UP
Friday afternoon is the most dramatic and most active ride of the week. Someone calls someone stupid. That’s all it takes and now, the receiver of stupid believes that I must, that I want, to know about it. How do they tell me from seat 15? They yell. I can’t hear them, so they simply yell louder, their insulted eyes on me. I still can’t hear them because one yeller turns up the volume enough to require another child to yell to his friends, like a line of dominos standing on end, the first yell is the touch that starts the action.

The Driver Reacts
Twice I have pulled over, turned off the engine and become the Wicked Witch of the West on a Friday afternoon. Occassionally I’ve attempted other methods to quell the mounting Friday afternoon chaos. One time I grabbed my microphone, turned the volume to high and sang: “Whooooooooooooooooo lives in a pineapple under the sea!”. Shocked into silence, they gazed at one another, mouths open in surprise but quickly recovered and boomed, “Sponge Bob Square Pants!!”. That was fun and it worked. They sang that annoying little ditty for days.

You know, the way this story is told, you might be surprised that it is only a 3-mile trip. My motto has been, “I can take anything for three miles”. However, there are ten stop signs, one traffic light, and a lot of turns. I count them on Fridays.

Requiem for Bob and Joan

Whining on Wednesdayand Having Some Fun
I have a new Pet Peeve!
The Culprits
Amaya, Naairah, Zania, Ayana, Anass, Javaughn, Nathalie, Caitlyn, Caitlin, Shakur, etc., etc.
The Question
I s there a secret competition to bestow upon babies names that are rare, invented, hard to pronounce, or spelled so as to further confuse the already confusing rules of phonics?
My Ears Were Opened!
I noticed the extent of this craziness when I started driving school children whereupon it was discovered to be rampant in elementary to middle school aged children.
Rambling - Briefly
Occasionally I write for the local newspaper and had an assignment to cover a small event at an elementary school and to get a group photo of the children involved. Three teachers assisted me, straight faced, with spelling the children’s names, as I tried to hide my horror and astonishment at the absurdity of the names and their spelling.
Action
If a child is named ‘ROCK’, does it have to be spelled R-A-U-K?
What’s up with this?
I suppose these names will always be misspelled and having to say, “no it’s not ‘SKY’ it’s S-K-Y-E” or “no, it’s not MARIE, it’s M-A-R-E-E," could become tiresome. Take it from me, Donnalee LaRose. No one gets it right. I've stopped the corrections.
Conclusion
Who wants to wager these children will name their own children Susan and David?

Or, perhaps Shakur and Maree will be the new Betty and Bobby.