School Bus

School Bus

—for Mike George

"I had run into a guy down

in Oceanside and he lived in a bus.

At that time, Oceanside was okay

with folks living on the beach in

whatever they had. This guy's name

was Carol. He looked like a

Marine.

"I sort of interviewed him.

"Carol was a surfer. He complained

about his daughter who wanted to

live in a condo. He drove down to

Baja in the winter and lived in San

Diego in the summer. His school bus

was a standard one with a porch on

the back that somebody had built.

"He and his wife were sitting there.

     "For example, 'Did you live on this

bus, was that your home?'

     "'Yeah.'

"He'd quit his job in corporate

America.

"I thought it could be the

answer. Mike was having trouble in

second grade and I thought it would

be good to keep the kids out of

school. We went to a weekend

afternoon on the beach and a lot of

people there lived in buses. It

was a Sunday. I talked to them and

thought I could do that. Get Mike

out of school and live on a bus.

"That was 1977.

"Anaheim County had open schools

with no grades for kids under

twelve, but they lost their

funding. All my four kids were in

the open schools program. We

decided to take the kids out of the

education system and travel. We got

a range from a friend's mother who

was renovating her kitchen. This

was in Brea.

"Jim was a neighbor.

"We played chess together. We'd get

a six pack of beer and play chess.

His father worked for Flour, a

think tank, and he died of

insanity. That's not right. He

was crazy. He retired. Then he

died. He was really smart, but he

died anyway.

"We had to hang around

southern California. I had to

borrow Jim's car. He worked at a

lumber yard as a night watchman. I

got free plywood from there. Jim's

transmission went out and it only

worked in reverse. I drove it in

reverse about ten miles in the

daytime. I would get in the turn

lane and look backward. I was

going in the slow lane. I didn't

get stopped by the cops so that was

kind of funny. People didn't know

what the fuck I was doing. I

didn't know what I'd say if

somebody asked me.

"Jim was working

at a liquor store, too. He

supplied me with boxes of wine. He

helped me put the headliner in the

bus. We drank wine and put the

lining in the bus.

"We got stuck

near the Salton Sea. We threw

sagebrush under the wheels and got

out. We went to Tucson. We'd been

there before. We knew what to

expect. It was November.

That time was invigorating! There was a

half inch of snow on the ground.

We parked in a lot there on Grant

and First. We didn't want to pay.

Some guy ran over my daughter's

foot but didn't hurt her,

but she came back to the bus

and she was crying and the guy came

behind her and apologized. No

harm, really. Near a bar, we met

Jack who was living on a bus. He'd

     left a note on our bus -- 'We live

     on a bus, too,' and he was a local

so we got in touch with him. His

girl's name was Mary.

"It was so

great to hook up with somebody else

who was living on a bus.

"He showed

us some of the things you could do

with a bus. We met people near

the 300 block of West Congress Street.

Jesse who was a hobo got stuff

from a chicken packer by bartering our

produce. Then he traded

the chicken to a meat packer for beef.

We were able to procure all our

groceries by going to the warehouse

and trading their scraps to others

for beef.

"We'd also sell our blood

at the blood bank."