Well folks, the time is nearing and in just a couple of days I will wend my way to The Radisson Hotel in beautiful downtown Whittier for my 50th High School Reunion. Egads! We’re old.
My friend Paul told me a story about going to a local reunion in the valley for Brown graduates, and when he arrived, he saw people hobbling in, some with walkers, some with canes. He immediately hung a U and drove home. When I asked him why he didn’t go in, he said, “I just didn’t want to be there with all those old people!” But there is something wonderful about all being the same age, right?
Things I fear will happen at the Radisson Hotel on Saturday night:
- I will be the only Democrat.
- They won’t have Hendrick’s gin.
- My friend Jackie won’t show up, and I’ll be uncomfortable because I don’t remember anyone or anything and want to leave.
- I’ll be over dressed.
- I’ll be under dressed.
- I’ll be stressed, have too much to drink and fall into a Radisson potted palm, potted.
- My slip will be showing…oh wait, that can’t happen. We don’t wear them anymore.
- I’ll get cornered by a member of the tea party that is sipping more than tea.
- Mr. Spain will still be there to tell me, “Silence is Golden.”
- My eyesight, ability to speak and deodorant will fail me.
- Someone says, “The years have been kind to you,” which is what happened at the last one twenty or thirty years ago.
- I get complimented on my shoes.
- I meet a Democrat.
- There’s music.
- There’s Hendrick’s.
- Jackie and Joy are there.
- I actually remember some people.
- I like some people.
- Some people like me.
- I spend the night at the Radisson with the cabana boy. haha Just joking.