Speaking of being or feeling old – nothing, BUT NOTHING, will bring home the passing of years more than attending your High School graduating class’s 50^th REUNION!!

It was quite an affair!  Not only was it our 50^th, but it was also FIRST!!  Can you beat that?  Not having seen hardly any of the kids you graduated with for fifty years and then getting together for a couple of nights of “whoop it up”.  Just like the old days, eh?  Not quite!!

The shindig was held in the Hyatt Regency in Bethesda, Maryland (not a plug – but it was rather nice).  My wife and I stayed at the Hotel for the two nights despite the fact that Jean did not feel tiptop (perhaps the understatement of the year).  Her operation, plus a stubborn headache (this time it wasn’t me), made her just a touch grouchy in the beginning.

I think while we were checking in, her sense of humor broke through the clouds.  There, walking in front of us, was an elderly man with a very pronounced limp.  I was shocked to hear my “baby face” remark,” Oh look, I’ll bet He is one of your old classmates – HE WALKS JUST LIKE YOU!  Before I could think of a withering retort, I sorrowfully heard the gentleman ask, “Where is the 50^th reunion of Woodrow Wilson High School cocktail party?”  Right then and there I had an inkling that I probably wouldn’t recognize and or remember a single solitary soul.  I think I mumbled something about going to bed.  My “better half” would have none of that (her grin was ever so slightly devilish).  “You know how I am about names!!”  she nodded and grinned some more.  I will never take her out of a sick bed again.

Just before entering the room where the first night’s festivities were being held, we were both given LARGE name tags.  Mine had a picture of a black-haired dark-complected, rather handsome boy on it.  I started to say that I had the wrong tag when it dawned on me that had been me Lo so many years ago.  Gad, the picture was from our yearbook!  It even had the dumb stuff printed under the picture.  I was NEVER called “SHORTY”!  “Devilish” or “Man-about-town” maybe, but NEVER Shorty”!!

I was never called Shorty …

As I entered the room, I knew why we had “oversized” tags on.  The first person I encountered quickly put on his glasses as I approached, bent his head to peer intently at my tag – almost hitting my chin with the top of his head while he mumbled: “Alan – so good to see you”!  After that, I took pity on people.  If they looked at me with that “should I know you look” I stuck out my hand and announced in a firm voice “I used to be Alan Brylawski”.  Wish the hell they had done the same for me – it was hard getting close enough to those SMALL to see who I was talking too.

Good Lord!  That old woman I was just talking to was one of the old girlfriends!  What has happened to all these people?  My wife reminded me later that I didn’t endear myself to some of my classmates when I complained rather loudly upon entering the room “Why are all these OLD people here?”

AND THEN – in came three guys I could hate for the rest of my life – in fact, I fully intend to!!  Their names won’t mean anything to you but I shall name them out of pure arrogance.  First, there was “Jimmy Schwab” – the ONLY thing that changed about him was his hair was now snow white!  He still stood tall, erect, and handsome.  He didn’t need a name tag!  Everybody knew who he was the instant he came into the room!  Then there was “Stanley Elman”, his forehead was a scouch higher than fifty years, but that was it!!  Not a line on his face.  The worst of all was “David Wise” – NOTHING HAD CHANGED!  Shades of Dorian Gray!  I wonder if he has HIS picture in the attic?  Not only did he look like he just stepped out of our yearbook BUT he ACTED like it!  I had trouble doing the waltz and there he was “jitterbugging”.

Without a question, you can understand that HE is the easiest to hate – right?

All in all, everybody who attended had a good time.  It was great fun trying to see how many you could really remember. I was amazed and rather pleased at my ability.  As I remember it, I only insulted a few by telling them I didn’t have the foggiest notion who they were (even after they told me!)  My wife said that I behaved myself not as good as she wished but better than she hoped.  I guess that was a compliment?

If we have another reunion, I told them I thought we shouldn’t wait another fifty years – When I asked “What the hell is so funny about that?” my wife kicked me in the shins.  I don’t think I will take her to the next one.

May all your reunions be happy ones.

Till next time.