Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Notes on a bus trip

It's 5:02 in the morning. Why the hell am I up at this hour? Better yet, why the hell am I writing at this hour? Well, yes, I might truly be insane, but I also just got home. No, I wasn't out carousing at the bars, I just got home from a road trip in Harrisburg. I slept a bit on the bus, but then had to drive a car for twenty minutes. Now I can't go back to sleep, so I'm trying to write myself to sleep.

Here's some thoughts from the trip:

10:37 pm:
I'm talking on the phone to my wife just outside of the bus, prior to its departure, when suddenly a giant teenager rushes me. It turns out to be Bumgarner. "Hey, let's go catch a 'possum!" he excitedly yells. Since nobody can turn down this enthusiasm, I tell my wife I'll have to talk to her later; 'possum hunting comes first.

We chase a 'possum up a tree, crawl into the tree, and then search for another. Nearly sprayed by a skunk, we unsuccessfully return as Madison talks of spiders. The bus nearly leaves us as we sprint the last 50 yards.

12:12 am
My wife calls to tell me goodnight. The movie "Pineapple Express" is on and I can barely hear her. The conversation lasts approximately 32 seconds.

12:47 am
"Pineapple Express" ends, much to the chagrin of any stoners present. Many guys are sleeping on the floor by now, others in their seats. One teammate attempts to put on "300", but I exercise movie veto powers, a rarely used and somewhat risky move, due to its noisiness.

1:19 am
We pass NYC via the George Washington Bridge and witness a stunning view. This prompts a question from EME, sitting in the seat directly in front of me, regarding my location when 9/11 occurred. We quietly share stories.

1:22 am
I help EME with the drafting of an email directed at a landlord issue. We then talk about the meaning of life and the days of yore in San Jose.

1:31 am
Having solved various existentialists' dilemmas, I decide to attempt sleep. I lie on the floor next to several other guys, pillow beneath my head. I soon discover that it's hard to sleep with someone else's foot up your ass.

2:25 am
In and out of sleep, I find that the bus vibrations do not produce the same effect as shiatsu massage, as one might hope.

4:18 am
We pull into Dodd Stadium. Each zombie grabs a bag and flings it in the clubhouse. An evening chill stings me as I grab my things and hop into a mist-covered car. I begin my barely conscious drive home, nearly hitting a construction worker.

4:38 am
A minute from my host mom's house, a critter runs out in front of me. Oddly enough, it's an opossum (possibly the same 'possum we chased; perhaps I'm dreaming by now) and I slam on my brakes to avert sending it to its grave. With a slight smile I'm now completely awake.

4:41 am
I walk into my host mom's house and find a note stating that for some reason my room has changed. I eat a snack and can't sleep.

5:11 am
I fall asleep while blogg.............................................................................................................................................................

11:05 am
I re-awake and feel like a group of seamen used my back to illustrate different knot tying techniques. Luckily I'm not pitching today. (It's the 'possum catching teenager's turn.)

3 comments:

David V. Sanders said...

I coached against that possum-catchin teenager in high school. We faced him 9 times in 4 years and went 1-8. In retrospect, that's a pretty good record. He is a freak of nature.

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