About a month ago, one of my high school classmates contacted me regarding our high school class's upcoming 50th reunion scheduled for later this summer. I would suspect that for those of you who have also lived long enough to experience this, it is pretty hard to believe that we would qualify for a 50th anything, let alone a high school graduation. That means our late 60s are all over us like an early morning fog -- hopefully not anything serious enough to be really a hazard, but more of a nuisance that keeps you from your early tee time .
My wife, who is scheduled for her 50th this summer, is also facing the prospect of relying very heavily on those little sticky name tags to keep us from being embarrassed at how we could possibly forget the names of so many of our friends from the past -- friends with whom we shared so many monumentally earth-shaking secrets, sealed with a pinky swear.
So I know that's gonna happen. Doesn't mean I have to like it, but it's gonna happen. Sometimes I can't even remember the names of people I met just yesterday. And if the truth be known, the guy who invented those little sticky name tags was probably facing his 50th high school reunion when he came up with this great idea.
So, setting that inevitable embarrassment aside for now, there are a couple of other things I thought about, things that could also be interesting. I used to play athletics back in school. Even though I received several varsity letters back then, I was not really very good at any of them.
I played football, starting out as an offensive guard. But, at 5"10"/145#, this didn't look very promising. During my sophomore year, I discovered I could catch the ball reasonably well if it was thrown somewhere in the vicinity of my hands. So I was moved to the end of the line (don't know if that was the coach's way of telling me that I was going from the center of the action to the end of the line, which was only one step from the bench). And while I was there, I became a defensive end too. The defensive position wasn't too bad -- just hold my position and don't let anyone around me. Didn't have to run too far and I could get in the way of a running back until the linebackers would get there to bail me out. Fulfilling my duties as a receiver turned out to be more of a challenge. I was not fast, and didn't know how to get into the open very well. When I would run a pattern, if the wind was blowing really hard, I spent a lot of time running in one spot (remember -- 5'10"/145#). But I did have some good moments and our team was really short on numbers and everyone else was pretty much the same size as me (except the two big tackles we had) so I got to play quite a bit.
I also played baseball and golf. Well, sorta, because at our high school, we only had 5 guys who knew anything about golf, and all of them also played baseball. Back in those days, baseball and golf were both spring sports, so it was worked out that these five guys would play baseball on Tuesday and Thursday and Saturday, and play golf on Monday, Wednesday, and maybe on Friday. Not a lot of time for any practices once the seasons started, so our golf swings really looked like batting practice, and the scores were usually around bogey levels.
But none of this is in any way important now, except that we were on a team, with our classmates, having fun, and developing relationships that are still alive today. I hate to admit that I don't see many or any of them except for the reunions. Some have died. And I don't think any of us would still come in at our old playing weight.
Having spent 30 years of my life as an educator, I am certainly glad that our old high school teachers won't be allowed out of the "home" to come see what a collection we turned out to be. I, for one, certainly wouldn't want to be the cause of any heart failures once they learned how I (or others, too) turned out. Unless they had a lot more insight into us than I suspect, I am sure they never would have guessed our outcomes. I would hope, if they were to come for the evening, they would be gracious enough to give us credit for slugging it out over the years, fighting the good fight, Each in our own way, each with our own demons, and with a lot of help from others, we made something of ourselves. In some small measure, each might be a credible reflection on their efforts. One thing I learned over the years is not to be too hard on oneself. There are plenty of people in line waiting to do that for you.
I have one small suggestion that I might bring up to our "committee" when we get together this summer -- Let's have our 60th reunion next year. I know Sam Hall would be saying right now that that boy didn't learn his counting in my class, but here's the logic. We have lost a few along the way getting to this 50th reunion. The next big one would be 10 years from now and who knows how many we would lose by then. So -- they're our reunions, we can call them anything we want. We can call the one two years from now the 70th if we want. Might be kinda nice to say I made it to my 70th high school reunion.
Oh yeah, one other thing that reunions are known for -- finding out if others in the class were successful in life. I think I will carry a little card with me to the reunion, one that outlines all of the successes one can be proud of in life (other than a good marriage, good children and grandchildren and good health). We'll measure from here:
SUCCESS:...at age 4, SUCCESS is
not peeing your pants.
...at age 12, SUCCESS is
having friends.
...at age 16, SUCCESS is
having a driver's license.
...at age 35, SUCCESS is
having money.
...at age 50, SUCCESS is
having money....at age 70, SUCCESS is
having a driver's license.
...at age 75, SUCCESS is
having friends....at age 80, SUCCESS is
not peeing your pants.
Should be a fun time. I'm actually looking forward to it. And when the evening is over, I hope my classmates read the backside of the card...
May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields and,
Until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
Hooah
