The Wheels on the Bus Go... CRAZY

That's one messed up bus we're singing about in that song, you know?

I mean, you've got the wheels doing their thing, of course: 'Round and 'round; 'round and 'round. All over town.

And that's cool. Otherwise we'd have stranded passengers waiting forever, hoping to get picked up or dropped off by a completely immobile vehicle, and nobody wants that.

Then there are the wipers, swish-swish-swishing, and I'm fine with that too. Swish swish swish, swish swish swish. It could be raining. That's a real possibility. Wiping makes sense.

The problems start with the horn, though. If the horn on the bus goes "Beep, beep, beep; Beep, beep, beep; Beep, beep, beep" (and they do this "all over town," mind you), then I've got to ask, "What's the emergency?"

A single honk would probably suffice, no matter what the roadway issue might be - especially with that mondo bus horn the driver is packing. You've heard the horn on one of these things before, right? They reach up and yank that cord, man, and it's like the trumpets of Odin just let loose in your skull.

"Beep." Yeah, right. It's probably more of a "BLARE BLARE BLARE OH SWEET BISCUITS AND APPLE BUTTER WHAT JUST HAPPENED I THINK I PEED" for the poor pedestrians, right? None of this discreet "beep beep beeping," no sir. This thing is downright terrifying. Some maniacal driver deafening bystanders, nonstop, for no discernible reason. Great.

Even if there were something truly exceptional to honk about, honestly, like, say a wounded manatee had somehow beached itself in a busy intersection, and we needed to notify authorities both transportational and environmental, I still think just a couple of horn blasts - or, come on, now, a simple call over the CB radio, driver - would get the job done.

"Yeah, this is bus 973. We've got a sea cow down at Anderson and Park. Yep. Send the Sierra Club and a front-loader." Presto. Problem solved. No need for violating noise ordinances "alll over town."

Sheesh.

Plus, don't forget, this nut is making the doors go "open and shut" at the same time, more or less nonstop. And that's happening all over town too. In the rain. Is he trying to make the entry steps slippery? Does he want us to slip and fall and fracture our patellas? You have to ask.

It's really no wonder that the babies on the bus are going "wah wah wah," when you think about it. Incessant crying? Of course! The circumstances warrant it! Here you are, just a tot, thinking you're making some uneventful jaunt across town, making use of your public transportation infrastructure, trying to get out there and mingle with a different sort of crowd, and what do you get? A horn-blowing psychopath, tearing down Anderson Avenue, in the rain, ramming manatees, with the freaking DOORS OPEN. And shut. And open. And shut. "Wah wah wah" is right.

Those mommies on the bus - you know the ones I mean - telling these poor babies to "Shh shh shh" should be ashamed shamed shamed. That's a perfectly natural response to a crisis situation. To tell you the truth, I want to cry just thinking about it.

But I suppose it's all the same to the driver, this loonball. What's his story? Where's his reassurance to his understandably panicked passengers? How does he comfort their fears as the wheels go round and round, thumping over endangered ocean life like there's no tomorrow? Just what does this sick individual have to say for himself?

"Move on back, move on back, move on back."

I'm telling you, you're better off hitching a ride with the itsy bitsy spider. At least he has the good sense not to travel in a downpour.