There Ya Go
Iwas stretching out my back on my walk from the parking lot to Balaton Bay Golf Course Saturday evening, quietly hoping my gout wouldn’t flare up.
Such is the life at a 35th class reunion for a 53-year-old who spends far more time at his computer than he does exercising.
This was the first reunion I had been to since my five-year in 1995. Yes, that is a long time ago. So, I was a bit nervous as I approached the country club. Who would be there? What would they look like? Would I recognize everyone? Would they recognize me?
This is the beauty of skipping previous class reunions. The last time I saw some of these great people was when they were searching for their graduation caps on the stage in our high school gym after tossing them in the air.
The answer to that last question was yes and no. A number of women did recognize me right away. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw one classmate point at me as she was talking to her friends as if to say, “Who the hell is that bald guy.”
That legitimate. The last time she saw me was on that same stage when we were 18. I had hair (and I can prove it). Pretty nice hair, too, if I recall.
“That’s Per,” one of her giggling classmates replied. Then they all came over to say hi and give me a hug. Nice moment.
Reunions are great in moderation. There were a lot of stories shared, a lot of catching up on others, as we wondered where they live, what they do, if they have children. There was plenty of partying going on as well, as a couple of my classmates had already had a few and were certainly feeling no pain.
And there were laughs, many of which were provided by everyone’s favorite classmate, Jason Algyer, the life-of-the-party poster boy. You don’t have to eavesdrop on Jason; all you have to do is be within 20 feet to hear his tales. That’s not an insult.
Jason’s continuous chatter and boisterious laugh were just two examples of the fellowship of the night. That leads to one of my many observations that night: Cell phones were almost nonexistent. I saw one classmate leave for a moment to take a call, but other than that the night was filled with actual face-toface conversation. That’s saying a lot in today’s world when hardly anybody can put their phone down without getting the shakes, and look others in the eye.
Sure, we all had our phones on us, but no one could be seen constantly checking them. Talking actually replaced texting! Refreshing.
Carrie (Sanderson) Mercie organized the event and was smart enough to bring our senior year Teton. That’s where the fun began. Looking back on our 18-yearold selves is a blast (and my proof that I used to use a comb). It was fun to see how people have changed over the decades.
Some of us lost the folic fight years ago. Some of us have gained a little weight. Some of us have sprouted a few gray hairs.
The answer to the third question posed previously was no. There was one person whom I couldn’t put a name to. And it bugged me for about 20 minutes until I broke down and asked Carrie who it is. She told me, and I felt stupid. But that stuff can happen. After all, at least one person didn’t recognize me at first, either. The night also included the obligatory class photo, which can be found in this issue. Tara had the honors of taking this photo, but it wasn’t easy. This was not like lining up a class of Harvard grads. No, think more “Animal House.” That’s not an insult, either, just the truth.
I had a number of conversations that night, a couple of which included us talking about our health. We’re talking 35 years of wear-and-tear here. One classmate talked about her bad hip. Another about his myriad surgeries in a year-and-a-half’s time. Yes, we all got older.
All in all, I enjoyed Saturday night, which is saying a lot for me. I’m not much of a socializer, or partier. Small talk is not one of my strong points. I don’t like big crowds, or noise. I guess all of this makes me a wallflower, but that’s OK. I was amongst old friends, and that made it all worthwhile.
• Tracy lost two good women recently. Marlene Buck was not only a family friend of mine, she was quite the business woman in the ‘80s and 90’s, owning and operating the downtown Four Seasons store after JC Penney closed, and serving on a number of civic groups in town, including the Chamber of Commerce. Buck passed away this past Saturday, and her funeral is at 2 p.m. on Aug. 9 at Tracy Lutheran Church.
Speaking of that church, Amy Munson this week lost her courageous battle with cancer. Amy was the youth leader at the church, and has a heart as big as Tracy, especially when it came to children. She will be missed, not just by the church, but the community as a whole.
