STA Takes over Delgrosso Park

The above picture represents over 100 years of school bus/van driving experience. These are the people the Altoona School District PROUDLY employs to transport the Future of America, to school. That being said, they should never under any circumstance EVER be allowed to assemble at any amusement park in the future. Let me start this post by first stating that I had nothing to do with the DelGrosso Park Security being called. Nor is their any witness to any alleged crimes that may or may not have occurred. Furthermore, I can not be held responsible for the misconduct of my fellow drivers and in no way do I accept responsibility for any damaged rides, picnic tables or park personnel. For the record, there is NO documented evidence in the form of photographs or video that would implement me in the defacement of any park buildings with blue cotton candy. I feel I need to be specific on this point... the BLUE cotton candy. I may or may not have been in contact with PINK cotton candy as the hours of 11:00 am to 12:00 noon are somewhat fuzzy to my recollection.

The Wrist Band Incident:
In my defense, I was not pre-warned that there would be park employees attaching FREE RIDE wrist bands to our wrist. When the young girl named Rachel attempted to attach a wrist band to my wrist, the experience awakened a latent fear of commitment on my part. Being a twice divorced professional, I sometimes suffer PTMS (Post Traumatic Marital Syndrome) which triggers my fight or flight response. I immediately began running down Route 220 and was fortunately stopped somewhere near Bellwood. When it was fully explained to me that Rachel was simply a park employee and not trying to marry me, I was able to return to the park unscathed.

The Potato Salad Meltdown:
Doesn't everyone loathe false advertising or is it just me? Allow me to explain. DelGrosso Park is famous for their Potato Salad so I of course endeavored to purchase said potato salad along with my Marianna's Italian Hoagie and refreshing root beer beverage. How in the name of Sam Hill can you run a Food Court that advertises potato salad and then allow yourself to run out of it before I've had a chance to purchase any. There should be a law prohibiting this practice and I may write my congressman. If Trump wants to make America great again he can start by assuring us hungry bus drivers, that potato salad will be available upon request.

The Tower of Death:

DelGrosso Park has this torture device they call "The Free Fall Tower". Basically they strap you in a seat with a harness and seat belt from the 1950's. They elevate you to a height of about 30,000 feet, then without warning, Drop you from heaven at speeds approaching the sound barrier. For the record, I did not want to go on this mid-evil, suicidal death drop. But my fellow female co-workers (Lori Bond, Lisa Yohn, Clarissa Clinger and Andrea Butler) were in desperate need of my calming influence. Basically they begged me to save them from this ravenous hell ride and me, being the chivalrous man hunk that I am, was unable to refuse 4 delightful damsels in distress. Besides... they were calling me a sissy boy if I didn't get on. As we began our ascent. I closed my eyes BUT ONLY so I could lead us in prayer for the safety of the women on the ride. When we reached the summit I attempted to calm my frightened friends by screaming out a hymn I learned as a lad... "Closer My Lord to Thee". Unfortunately at that height, it sounded more like I was shouting, "Get me Edger Snyder on the Phone... I wanna Sue DelGrosso Park!!!!!" Then without warning... it happened. They say your life passes before you when you're about to die. Well paint me red and call me a barn but that drop was so fast I only got to the part where I was conceived. In closing and for the record, the wetness on the front of my pants was from rain water that was still laying in a puddle on the seat.

The Day I ALMOST Got Hustled By a 6 Year Old

Look at me. All happy and enjoying the company of my good friend Tim Behe and his lovely daughter Elsie. Sipping on a chocolate milk shake and livin' la vida loca at Vale Wood Farms. Little did I know that a mere 15 minutes later I was about to be hustled by a 6 year old ring toss hustler.

Allow me to paint this picture.

I'm on a Field Trip to Vale Wood Farms, with 30 some kindergartners and their adult supervisors. I'm chillin'. Having a good time as the picture above will witness, when I decided to gather 10 or 15 of these munchkins in a circle to explain economics to them. You see, they had just received their ice cream cones, which along with the smell of manure, is just one of the many benefits to visiting Vale Wood Farms.

Where was I... oh yes... the ice cream cones and economics. So I'm explaining wages and 401K's with these cherub faced, ice cream eating kindergartners when I get to the part about taxes. So I'm explaining how they each owe me 25% of their ice cream cones and I'd be around before they got back on the bus, to collect. Yeah. A few of them were brought to tears but how do you think I feel when Uncle Sammy takes his cut from me? Exactly. I'm providing a service here.

Anyway, after taking a healthy bite out of 4 or 5 cones I noticed one little girl playing ring toss all by herself. She wasn't eating an ice cream cone. Evidently she was a fast eater and had devoured her cone before I had the chance to collect.

So this little punk kid thinks she can roll Pat Stuckey on her ice cream tax?
I don't think so!
I'm not havin' it!
Nope. Pat Stuckey is not as dumb as he looks, people!

So I challenges little Miss "I already ate my cone" to a game of ring toss.
If I win... she has to wash the windows on the bus.
If she wins... she gets to drive the bus home.
Don't worry... I got this.

So it's my turn first and I toss a perfectly targeted blue ring towards the third bowling pin to the right. It was hanging on by a strand but it counted all the same! The little girl calmly walked up to the line and tossed a pink ring with the same velocity and trajectory as my ring and knocked my ring right off and landed hers firmly around the pin. Oh... so that's how we're gunna play this?

A hush grew over the crowd as it was now my turn for a second toss. With all the confidence of an Olympic Ring Toss athlete I hurled my green ring through the perfect azure blue sky. It was AWESOME. It seemed to just hang suspended in mid-air and float gently towards the bowling pins. However. It landed a foot short of the target. The little girl stepped to the line then taunted me by closing her eyes and hurling her ring in a willy-nilly manner. Hers landed perfectly on a bowling pin. Spun three times then came to rest.

Little Girl 2. Bus Driver 0.
No problem... I still had 3 more rings.

With all the determination and heart of a champion, I reared back my arm and gave my yellow ring a mighty ring toss thrust at the bowling pins. God Almighty could not have kept that ring from landing on it's target. God Almighty couldn't but a frickin' gust of wind did. Were talkin' Hurricane force wind. Maybe an F5 Tornado. Whatever. I missed the bowling pins by a good two feet. The little girl didn't even bother aiming. She tossed her ring up on the roof of the barn only to turn her back as it glided down the roof, fell over the edge and landed smack dab on a bowling pin.

I called a foul.
"Hey... that's cheating! You're not allowed to use any foreign objects in Ring Toss and she just banked that one off the barn. No Fair! No Do-overs!"

The score remained 2-0. It's go time!
Actually... it's go for the tie time.

By now a rather large group of children and adult supervisors, gathered to watch, what they were calling, "A Girl beat the Bus Driver in Ring Toss." I deftly averted their attention away from the bowling pins, "Hey, isn't that President Trump by that cow?", then ran over and dropped my ring directly on top of the 1st pin. The Front pin... the Bonus pin.

Oh you didn't know about the bonus pin?

Yeah. The bonus pin is worth like 50 points. If you get a ringer on the bonus pin you automatically win. It's in the rules. It totally is. Look it up if you don't believe me.

So yeah. This was the day I ALMOST got hustled by a 6 year old.
I must say, she did I nice job cleaning the windows.

The Wisdom of Solomon OR A Snap Decision

I struggled with the naming of this post because on the one hand, the wisdom I used to solve a problem was quite Biblical BUT it was also a bit of a snap decision. Allow me to explain.

It started out to be a peaceful, serene rainy Friday morning. Nothing of any great note. Yes one student was nearly speared by another student with his umbrella but that falls under the heading of normal. I did have mud and gunk splash up on my window by an 18 wheeler driving down 6th Avenue but that's happened before and probably will again. Oh, and I did have a car ALMOST run my flashing red lights today because evidently my bus isn't big enough or yellow enough or that text message she was sending was more important... but once more... been there/done that.

No today was turning out to be a pleasant, lazy start to my weekend until........

(Gemma) "MR. STUCKEY! MR. STUCKEY! PEYTON TOOKED MY PENCIL!!"

(Peyton) "NUH UH MR. STUCKEY! THIS IS MY PENCIL! GEMMA JUST THINKS IT'S HER PENCIL BUT IT'S NOT!"

(Gemma) "IT'S MY PENCIL PEYTON! IT'S YELLOW AND HAS A 2 ON IT!"

(Peyton) "NUH UH!"

(Me) "Alright you two, quit yelling, I'm right here. Now Gemma, why do you think the pencil is yours BESIDES the fact it's yellow and has a 2 on it?"

(Gemma) "Because I was playing with it and sat it down and Peyton tooked it!"

(Me) "Well first off, you shouldn't have had it out while the bus was moving and you certainly shouldn't have been playing with it. Peyton, did you see Gemma playing with her pencil, then picked it up?"

(Peyton) "No. I got it for Easter in my Easter basket."

Hmmmmm... you can see my dilemma. How do I know which 6 year old is telling me the truth? I know, I'll go all Biblical on them.

"Okay girls, here's how we'll settle it. I'm going to snap the pencil in half and give you each one half."

Peyton shrieked and started to cry. Gemma was all to eager to pocket half a pencil. Huh... that old Bible tale actually works.

From "MOO" to YOU

Today, I had the up most pleasure and honor to transport 19 preschool children, ages 4-5, from "The Academy" on Logan Blvd. to Vale Wood Farms in Loretto, PA.

Talk about amped up!

These rambunctious youngin's practically broke the sound barrier (if not my eardrums) with their high pitched hoots and hollers of glee. Seems they had never been on an actual school bus, so today's trip offered not only a chance to meet real live moo cows... but to be escorted in the luxury of STA's finest transport... The Big Yellow pot hole seaking limo called Bus 24.

It was a mere 25 minute drive up the mountain and our final destination, fortunately, coincided with the approximate limit of these tiny tots even tinier bladders. We made it juuuuuust in the potty break nick of time.

Twenty minutes later the children's tour began where they learned everything about COWS and MILK from the "MOO" to the "YOU".

At least 25% of these cherub faced preschoolers asked, with the sincerest of hearts, if they could take one of the cows home with us on the bus. For the record, STA frowns upon farm animals in the cabin area of their school buses.

Sincere hearts broken!
An even BIGGER potential potty break mishap averted.
(Those cows left some gimundous sized cow patties in the stables... score one for STA's "No Animals in the cabin" policy)

I couldn't help myself but to amaze the cow maiden giving the tour when she asked if there were any questions. I queried...

"How come cow stools only have 3 legs instead of 4?"

She didn't know so I told her...

"Because the cow's got the utter... get it... he's got the utter... that's where the 4th leg is... funny huh?"

The other adults were able to successfully negotiate my return to the tour as long as I didn't ask any more questions or try to tell any more jokes.

After an ice cream break, we had some down time where I was peppered with the following questions...

"Why your name?" (He meant What is your name?)
"Do you live in the bus?"
"Can I live in the bus?"

Now it was my turn to ask a question, so I asked one little freckle faced girl named Addison, where she thought ice cream came from. She quickly answered, "From Cows." She in turn asked me if I like ice cream because I wasn't eating any. I answered her that I prefer Cake and Pie then asked her where she thought cakes and pies came from. Without missing a beat she replied, "From Birthday Parties!"

I couldn't have said it better.