In today’s world of political divisions, mean-spirited lies and angry tirades, people need a distraction from the resounding echo of doom. People need to let loose — dance, sing and have a good time. I am one of those people, so this past weekend, I joined the Central High School Class of ’79 for their class reunion to dance, sing and have a downright good time.
Even though younger generations have nearly forgotten the loyalty to their alma mater through five-year reunions, some (very) mature high school graduates still treasure the five-year tradition and, therefore, honor both school and youthful relationships with a gathering of yearbooks and memories. High school reunions are so much fun because these reunions bring together friend and foe in a lighthearted atmosphere of shared recollections and shocking discoveries — especially when the reunions are years between years, and those attending have ..
. ummm ..
. transformed themselves — in the expanding middle, the thinning of hair and the wrinkling of skin around eyes and mouth (not to mention the drastic whitening of hair). Consequently, name tags are always a good suggestion at reunions just so the foot does not slip into the mouth at the most inopportune moments.
So off I went with camera in hand to the class of ’79. Oh, I know! Since I am years younger than the 1979 graduate Billy French, who just had another birthday to add to his more than six decades, there is no way a young babe like me could actually be .