Born to Drive

I missed my bus home today by a couple of minutes (after biking like a madman into a gusty headwind). I ducked into Woodland Mall to use their facilities and I returned to find the "Davis Express" idling at the bus stop. I'd never run across this line before in my few months riding Yolobus. I shrugged my shoulders-- a lot of fates were better than waiting an hour for my next bus.

I asked the driver if he could take me to Davis. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to take passengers on his way to his first official stop, but he'd call in to ask. I thought that was friendly of him. Dispatch assented and the bus driver warned the other guy who wanted to go and I that he had to go through "downtown". I didn't think there was a way this could be a less pleasant route home than sitting around waiting for my bus.

Once underway it became quickly apparent that "downtown" meant Sac and my bus driver was a bona fide character. He talked about how his most valuable possession was his driving record and that while he wasn't very athletic or otherwise talented, he was born to drive. He rapped off how he made it his business to drive well and safely, and that he had faith that Jesus would not disappoint him. Reciting bible verses in his rolling black voice and speaking enthusiastically about how there's a right way and a wrong way to take a turn, he reminded me of my uncle Pierre, who's a Catholic apologist.

The man had energy. Every eccentric's starting point is inborn energy. He told us how he loved this (coach-style) bus because it "turned like a car". He told us that we were coming up on his "favorite turn in the world", which was a left at a streetlight, the outer arc of the turn marked with reflective bumps. He prepared us to appreciate its magnificence with a "wait for it, wait for it" and then we rolled around the turn. We turned gracefully and smoothly at a fairly moderate speed without hitting a single reflective bump. He then enthusiastically exclaimed, "Did you hear me hit one of those bumps? Did you? That's right! I was born to drive!" I suspect the feat was more impressive if you drive buses for a living.

He stressed out about running behind schedule (because he took us on) and talked about ways to get more speed out of his bus. He criticized drivers on the freeway for not signaling and cutting in front of him and detailed the subtleties to driving well. Quite a few subtleties, in fact. He also reminisced about his younger days as a truck driver. He'd traveled through forty-six of the forty-eight continental states (only missing Washington and Oregon, we learned). He wistfully said that he'd have kept driving trucks if he had stayed single and suggested that it may have been a better decision.

Besides energy, he shared with my uncle and I a faith in purpose and grace. I always respect a person who lives with so much of themselves on the surface for all to see and comes across so whole and beautiful. That's another thing I think he shared with Pierre and I. There are a lot of times when I wish my persona held more mystique, but occasionally I remember to ask myself "What use is mystique if you're plain awesome?"

In the end, I guess I'm not really surprised so many people play life close to their chests. I'm more curious why so few people believe in purpose and grace.