Some people start off their day with a cup of coffee, a couple of eggs, and Good Morning America. For me, my day starts when I crank up one of those yellow school buses and head out to pick up a bunch of eager beaver students ready to head off to school. I'm the one in Bus No. 6. If you see me swerve on the road I'm probably trying to avoid either cows, skunks, wild hogs, dogs, goats, or tractors with hay forks. If it's not one thing, it's another.

Except for the bugs that splatter all over your jacket, the rain that seeps into every crevace, the cold that turns your fingers and toes into blocks of ice, the heat that roasts you from the pavement, the wind that tries to blow you off the road, and the dogs that chase you as if you were a squirrel on steroids -- except for all of that, riding a bike is the only way to go!

Yes, I know I'm crazy, but I just had to do it -- I'm learning how to fly. I take lessons whenever I can, get into a small plane with an instructor that is very brave, and so far have walked away from every landing -- with the plane still intact.

There is absolutely no logical reason why a sane person of the human race would want to spend their time learning how to juggle, practicing it with intense concentration, and subjecting the REST of the human race to feats of lunacy that they really would prefer not to see. And that's exactly why I do it.

I was born and raised in the small town of Stinky Creek, Texas. Don't look for it on the map because it's not there. The locals like it that way because it keeps out the riff-raff. A few years ago they asked me to be the editor of their weekly newspaper called The Daily Spittoon. It's a bit of hard work, but I do the best I can. (NOTE: This site is not maintained by Mt. Vernon ISD. MVISD does not control its content or availability.)