We all have fond memories from childhood... and sometimes, reading through the ol' blog here, I start to wonder if that may not apply to me. Seems to me I've been pretty good at shining up the bad stuff and doing my usual "positive spin" on things.

That said, the past week reminded me of how this whacky dream of ours... the catalyst for this blog... really stems from a happy childhood memory... and, like all "nice guys", it does truly revolve around mom... sorta... well, my father DID play a huge part in it too.

The memory was stirred up when Sandy Carlson of Writing in Faith made a simple request... she asked what ignited my personal love of old double-decker buses?

Now, I should point out that my whole family right now is hoping our dream will come true... because they adopted my dream and my love, so it's not really only my love at this point... As stated, ad nauseum here, my love caught them and they saw the potential and their own dream in it. If you haven't read about this, PLEASE click here and read a post about this...

...but the question was how "I" got started on this kooky path...

Well, it all began in 1976... I was nine-years old... and our first "real" family vacation.

Sure, we had a cottage and whatnot... but this was a big one... and as an aircraft freak even way back then, it meant my FIRST FLIGHT!

...and what a flight it was... on a British Airways Seven-Forty-Seven... in fact, it was SO long ago that the "kid's wings" and freebies they gave me all had a different "logo" on them... not British Airways, but BOAC... for "British Overseas Airways Corporation"... a name they gave up in 1974.

As I've said in previous posts... before I saw any place outside my city or en route to the family cottage, I was winging my way to London!

I was so excited, I actually was rather... um... ill the morning we left... I remember that... but I also remember it was one of the "fastest-bounce-backs" from an illness ever as our chariot with wings awaited!

My father, being an insurance executive, was en route to do business, but this time, the whole fam-damnilly was allowed to tag along...

London was in the midst of a BRUTAL heat-wave... and I will always remember "ice lollies" (Popsicles) and ice-cream cones with a flake in them to cool me off while walking along the Thames... I remember seeing so many things that were so familiar to me, as a Canadian... and yet, it was not Canadian... I was giddy and even then seemed to understand the concept of "one foot in history" when you're there...

Heck, there was even some youthful "paranormality" involved too!

I had an allowance of TWO POUNDS (about $4.00) with which to spend any way I wanted while I was there... and I spent it on something that would become a "ritual" for me... I'll get to that shortly...

One of the BEST memories I had, however, was riding the buses... hopping on the platform of an older bus, running to the top deck, hoping to get the front seat... if we did get "our" seat on the bus... my, what a treat it was.

My mother and sisters and myself... watching the city fly by the windows of our bus... waiting for the (usually) very pleasant conductor to come up to sell us our tickets... the lovely big, clunky change (far larger and more substantial than Canadian coins,)... the rattle of their ticket-machines... and just the feeling of moving through a wonderful place way up high above the street.

For a kid from Toronto... it was magical.

Late at night, returning from our tourist-trips and en route to meet my poor, working father for dinner, I'd watch the city lights and nestle into my mother's side on the bus... often drifting to sleep... or terribly excited that I'd get to see "this place" or "that place" all lit up for the evening.

Day or night, how we (my sibs and I) loved to literally "hop on" and "hop off" the platform... often while the bus was still in some motion... and very often, to my mother's (who always had troubled knees) concern that it was moving "too fast"... but we'd do it anyway... no worse for wear.

Sadly, it was the last such trip all together as my eldest sister left home not too long after returning to Toronto... and my father was sent to London less and less on business with the advent of better telecommunications...

Now, to get back to my allowance on that first visit in the mid-1970's... after all was said and done, what did I buy?

Of course... die-cast metal toy buses.

I still have one of them... the other was sadly lost to over-childhood-playing.

It sits proudly above my desk at home... with all of it's mates... one for each time after that first trip I visited... and a few given to me as precious gifts.

Y'know what... I mentioned how I've been blessed to be back in London several times since that first trip... and how I still buy an old, platform-loading, die-cast toy bus for my collection and memory...

...and what's so wonderful is... it's still magic for me to ride on these old buses.

Now, reading all this, I'm sure you can imagine WHY I really had issues with the removal of the old Routemaster buses from London's streets in favour of the "bendy-buses"... you can see some of my older rants about this... please start with this one... then this one... then end with this one.

Still, I suppose that life must go on... and to be TRUTHFUL, initially when I heard that the old, platform loaders with conductors were being hauled off the streets, I didn't feel TOO strongly... I likened it to finding out that a favourite childhood restaurant was being closed and torn-down to make way for a parking lot... it hurt and it wasn't nice... but what can you do?

Then I saw the picture (above)... and shared my memories with Sue and the kid... and then we got to talking... and dreaming... and thinking... and, eventually, hoping...

...and here we are with this blog.

My Blessing this week is my memories of this trip and yes, how they relate to our current dream!

How a childhood memory caught fire... and enveloped two other people who adopted and modified that memory... and how it all became a dream... and the hope that the dream might still come true.

I do hope, before she's too old, our little one can have a similar experience to my own... and perhaps, ignite a new childhood memory... and a new dream... and perhaps unite a new family one day.

Isn't that what it's all about?

Thinking back to 1976... I'm sure that on those bus rides, NOT ONCE did I ever mournfully ask, Are we there yet?... because in many ways, I never wanted the trip to end.

The standard last note on the old blog... PLEASE SUPPORT THE DREAM!

This blog is here to help promote a dream that an entire family shares... that dream is to rescue an old London Double-Decker bus.

Please, if you have a few minutes, take some time to find out more about this bus and the kooky dream by clicking here.

This bus is VERY special to myself and the whole family, and any help any person can lend us would be most gratefully accepted.

If you or someone you know might be interested, there's our tiny banner site, HelpCoverTheBus.Com and a PayPal donation button (see the upper-right hand side of the blog) and, of course, a Cafe Press shop for T-Shirts and shtuff!
(...and who doesn't need some shtuff!)

Please help us make this dream a reality and save a piece of history!

We thank you for your support!

Please Note: We are also hoping for help from a public relations/marketing standpoint... If you might be able to assist OR know someone who might be willing to, please click here and read this entry...