As school is back in session all over the local area, this time of year is also marked by the return of public education’s transportation workhorse – the school bus.

Gone once again are the days when I could whisk down the roads into work on my early morning drive.  I now have to time my morning commute with the precision of a federal bank heist, where one minute out of-sync will mean the difference between an effortless drive or a journey filled with multiple stops behind two or three of those yellow, student-filled behemoths that bring traffic to a crawl.

Maybe I’m just getting old and cranky, but even this simple action (waiting for the bus) seems to be caught up in an environment of entitlement and self-absorbed parents and their kids that grates my nerves upon each and every encounter.  Don’t get me wrong, I understand wanting to get one’s kids off to school safely each morning, but it seems like more and more these days, I’m witnessing this scenario:

Mom or Dad has loaded up the kids into the SUV on a beautiful morning and driven fifty feet to the end of their driveway, where they wait with the kids in climate-controlled comfort.  Now – here comes the bus, clearly visible from a quarter-mile away.  It has also just stopped at another house (a mere one hundred feet away).  The bus now pulls up to its current stop, its red lights flashing and the door swung open to receive its passengers.  Only then do the student occupants start to gather their backpacks, lunchboxes, and other supplies.  They say their goodbyes to Mom or Dad, slowly open the vehicle doors, and casually stroll towards the waiting transport.  Ooops, little Timmy forgot his jacket.  He ambles back to the car, has a discussion with his parents, then shuffles back to the bus.  I can see him now inside, slowly traversing the aisle while he selects his seat.  He finally sits down and the bus can continue on its route, only to repeat the same scenario at the very next stop.

Oy Vey.

This thirty second event has now been lengthened to three minutes.  Now multiply this by twenty stops along the way (before the bus thankfully takes a turn and heads down a side road) – and that ten-minute commute is now edging towards forty-five minutes.  Yeeeesh.  God help you if it’s a raining morning, where the addition of umbrellas and ponchos (and parental escorts to and from the bus) can add another two or three minutes to each of these transactions.

I hate to be “that guy”, but I clearly remember waiting for the bus as a kid at a neighbor’s house across the road.  My brother and I walked there ourselves and waited outside in the elements.  If it rained, we huddled under the roof eaves to avoid getting wet.  I can also tell you that in mid-winter, we bundled up and waited – and needed no encouragement to quickly get on board once the bus pulled up.  We also had to be visible, because if the bus was chugging up the road and didn’t see anyone at the stop, it kept right on going (none of this stop-and-blow-the-horn stuff).  If we missed our pick-up, we had to hoof it a quarter mile down the road and hope to catch the bus when it returned to the corner from a dead-end road (for other pick-ups) – and even then we’d get the stink-eye and growled at by the driver.  Forgot your lunch?  Tough luck, kiddo, because today you are going without it.  Also, my mother never witnessed any of this, because she was at work.  Ahhhh, those were the days.       

There also seems to be a larger segment of the population that is driving their kids to school.  Part of this may have been pandemic-related, but I think anyone who has been in and around a local school (especially an elementary one) at morning drop-off or afternoon dismissal will agree that self-entitlement has crept into this area as well.  Pick-up is at 2:30 PM?  I don’t care – I’m gonna line-up at 1:30 PM.  There’s no way I’m going to let little Sierra/Zachary get picked up 27^th in line at 2:36 PM.  My girl/guy is a winner.  If they don’t see me at exactly 2:30, they will freak out, and I’ll have to double their anxiety meds.  Am I blocking the roadway?  I’ll just put on my flashers and ignore everyone.  Just go around me – can’t you see I’m reading my online book on my phone?  Is that an ambulance?  I’m sure they will pull around this parking lot train of forty cars that snakes back through the intersection.

There are generally dozens upon dozens of stationary cars clogging the roadways around any school site in the morning and afternoon.  While I don’t advocate road rage (or its unfortunate consequences), I can certainly understand the mindset when a confrontation happens during one of these events.  I’ve seen the videos, and honestly, I’m rooting for the angry dude who gets out of his car to confront Karen or Jerry for being a traffic menace.  You go, angry dude – you’re doing the Lord’s work.

So, if you’re out and about in the early mornings or late afternoons, add in some extra minutes to your travel time.  You never know when that big, yellow school bus may throw a hitch in your schedule.