Christmas on the Bus

'Tis the season for joy, gift giving, and....wait for it....(drum roll)...wait for it....tada! (cymbal crash) sugar!  Hey, if you don't believe me, just read the box.  You know, the one right in front of you.  (exasperated sigh) The box firmly planted directly under your nose and filling up your entire field of vision with the out of focus pattern of red, green, white, gold and silver blotches.

As this past Tuesday was the school district's last day before Christmas, I was getting buried under a pile of boxes and gift bags filled with delicious morsels and envelopes stuffed with gift cards to local fast food establishments.  I was hoping that a magical gift card to a local adult beverage establishment would appear, but alas, I must keep dreaming.

Anyhoo, I steered the bus up an icy, white hill.  (Yes, snow finally came to the great white tundra.)  I slid nicely to the end of a driveway.  Three little backpacks with legs marched on to the bus, two brothers and one cousin.

The first one got on to the bus with the biggest, toothy grin that he could fit between his ears.  His smile was so suspicious that he had no hope of joining the angel choir.  He thrusted a neatly wrapped present directly into my face.

"Merry Christmas," he said and went by to find a seat.

The second, also with the same disturbing smile, did the same.

"Merry Christmas," said he, and brushed by me.

Then, the third did the same, but with a smile more appropriate for a jack-o-lantern than a boy of first grade, as he was missing a couple of prominent teeth.  However, when he pushed the gift right into my face, I noticed that his present looked as if it had slept off one awful bender and the wrapping would have blow off if I had sneezed.

"Merry Chrithmuth."

All three found a seat and sat together, all foreheads, noses, and eyes staring directly at me.  And yes, those "I'm about to cause trouble" smiles still beamed from behind the back of the seat in front of the imp brigade.  I watched them the entire trip to school, but the only thing that occurred was several choruses of "Robin laid an egg, the bat mobile lost a wheel, and the Joker got away.  HEY!"

We arrived at school no worse for the wearing.  I opened the bus doors and said my "thank you's" and "Merry Christmas's" as each student disembarked.  As the wonder trio passed by, they displayed their smiles and sheepish waves.  I could no longer handle it, so I grabbed the youngest of the triad as he was always the last of the three in a row.

I asked, "what on earth are you three up to?"

The little jack-o-lantern admitted, "Well, before we got on the buth thith morning, granpop told uth that Thanta would haf ta watch uth on the buth and dethide whether he wath going to come to our houth on Chrithmuth Eve."

With that, he took his smile and his backpack and went into school.  After that, I had to try and find his granpop's phone number.

Originally posted on Facebook 12/23/15.   Roy Edward Power

#schoolbuskids

The Knock Knock Joke

I love when little kids try really hard at something they don't quite understand.  They bulldoze ahead as if nothing is wrong.  For instance, the knock knock joke.  On my school bus, they are all the rage, especially the interrupting cow knock knock joke:

"Knock, knock"

"Who's there?"

"Interrupting cow."

"Interrupting--"

"MOO!"

One child thinks is hysterical, but he is too polite to do the joke correctly.  Now, he started a new one: knock knock.

"Who's there?"

"Glasses."

"Glasses who?"

"Glasses who says moo!"

Originally posted on Facebook 11/23/15.    Roy Edward Power
#schoolbuskids

Boxes

This poem is from my writing archives.

When I was young, my family moved.  However, when I was old enough to be on my own, I moved A LOT.  I moved so often that boxes simply became part of my world.  In fact, it was so bad that I started to name my boxes.  Oh, a note: if this poem does not flow, it's simply missing its meter.  I am currently looking for the meter, which no doubt, was left on my school bus.

Boxes

by

Roy Edward Power

Boxes.

Surrounded by boxes.

Overwhelmed by boxes.

“Wait!  This is my house!”

Yet, still they sit,

Quietly contemplating their takeover.

One box at a time,

Being emptied of their precious loads.

Yet, still they loom,

Stern empty faces,

Looking for empty places,

Wishing we would just go away

And let them be.

Look how quietly they contemplate

How they would rearrange every plate,

Remodel the bathroom or den.

Look!  They are moving in!

Boxes, boxes,

Surrounded by,

Overwhelmed by - boxes.

They don’t consider the price,

They simply think that the living room is nice.

Boxes, boxes, boxes.

copyright - 24 June 1994

edited - 4 April 2005

Artistic Vision

This is the reason for the title of my blog, and the reasons my art is what it is.

I begin simply that I am a clown.  However, I do not fit the normal “concept” of “clown.”  You will find that I have never worn a red nose, an over-sized, loud costume, or over-sized shoes.  I have seldom worn a white face or goofy wig, nor tied balloon animals.  I am simply a Fool.

Many of us know the Fool as the Court Jester, a character described by Shakespeare and historians as a wise, truth-speaking character.  However, this character was often the victim of his own shortcomings.  Most Fools had speech, physical, or mental impediments.  The Court would spend their time laughing at how clumsily he walked or stuttered about.  They never heard the eloquent words the Fool spoke, only laughed at the physical deformity.  This, combined with a slight touch of anarchy, kept the Fool from “fitting in” or “being normal,” and thus, solitary.  Cast into the fringes of society, the fool was the perfect witness to the comings and goings of the public at large.

With many performers, my clown is my alter-ego.  His name is Caesar, a rather innocent ten-to-twelve-year-old child.  Like most children, he is at home deep within his imagination, playing the role of pirate or some other entity, freely exploring an imagined world.  However, like most children just learning to play with a new toy, he lacks control, and the imagination gets the upper hand by creating a monster under the bed or in the closet or basement.  So, his best friend, and his worst enemy, is his imagination.  However, imagination is the flying carpet that allows Caesar to constantly journey in search of new discoveries and new ways to express those jewels of wonder.  Through this, Caesar is kept connected to the energies that swim around him, he is aware, and grounded to the world that we all live in, which can never be one color, one person, one idea, one texture, or one physical plain of existence.  Caesar’s journey becomes life’s journey, a journey that is as open as one can be to the world’s textures, colors, and forms.  Consequently, Caesar’s journey is filled with brightness, joy, and freshness.

So, my art is the creation of worlds as they are lived and interpreted through my clown, Caesar.  These sketches, if you will, come to me in the form of stories, pictures, and dialogues.  This is why my expression is not just in one form, but in many (storytelling, writing, performing, directing, painting, drawing, photographing, and video-making).  I simply listen to Caesar, and the doorways are open.

                                                                                     --Roy Edward Power      April, 2011

Keep coming back.  New things are added periodically.  Also, to check out my visual art, go to www.mnartists.org.  Look for Roy Edward Power.  Follow me Facebook.  Thanks.

The Foot Game

So as I have said before, I must have an unusual bus.  I know this, because I have talked to the other bus drivers.  I know that this does not seem possible because the bus looks like every other school bus on the road.  Okay, maybe a bit of rust in places, but still the typical yellow with black striped bus that you see.

So, it is not uncommon that the front two seats where the kids sit have a big "back of seat" barrier in front of them, and, as such, there are places in these barriers where a foot can go through.  Of course, this leads to the always popular game of tag or peek-a-boo that occurs between driver, student(s) getting on, and the foot of the student sitting in the front seat.

One day I got tired of this, and promptly announced to the student sitting in the front seat (so that the whole bus could hear) that he should not begin the "game" as the troll will surely grab his foot and take his shoe.

"There's a troll on the bus?...no there isn't."

"Oh yes, he lives under the steps."

"Really?...."

"Yes."

"No there isn't!"

"Okay, suit yourself, but he is very fond of shoes and boots...especially if they are extremely stinky."

The child kept to his game.

On the third day of the "foot game," I had to get up and go to the back of the bus to sedate some of the "mad" behavior.  As I turned to head back to the front of the bus, there was a blood curdling scream.  When I got back to the driver's seat, all I could understand was that a hand grabbed on to the student's shoes and began to pull.  In the confusion, one shoe disappeared.

Fortunately, the student had a spare pair of shoes to wear.  But, sad to say, I can not say where that shoe disappeared to, but the "foot game" is no longer in practice on my bus.

 #schoolbuskids.    Originally posted on Facebook autumn 2015.   Roy Edward Power

Doppelgängers

I seem to have a very unique school bus.  I have talked to all the other drivers and none of them have a "nuther world" button.  

In order to get this button to work, the bus has to be going at a certain speed (don't know what that is) and you have to count to three.

Now some kids make to a nuther world, but no one ends up in the same place.  (I sincerely hope that this does not reflect on the driver's frame of mind.). I suppose that makes sense as I have been told that I keep missing some of the kids hiding in the corn fields.

Of course, I tell them that if they want to be picked up, they should not hide from the driver.  And when I show up at each students' real stop, the student is waiting oh so nicely (only to be told that it was not student)....Gee, I hope their doppelgängers are friendly....

#schoolbuskids.  Originally posted on Facebook Autumn 2015.  Roy Edward Power