And Sometimes In The Springtime and Sometimes In The Fall...

I wear my pink pajamas in the summer when it hot
and I wear my woolen undies in the winter when it's not
and sometimes in the springtime
and sometimes in the fall
I jump between the sheets with nothing on at all!

Glory glory hallelujah
Glory glory what's it to ya?
sometimes in the springtime and sometimes in the fall
I jump between the sheets with nothing on at all! Woo!

One redeeming grace of going to summer camp was that big yellow school bus, my only experience during my school days of transportation other than biking or shoe leather express.  And we sang.  Badly, off tune, oft rude lyrics made up on the spur of the moment (scatological humor was huge amongst grade school kids; still is as far as I know) that implied knowledge we really didn't possess.  We sang "Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog" - that was our most contemporary offering.  We sang "We All Live In A Yellow School Bus".  "Bingo".  "The Ants Go Marching One By One, Hurrah".  "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall".  "Little Bunny FuFu".  "John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt", "Found A Peanut", "Do Your Ears Hang Low", "Titanic", "Rise and Shine", "There's A Hole In The Bucket", "Three Cheers for the Busdriver" (Three-ee cheers for the busdriver, the busdriver, the busdriver, three cheers for the busdriver the worst of them all.  He's calm, he's cool, he drives like a foo-ool...) and numerous others, which kept us entertained on the interminable ride through Fairfield, Trumbull, Easton and Monroe to our destination.  According to Mapquest, the distance as the car drives is around 16 miles, but we didn't drive as the car drives.  Up and down side streets, stopping every so often to pick up a camper, down Ruane Street, up the Post Road, up Sturges, up Burr Street, up by the Aspetuck Reservoir, through the back streets of Easton to Sport Hill Road, right onto Route 59 and then right into camp.  This route was so ingrained that by the time I finally got my driver's license and had an opportunity to solo, this was my chosen practice route.  Following in the tire tracks of that old yellow school bus.

Not my actual car but close; mine had cancer of the rocker panels, which I 'repaired', thus earning my Bessie the title of "The Bondo Beast".  She went on to a restorer when I sold her; her new owner stopped by a year later and took me for a ride in the newly restored, candy-apple red, now valuable vintage car.  I wanted to cry.  1969 Plymouth Sport Sattelite Convertible, 8-cylinder, 383 engine.  I miss her to this day.

I found out just now, by using Mapquest, that my high school experience might have been far different, if I had taken the bus instead of riding my bike or walking.  Because I discovered that my house is 1.44 miles from the high school.  For some reason (probably my frequent absences during 8th grade and missing all the guidance counselors from Ludlowe who came to speak) I was never on the school bus route list.  Maggie Hyde lived about 1/4 mile down Old Field Road and she rode the bus.  Life is indeed unfair.