It's 6 a.m., dark and damp. My safety vest repels a gentle mist that slowly soaks my head and jeans -- making it somewhat difficult to find school bus No. 330, parked by the east fence, even with my flashlight.
I've been up since 4:35, in order to get from my home in Plymouth to First Student's bus barn and on to my first stop near downtown Excelsior -- at 6:45.
For about the 100th time, it's occurred to me that I've found a strange way of easing into retirement -- wheeling a 29,000-pound school bus around the streets of Minnetonka, shepherding elementary and middle-school kids to and from school.
But having spent the past 10 years or so before retirement as a family counselor in a clinic north of the Twin Cities, I figured that driving a school bus would give me a chance to reconnect with young people, and get me out of the house more often.
(My wife's bridge group was already looking for a new place to meet -- "Doesn't he have some place to go?"-- and my health club membership card was wearing thin.)
Anyway, I'm learning a great deal driving a school bus -- at least as much as I picked up in college and graduate school, or while working in business and in counseling, or while raising a family.
I've learned it from my fellow drivers. If the kids are paying attention, they can learn it, too.
The course is Life 101. The curriculum is Self-Awareness and Self-Management. And the school bus drivers are, for a few minutes each morning and evening, teachers.