The folks who sit in the co-pilot seat are usually pretty needy. Crazy folks, crackheads looking for transfer money, horny ladies after the busdriver. Oh yeah, I get that all the time. Well, I used to get it more, but you never know. I mean, I'm not much of one to flirt with any of them. I know that if they do it to me, they do it to every busdriver they ride with.

Some mornings start out real cold and you almost can't stand to open that door. I tell you, some mornings I'm just huddled up with a blanket wrapped around me in the seat. If I'm driving one of the replacement units, I gotta bring my little heater, too. It gets cold sometimes.

When I was a kid, my daddy drove a 1964 Chevy Impala that he painted bright yellow. It was the Yellow Jacket, that's what he called it. He was forever out with the Jacket working on it or cleaning it or just listening to the game on the car radio. That car helped make my daddy a big man in the neighborhood, and we all loved that car. The back seat was so big, I remember, I could lay all the way out and sleep when my sister wasn't with us.