Bus trips: The good, the bad, and the ugly

On Tuesday, March 13, the Old Men of the Mountain met at Mrs. K’s Restaurant in the heart of Middleburgh.

Unfortunately, or fortunately (depending on which side the OFs were on), this scribe was not there. This scribe was not feeling too well and, not wanting to be embarrassed, decided to stay home.

This gave the scribe a chance to review notes from past meetings and use those for the basis of this report. They will not be current events but will be subjects discussed at the breakfast. The current event will be an observation of the scribe: Enough with this snow and mid-winter temperatures!

This scribe supposes that, as the OFs talk about bus trips, many senior groups take advantage of these excursions. Listening to the OFs talk, you learn there are good bus trips and bad bus trips.

One OF summed it up by saying it all depends on three things:

— Number one: The carrier has to be a reliable, responsible one, with a congenial driver;

— Number two: It has to start off well; if it starts off poorly, it never seems to correct itself; and

— Number three: It is good to go with some friends. If the people on the bus mesh quickly then the trip is going to be a good one.

“If, by chance,” the OF said, “The bus is old and smells of diesel fuel, the driver is a cranky OG, with most of the people a bunch of complainers, then the best thing to do is get off at the first rest stop, rent a car and go home.”

The big “however” here is most of the trips the OFs have been on seem to be very agreeable affairs. Some of these trips are not long. They travel to the casinos in the area.

The OFs go often enough that trip is like taking a city bus from Delmar or Guilderland to downtown Albany. Some go to plays in New York City; some go to see either a Yankee or Mets game. Generally, when the OFs go on one of these trips it is the topic of conversation when they return — good or bad.

When the OFs go to see a play, they may mention the play was OK, but what they really talk about is the bus trip, or where they ate once they arrived in New York. They would talk about who were troublemakers on the bus, and what happened to them, or the OFs would mention just plain bus gossip.

A few of the trips were, at best, endurance trips for the OFs because they were overnights as a rule and were shopping trips for the better half. The OFs say they don’t really need anything, and for anything they do need there is always Tractor Supply, and Wal-Mart.

The OFs maintain they don’t need a 500-mile bus ride so the little lady can spend hours shopping and purchase little. One OF said they have to buy something so the wife can say she bought such-and-such some place in some exotic shopping center.

One OF mentioned that, if they want to go shopping in Kittery, Maine, he is all for that because he can get lost in the Kittery Trading Post. Another OF said that the newer buses are like traveling from your favorite chair at home. They are quiet and comfortable with TVs like airplanes have and, when you’re with a good group of people, it is really the way to go.

Another OF added it is just like flying, or taking a boat ride: What do you do once you get to where you are going? It seems that unless you follow the crowd you are stuck.  “If I can drive,” the OF said, “I am going to drive.”

Another OF jumped in saying, “That is OK on long trips with overnights, but on one-day trips — say to a ball game — give me the bus.  All the driving hassles are gone.”

Size demise

The OFs at one time discussed a rare topic, almost feminine like, and that is what has happened to the sizing of clothes. The OFs say they used to know what size they were and could go and buy a shirt labeled large and it would fit.

The length would be long enough to stay tucked in; the shoulders and arm lengths would be perfect. Now nothing fits all within the same size. T-shirts are shorter and the same size they were 20 years ago is tight.  “Clothing sizes have gone the way of the candy bar,” one OF said.

“Jeans! That is a whole ’nother story,” an OF added.

The zippers used to be long enough to get the dumb things over our hips. However, now the zippers are only four inches long, and width-wise this OF can’t figure out what is going on. His pants say 38 inches but 38-inch jeans lack three or four inches of closing.

“Maybe it is your shape that has changed,” one OF suggested, to which the reply came: “Thirty-eight inches is 38-inches. You can’t change that.”

It used to be a pant leg was a pant leg. Now there are all different kinds of pant legs and, if the OF grabs the wrong one, the OF can’t bend over. Again, the OF’s physical build became the subject: “It is your gut that won’t let you bend, you OG, not the pants”!

The Old Men of the Mountain who made it to Mrs. K’s Restaurant in Middleburgh, and thank goodness they all had their pants on, were: Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Glenn Patterson, Mark Traver, Jim Heiser, Bill Lichliter, Otis Lawyer, Harold Guest, John Rossmann, Mace Porter, Jack Norray, Herb Bahrmann, Wayne Gaul, Lou Schenck, Mike Willsey, Warren Willsey, Joe Rack, Elwood Vanderbilt, Harold Grippen, and not me.