Honking the Horn.

When I was a child and on occasion found myself of the side of a busy street, it was always entertaining and wildly daring to encourage truckers and bus drivers to sound their air horns. It never got old, and I'm sure you probably know exactly what arm signal I am talking about: the fist clenched, forearm vertical, and making up and down motions... as if tugging down on the imaginary cord that honks the horn. Sometimes the drivers would ignore us, but the ones who didn't and heeded our juvenile suggestion instantly became awesome in our eyes. A rather simple act that made us kids feel on top of the world, as if we were a part of their professional lives, if just for a moment. The loud sound became our voice to the world. We were strong! We owned the sky!

Just the other day I was driving my bus on Glacier Highway, with a bus full of passengers, and we passed a group of kids at a lemonade stand. They stood at the edge of the curb, all excitedly yelling and making that familiar vertical fist pump. It took me a second to realize that they were making that signal to me. It was vaguely familiar, but I found myself in the position of power. I was their hero! I delivered the sound that roared through the valley, caused my passengers to chuckle, and made their dreams come true, if just for that moment. I am a bus driver... and I make kids happy.