On May 29, 1981, we were mostly 18-year-olds ready to catch a ride on the coattails of life and change the world. We waltzed across the stage, grabbed a diploma, and ran out to live.
That was a long time ago.
We had a class reunion this past Saturday, April 15. A lot has happened between those two dates.
To be exact, 15,296 days have happened. Over 2,185 weeks, 504 plus months, almost 42 years!
The purchasing agent at work, Lynn, scours sales ads for cheap coke deals, clips coupons and beats out other grocery shoppers for the first selection on canned soft drinks.
I don’t know this, but I suspect she’s probably a Black Friday beast shopper, the kind where two women wrestle in a store aisle over the last available Zappy Dappy Duck for kids.
Continue reading Careful What You OrderSomeone posted our high school class picture from 40 years ago!
Forty. Years. Ago!
That’s how long Moses and the Israelites wandered in the wilderness!
A little over 300 of us, all in purple gowns, grabbed a diploma, walked across the stage, and waltzed into life.
When we graduated 40 years ago — Ronald Reagan was fresh on the job, the space shuttle had just made its maiden voyage, a new disease called AIDS would be announced two weeks after graduation, and two months after that, IBM would introduce something called a “personal computer”.
A lot has changed.
With the unbridled power of technology and social media, it’s been fun to “reconnect” with some I haven’t seen since graduation day.
Continue reading Forty Years AgoIf an animal can have a kind soul, it’s Sadie. She just has a sensitive spirit!
She’s a Porky, half Pomeranian, half Yorky. Even as an adult dog, she’s permanent puppy size. If she’s ever weighed more than 4 pounds, it’s only because her hair was wet!
Her little fox face and big, dark eyes give her the appearance of a harmless, nocturnal creature.
She quickly picks up on feelings, and well knows the regulars to our house. She also knows children love to hold her like a baby doll, so she’s developed an adept ability to hide.
Yet when someone new comes over, she studies them a while before jumping in the chair beside them just to make the acquaintance. After a time or two of visiting though, she’s content to just sit on her blanket and watch from a distance.
Sadie’s 15 years old now, and it may sound strange to say, but when she was 6 years old she was traumatized. My wife, Janet, let Sadie and her sister out early one morning. A minute later, Janet heard an odd, chilling scream, one that sounded like a woman screaming just outside her back door.
Janet ran outside. On the other side of the driveway, a black panther was running away toward the woods with Sadie’s sister in its mouth. Continue reading Sadie
A college student in an electric wheel chair was moving up the sidewalk beside our local university.
She controlled her chair with one hand while tapping a cane back and forth in front of her with the other. She was partially paralyzed, and on top of it, blind! Yet there she was, out in public, on her own, making her way from place to place! Amazing!!
I respect her immensely for doing what seems impossible to me!
She reminds me of a blind friend named Randy I knew in college. Randy was 7 or 8 years older than me and had lost his sight his senior year of high school when he caught a rare virus. Continue reading To See The Way
A few years ago a handful of my high school buddies started getting together every year. They’re great guys and I’m always glad to see them!
But every year we do something they love, I loathe. Golf.
I’m not talking about fun golf, like Putt-Putt, where you navigate obstacles, putt over the astro turf hill, and maybe even win a free game with a hole in one at the Windmill. Nope! Nothing fun like that!
They like golf-golf, where you whack a little white ball (orange for me so I can find it in the woods) and hit it over acres and acres of mowed grass that’s had gallons of ‘Weed Be Gone’ sprayed on it. The only goal is to knock the little ball in a coffee cup in the ground that you can’t see.
Psft! What are they thinking?! Continue reading Golf With a Putter and Six Iron
~Disclaimer: This is the second satirical post and only meant to entertain, maybe even cause a grin, snicker or smile. The first post is here. And yes, there are ALWAYS exceptions. For the record, no words were injured in the writing of this post, so please don’t injure the writer. (Wink, wink.) ~
It’s weird! Men and women have fun differently! Granted, there’s no hard and fast rule, but generally the pendulum swings two ways.
Men feel friendship with other guys by doing stuff together. Here goes:
Two men. They get up at 3:15 AM in cold weather, and meet 3:45 AM sharp at a gas station. They go inside, fill their thermoses with coffee and get in a truck together.
“Good morning”, one says.
“Morning”, says the other. Continue reading Just Two Little Letters — 2
Writer’s note! This is satirical and not intended to insult two particular groups, men or women. OK, I guess this runs the risk to offend everybody, but still, it is written with a wink., smile and laugh. Any similarity to any person, past, present or future is strictly coincidental…
Two letters! That’s all. Man. Wo-man. Same species, I think. But galaxies apart!
I’m in a chain email group with 6 or 7 high school buddies. When the first email starts, a series of rude comments and insults ensue, much to the delight of all!
When we actually see each other, the greetings among our guy friends includes a hand shake or a bear hug, seldom both.
Bear hugs, however, must be in accordance with the Guy Book of Rules. Any violation of these imaginary rules results in loss of “guy points”. Multiple violations may result in permanent loss of the “man card”.
Rule 17 in the book, section 2, bullet 3, subset 4(a), clearly states that IF you hug a guy instead of shaking his hand, it’s very brief. I mean, break a china glass on the floor brief. And never, ever, ever more than a second. In fact, prolonged hugs, according to subset 5(d), can result into a justified fist fight. Continue reading Just Two Little Letters — 1
RabBits 