Read Next

The Great American School Bus Conversion: Part 2

I was just thinking about fifteen minutes ago, "I don't think I've ever personally used the word foist before". Not that I remember every word I've said, necessarily, but I think I'd remember if I said foist. Today I resolve to use the word foist at least once in a natural context - so watch out for that.

When we last left our heroes, we had just taken all of the seats out of our mighty new school bus.

To get this party started, check out the official BtyB-Time-Machine satellite photo of the bus. This is in no way blantantly ripped from google maps :

In my dreams...

On The Tiny Octopus

In my dreams I am unfailingly optimistic...

I own a single propeller engine car/plane hybrid that I mooched off eBay and park at the side of my place. When I want to go out on a food run I back it out of the side of the house and eyeball a small stretch of road near my house. It's good enough. I turn on the engines and launch myself into the air with barely enough space before the road ends. It's OK though - I made it up into the air - and nary a negative thought enters my mind. Yes I just busted out a plane and launched it in the middle of a residential district.

As I launch higher into the atmosphere I look outside the open cockpit at the city. I look at the buildings and green trees and parks and the expanses of urbanization that go on forever. It is breathtakingly beautiful. I just look at the horizon beyond and stare at it in a sort of infatuation. I'm just going on a food run. I maneuver the plane a bit and dip low as I'm nearing my destination. I am skimming the tops of apartment buildings, trees, dipping up not to hit tall power lines and I love every minute of it.

As I'm in the air approaching my usual landing strip - a small wide stretch of park jogging trail in a forested park my mind goes thru some passing thoughts. Won't I get in trouble for flying a single engine wherever I want in post-911 paranoid America? Nah... it's just me... it'll be alright... I can explain it away. I'm not a terrorist just a guy in a single engine enjoying life. The thought passes thru my consciousness as quickly as it came. I also realize I am not wearing a parachute or have any sort of plan in place if my salvaged single engine suddenly died thousands of feet in the air. I have a passing thought about all the people who'd be sad if I suddenly passed due to any number of accidents that happened from flying this thing. My mind quickly retorts with: Sudden plane crashes are extremely rare and can be avoided with simple preparation. Don't fly in bad weather. If the plane starts failing it's a single engine prop - just glide it down to a safe landing zone. Do whatever you need to keep the plane up as long as possible. It's alright. The thought quickly exits my mind as well because in my dreams I am unfailingly optimistic. I am in my element and I am happy.

The stretch of park looms up ahead and I dip the plane hard to prepare my landing. I seem to be going a bit fast for the ground and the landing site may not be long enough. It's OK though I've done this before - I know what I'm doing. I dip the plane down hard then angle the nose upwards while applying the airbrakes. The plane's engines cut out and I'm gliding over the ground. I am slowing down somewhat in the air and the approach is perfect. I land smoothly but I am still going a bit fast and the park trail ends up ahead. I slam the groundbrakes hard and the plane screeches and spins out right before hitting the trees. It was still about 50 feet though and I was supremely confident it'd stop. I recover from the spinout and taxi down the park trail as usual into a McDonalds parking lot. What time is it? I don't know probably about dawn perhaps 5 or 6am or pm - some time when the sun is either going up or going down.

Rendering New Theme...