Drivel Over Coffee #274 8/18/2015

“As we go on, we remember all the times we spent together and as our lives change come whatever, we will still be friends forever.”

Hello everyone. Top of the morning to you. Hope the past week has been kind to you.

Went to my class reunion over the weekend. It was our 51st year, class of 1964. The year of God’s children. Some of my classmates changed so much that they didn’t even recognize me. It was an average turn out I guess – about 20-25 percent. It was a very great time. I sincerely loved talking to you all. Old friendships are the best ones. I think of each of my classmates as friends even if I haven’t seen them for a million years. I left wondering just how you guys all stayed so young. I, obviously, was sick the day they covered longevity in school. Now I admit, my memory’s not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my memory’s not as sharp as it used to be.

On our way home from the reunion, my current wife and I discussed our classmates, memories, and getting old. Out of the blue, she says, “I know how to prevent sagging? Just eat till the wrinkles fill out.” Who knew? I added that I personally find it scary when you start making the same noises as your coffee maker. She agreed. We both agreed that these days about half the stuff in our shopping cart says, ‘For fast relief.’

FYI, I don’t want to brag or make anyone jealous or anything, but I can still fit into the socks I wore in high school.

What happened to the other classmates? Three have passed away, the rest I guess were too lazy, too busy, poor, or just didn’t care to see the people they spent 1/3 of their lives. I for one would have liked to see the rest of them. I’m just funny that way I guess. Hard to turn your back on old friendships. It is sad for me once I realize that this was probably my last opportunity to have seen everyone. Such a shame more couldn’t have found the time or will to attend.

Had any of the lackey’s needed a reason for attending our reunion, read on:

1. Because you still can!
2. Because you’re never too cool for your high school friends.
3. Your family is tired of hearing your stories and you want to relive them with someone who actually cares!
4. Ummm….who else is gonna fill in the blanks to your slipping memory?
5. You’ll laugh, cry and reminisce with some of your oldest friends.

I sat with an old friend from another class and visited a bit. After a while, I very quietly confided to her that I was having an affair. She turned to me and asked, ‘Are you having it catered’? And that, my friend, is the definition of “OLD”.

Have you ever been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking, surely I can’t look that old? Well, read this next story….. You’ll love this one.

My name is Sue (the current wife of the author). I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I noticed his DDS Diploma on the wall, which bore his full name. Suddenly, I remembered a tall, handsome, dark haired boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 51 odd years ago. Could he be the same guy that I had a secret crush on, way back then? Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been my classmate. After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended Jefferson High School. “Yes, yes, I did. I’m a J-Hawk,” he gleamed with pride. “When did you graduate?” I asked. He answered, “In 1964. Why do you ask?” “You were in my class!” I exclaimed. He looked at me closely. Then, that ugly, old, bald, wrinkled faced, fat-a**ed, gray-haired, decrepit son-of-a-b***h asked, “What did you teach???”

I had a report from a concerned citizen regarding abuse by the solid waste agency. The trash was placed at the curb per the Garbage Gestapo Handbook prior to 7:00 am as is the requirement. She arrived home from a hard day at work to find her Garby sitting in the middle of the street. She had placed a bucket with glassware at the curb also. It had remained at the curb untouched. Usually not one to complain, she called the agency and talked to a Sgt. Schultz type who eventually agreed to have someone come out and rectify the situation. Go figure.

The Hotties of Hysteria Lane cornered me a couple of days ago. Seems as though they are a bit put out that they have not had a mention in my blog for quite some time. My suggestion of donning their bikinis, pose in the street for a photo. Most of them declined. It seems the major concern for them are milkweeds and the propagation of caterpillars/monarch butterflies. Yawn! But hey, it has kept them out of the bars for the most part.

Everyone seems to be in such a hurry to scream ‘prejudice’ these days……………. I was in Ace Hardware last Thursday. I overheard a customer ask a clerk, “In what aisle can I find the Polish sausage?” The clerk asks, “Are you Polish?” This guy, clearly offended, says, “Yes I am. But let me ask you something. If I had asked for Italian sausage, would you ask me if I was Italian? Or if I had asked for German Bratwurst, would you ask me if I was German? Or if I asked for a kosher hot dog would you ask me if I was Jewish? Or if I had asked for a Taco, would you ask if I was Mexican? Or if I asked for some Irish whiskey, would you ask if I was Irish?” The clerk replied, “No, I probably wouldn’t.” The guy says, “Well then, because I asked for Polish sausage, why did you ask me if I’m Polish?” The clerk replied, “Because you’re in Ace Hardware.

After the Ace Hardware visit, I went into St. Andrews pro shop to get a bucket of balls. I start out to the driving range when I remembered that I needed a ball marker as I had lost my other one. I asked the golf pro if they sell ball markers. The golf pro says they do, and they are $1.00. I gave the pro a dollar. The golf pro opens the register, puts the dollar in, and hands me a dime to use as the marker. This economic model is also used by the U S government.

Last week we lost a friend and member of our men’s breakfast group. He was a great guy. Loved my grand dog Kinnick and would always tell me about the virtues of soft ice cream. The “candy man” was a welcoming icon in our church. He always had a presence in the back pew every Sunday. He dispensed the candy treats to the kids after the kid’s sermon – every Sunday. I wish all the best to his wife and family.

“It’s not that I can and others can’t, it’s I did and others didn’t.” If I can make at least one person smile, or laugh till they leak, then my day was not wasted. Now, until we meet again. -TA!