Bussing, Idaho style

We had the bus in common. We were a minority, representing not more than 10 percent of the population. We were different. Our shirts carried barbwire scars. Feeding the animals before school meant the horses, not a cat, and we caught the school bus each morning before the town kids were crawling out of bed. We weren't necessarily poorer, dumber or dirtier, although little Billy did smell a bit off.

I always chose my seat carefully, moving past the open seat and not venturing too far back where the older boys huddled and plotted. With luck I'd find a seat next to the high school girl, not because her eyes danced and her smile made me feel strangely electric, but so Billy, from the next stop, couldn't settle in next to me.

The older girl, who had more curves than our foothill commute, and I didn't speak. I tried once and gurgling sounds spilled from my mouth. I remember how her bare knees pressed against the fiberglass seat in front and that her feet reached the Juicy Fruit-ridden floor. My legs dangled awkwardly, not long enough for the floor and not bending much due to the iron-on patch over my knees.

A world of smells wafted through the bus. With the front door open, little Billy filled the air. Later, while on the move, English Leather, Hai Karate, diesel exhaust and a bit of pasture manure from a big kid's boot would invade my nostrils from the back. Then, a not unpleasant blend would prevail near my middle seat as Breck shampoo, Dippity Doo and Coppertone from the longest smoothest legs on the planet added to the mix.

I watched the rolling hills out the smeared window past Maybelline lips. There was no music, no ear buds, no iPods. Walkmans hadn't yet been invented. We bussed in ordered silence, subject to the occasional muffled groan, back seat catcall, and Billy's flatulence.

Always motion sick at some level, I willed back my breakfast of hominy, bacon and toast. I envied the town kids - their short walk and their Lucky Charms breakfasts.

One morning, upon exiting the bus, I was jostled against the town tough guy in the parking lot as he stepped from his Firebird. He took offense and the opportunity to impress his toadies by locking me in a half nelson and yanking on my tighty whities.

Just as quickly he was stood down by Sir English Leather and Mr. Manure Boots. In a blur I was dropped in a heap. Then, I felt someone tussle my hair and Ms. Coppertone reached down, helped me up and brushed me off.

Great Inventions: Who invented Shampoo?

In 1924, Kasey Herbert is one of the first known inventors of shampoo. He is also attributed with its origin. Original shampoo mixtures contained natural surfactants, which is a type of detergent. Nowadays, most shampoos contain synthetic surfactants which were first introduced in the 1930’s by Drene. Sake Dean Mahomed used the term champo but never actually washed hair. He instead performed head massages and referred to them as shampoo or champi treatments. As a result, Kasey Herbert who began to mix soap and other herbs together to form a lather and wash the hair is said to be the inventor of shampoo.

Lies to live by

Shampoo planet

The scenic route, a novel

Drops of Dew, Do You Have a Former Life?

Black diaspora