My First Wizard of ODD

I was lucky. I had wonderful parents. They had an agreement that they’d never go to bed mad at one another. Made it rather tough on us kids. Not easy talking to someone who hasn’t slept in fourteen years.

One of the nicest things about growing up in my house was that my grandfather lived with us. My grandfather was a teacher. He drove a bus for the city of Chicago, but he did that for the money. … He was really a teacher. The most vital lesson he ever taught me was the importance, the excitement, the beauty, the challenge of being ODD.

If it was your second time on the bus, my grandfather knew your name, the name of your husband or wife, your children, where you worked, and where you lived. He knew you. People would actually pass up other buses to get on his bus, because it was like a moving party. I’ve had people come up to me thirty years later and say, “I remember your grandfather. I used to ride on his bus. He was the highlight of my day.”

Wow. The highlight of my day. What a wonderful way to be remembered, and here’s a man with whom they’d spent only a few moments. How is it that he made such an impact on people? Because he was ODD. He believed that life is a gift, and, as a gift, it’s meant to be enjoyed and not just endured.