I've previously referred to the basic last decade of my school board career, spent as the one man cleaning crew at a school bus lot, as a generally happy and low pressure environment. Yes, we LAUSD employees, the sweating ones anyway, know our primary responsibility is to the students. There were none there, luck of the draw. Or the roll.

The school bus mystique on site was plentiful: for the prototype, the parking lot was numbered for 270-plus of the machines and while as the years rolled there were pockets of black top stretching out in the yellow biomechanical mass---well, there were still lots of buses period!

In the offices were many examples of fealty to the rolling infrastructure to the facility: bus pillows, bus models (like the wind up ones which sailed off the cabinet tops I was dusting), mugs, erasers, covers . . .

Now, not to endorse drinking, but I have a blog to complete:

The Victory brewery from Pennsylvania---home state to my parents---has at least two of my favorite ales in its arsenal. The other day I spotted the story of the company on a sampler box: two fifth graders met on a school bus in the keystone state, became pals, and, in legal age---we would hope---became the partners who founded this concern.

You never know when hanging around school buses. But I can't find any on greeting cards!