Velociworld

Took one of those GREYHOUNDS from Birmingham to Jackson in about 1958. Normal drive time by car, 3 hours. By bus, 18 hours. I never saw so many pig trails across the country side in my life. Stopped at them all too.

I used to take the bus from Atlanta to Birmingham many weekends in my adolescence, after my pa split to B-ham. Sometimes the express route, but usually the local, which took some 5 hours to get there...Marietta, Douglasville, Villa Rica, Temple, Bremen, Waco, Tallapoosa, Fruithurst Heflin, stop for a snack break at Anniston, Eastaboga, Pell City, Leeds, and finally the sweaty, diesel-choked hub in Birmingham. The trauma is with me still, as you see. That's a pretty bus, though.

What I think is cool looking is that silver travel trailer thing - what's it called? They were very luxurious on the inside. Silver something ...

Airstream. That was the name I was trying to think of.

Mama put me on the bus in Corinth to go see my methodist minister uncle in Jackson TN. Told the driver to watch out for her boy. Smoked my first joint on the back of that bus with a couple of fro sporting brothers from Tupelo.

Then they gang raped me.......

I shoulda known they were a little too quick with the free Marley joint. It was tough explaining arriving at the bus terminal sans drawers to the congregation when uncle mentioned I might need extra prayer the following Sunday.

Bitterman: Yikes! That takes the cake for crappy road trips! That sucks! The thought of an unattended kid on a bus makes me shudder.

When I was 16, I took the bus from Idaho to Nebraska (alone) to visit relatives. The bus to Idaho Falls was a combination mail/passenger carrier. On the leg to Wyoming, a shackled prisoner and his guard got on and sat at the front of the bus. I guess the guy was being transferred somewhere so he could testify at a murder trial.

During the lengthy layover in Salt Lake, I got accosted by a drunk guy who insisted I was his wife and that I needed to come home with him. Another guy stepped in and got rid of him - and then the "rescue" guy, a Mexican dude named Marcelino, turned out to be almost as bad. I finally got rid of him, and continued onward.

Had a fairly enjoyable trip the rest of the way. A pair of British teenagers sat two seats back and argued about whether American buffalo should actually be called bison. It's not nice to eavesdrop, but I really was enjoying their conversation.

On the return trip, I sat next to what appeared to be a sweet little old lady. She gave me a Hershey's chocolate bar with almonds, then proceeded to try to turn me into a Mormon. I will say it killed some time! In Colorado, this guy about my age got on. Actually, he was a first year student at the Air Force Academy, and he was heading home to Washington to see his family. Sigh. I had an instant crush. Made me almost want to miss my stop. Well, he was good company for a short time. I wonder whatever became of him.

That was my one and only experience with Greyhound. I don't think I'll ever travel that way again. It was kind of creepy then. I would imagine it's only gone downhill.