As you read this, I’m on my way to New York to celebrate my 47th high school reunion. I know that 47 years seems an odd number to commemorate, but as I detailed in a previous column, our class president was struck by the notion that most everyone in the Class of ’65 was turning 65 this year. He thought this was some kind of weird once-in-a lifetime confluence of time and space. When I explained to Nick that the class of ‘64 had already turned 64 and that the class of 66 will soon turn 66 he seemed a bit surprised. “Gee, I never thought of it that way,” he admitted. This is a man with a master’s in art and a PhD in engineering. So much for those artsy-smartsy degrees.
Before you go to a reunion, there are lots of decisions to make: what to wear; whether to dye your hair; which people deserve a hug versus a handshake; and, of course, how to have a conversation with someone who has just given you a huge embrace, but you have no idea who it is.
Probably the biggest decision is whether to bring your spouse. Mary Ellen will not know anyone one at my reunion, which is really very different from not remembering anyone. And so she agreed to go as long as we established a few ground rules. “First, Dick, it is very important that you stand next to me and act like you are happy I am with you.”
“That sounds very familiar.”
“Yes, same deal as our wedding reception.”
“Well, after two hours of reminiscing about people I don’t know, I am allowed to politely excuse myself and go upstairs to our hotel room and go to sleep.”
“Wow, you remember all the wedding day rules. Maybe you are concerned that my friends will not be as impressed with you as your classmates were with me when I went to your reunion. I heard some ask you what it was like to have a trophy husband.”
“I’m sorry about that hearing problem you have. Actually, they wanted to know what it was like to have a goofy husband.”
I realized that because Mary Ellen would be accompanying me, I had to limit the alcohol consumption just a touch. At the 25-year reunion, I must have had a few too many because when I saw Robin Stern (winner of best-built contest in an unofficial 1965 survey of guys), I told her husband that she alone was the two best memories I had of high school.
Finally, Mary Ellen was concerned whether the attire she chose for the evening was too conservative. “Do you think some of the women will be wearing dresses that are revealing?”
I told her not to worry. Most of the ladies are 65 years old, so there would be more covering up than showing off.
I hope I see Robin Stern again. She has remarried since our 25th reunion. If I work up the nerve, I may use that same joke as last time. Maybe her new husband will think it’s funny.
Shades of gray and blue
I spent last week gallivanting around Tennessee and North Carolina with my young’uns. I am a full-blooded Hoosier, but I spent a good portion of my growing up years down South.
Retiring minds want to know
My wife was confident that her retirement would be an easy transition to make. One day she would be hard at work at the office; then suddenly, she wouldn’t be.
Would you rather...
Having a 5-year-old boy, I am reminded of how much kids like gross stuff. I don’t know what it is about bodily functions, and disgusting activities that appeals to the younger set. Right now, we are in that stage where little brother picks his nose and then chases sister around with “booger hands.” Hearing her scream, you’d think he was lunging at her with an ax, but apparently booger germs are worse.
This is a humor column about a serious medical concern. Everything turned out fine, but this is my one chance to write funny stuff about my own lung biopsy. I hope.
Only a daddy would ...
In my uncle’s office there hangs a framed cross-stitch that reads, “Anybody can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a Daddy.”
But for the grace of sod
I’m a competitive person. For example, I obsess about how my lawn looks in comparison to others on my block. I noticed some bare spots recently, so I addressed the issue with a trip to a local nursery.
New table leads to old tradition
A dinner table surrounded by family and friends has been a symbol of American life since the first Thanksgiving. Sitting down each evening and discussing the day’s events over a hearty pot roast is a tradition that continues in many homes today.
An icy relationship
According to the Associated Press, the biggest issue men have when hooking up with women in Iceland is not that the ladies are frigid. The men can be a little frosty themselves — but temperature is relative. The problem is
Is that all?
“Are you people actually arguing over a doughnut?” my teenage daughter inquired from the backseat.
They’ve got my number
For the longest time, I had a label on my cellphone displaying the mobile number so if I lost the device the person who found it could call me. I realized how incredibly dumb this was when I left it at Ace Hardware one day and when I finally went back and found it, I had 24 messages from people who wanted me to know that it was “right here” in Lawn and Garden by the azaleas.
- Shades of gray and blue