Sunday, October 10, 2021

My Fiftieth High School Reunion

This weekend was my high school reunion. My 50th high school reunion! The reunion of Upper Merion's class of 1971.  The tenth time that a dedicated committee has brought us together.  Amazing people. 

This year brought an additional challenge, the Covid virus.  A number of my closest friends did not attend.  After all, we're 68. We are old. That virus wants to kill us.  We had to fill out a contact sheet in case anyone came down with the virus.  Chances are good.  Few people wore masks. (My Ruth Bader Ginsberg mask didn't match my ritzy, glitzy blouse.) Odds are good there were a number of unvaccinated people.  And, because we're old we had to lean in close to squint and read name tags or stick our ears up to someone's mouth to hear them speak. We hugged; we hugged a lot. Hopefully, our reunion won't be remembered as the  Class of 1971 Super Spreader Event.

Part I of the reunion happened on Friday when we toured the old high school.  It will be torn down as a new school is being built, so I truly appreciated Huck L. and Sherri B. taking us down memory lane.  Well, memory lane for some people. Nothing looked familiar to me.  Glen T. found his locker and assured me that mine had to be somewhere near his because homerooms were alphabetized in the good old days.  Nope. Nothing. Until we saw the staircase. Oh, I remembered that staircase and all the times I had to run from the gym, up those stairs to my locker, and then down those stairs to catch the bus....or watch it drive away. Good times. It was interesting to see the pool again as so few schools have pools anymore. That sure brought back memories...the horror of wearing regulation bathing suits provided by the school.  And if you were a fat girl, the horror of walking by the boys to get to your bench.  Another trauma for me was being blind as a bat, unable to see a thing without my glasses, and getting yelled at by Mrs. Harlan because I couldn't see her and I had no idea what was going on. In the old days, teachers didn't have to accommodate disabilities. You were on your own.

A Happy Hour followed at a popular local restaurant called Peppers.  A few beers and everybody was friends again.  I talked to Kathy R. and it was delightful. She, too, is a retired teacher.  And, I haven't seen her in 50 years!!!  How many people have you not seen in 50 years that you can jump right into a conversation with? The retired teacher part didn't hurt; we survivors of the educational trenches share a universal bond. I walked up and introduced myself to people rather than play a guessing game.  I let them pretend they remembered me and told them it was great to see them again. When I left, the party was still going strong. The Class of 1971 showed those young whipper-snappers at the bar, who were wide-eyed shocked at the idea of a fiftieth reunion, that old people rock!

The big event started the next day at a senior appropriate time ,6:00pm, and was held at a fancy hotel with a parking lot perilously far from the front door.  That's when I noticed that my dress shoes, which I've probably had for twenty years, were on their last legs. I kept slipping out of them and praying they wouldn't  disintegrate before I walked in the front door. (I tried on four different outfits before I settled on one, but I never thought to check the shoes. Let this be a reminder to you, dear reader, if you want to be comfortable at a big event, check your shoes.) The hard working committee made name tags with our high school pictures on them.  Of course, the print was big so I could read them without getting too close. Everybody was so nice. Everybody pretended they remembered everybody else. Everybody was joyful. It was such an "up" evening!

I enjoyed catching up with people. My good friend, Laurie R. was my dinner date. The food was good and so was the conversation at our table. Laurie sat to my left, my goods friends Janet and Glen T. to my right, and the hunkiest boy in the senior class, Walt W., sat across from me with his adorable wife who has also come to all the reunions.  After dinner, I wandered the area trying to catch up with long time friends.  I have to give a shout out to Nancy N.  She is still working full time as a nurse in Florida. Last year, she worked the Covid unit. Nancy, you are a hero! And there was Chris C., a boy who gave me a carnation in seventh grade, and just made the day of a shy and not too attractive young girl. I never forgot him or his sweet gift. He forgot it, of course, but I think I made him happy to let him know he was remembered so fondly all of these years. Fifty years folks, fifty - count 'em.  Patty B. (who has the most whimsical picture in our yearbook as she looks off into the distance thinking what a PITA picture day was) was there with her brother. I was immediately transported to the old days when I used to bring my brother, Glenn, to the reunions. So many of his friends were at the reunion and they told me stories of why and how much they loved him.  One classmate, who has already told me bits and pieces about their trip out west, wanted to tell me stories about my brother and the women he met on the trip.  I still don't want to know that!  I only had to tell a couple people that Glenn had died, for which I was thankful. And I was thankful, too, for the good thoughts shared with me. I always joked that Glenn had more friends in the Class of 1971 than I did. 

Which brings me to the classmates who were not there and who will never be back again.  I remember the first few years when a table held red roses (donated by the father of one of our classmates killed in a car accident) and a 5x7 picture frame with the names of those who were gone.  This year there were two sheets of poster paper with names and pictures of classmates who have passed away.  I was in for some big shocks as many people I remembered fondly were gone. People I had hoped to see, gone.  I left the table and then returned three times to try to gradually absorb all the names. That's when the whole concept of fifty years truly hit home.

Yes, the pretty and popular girls were there. No, they didn't get fat and ugly, they are still pretty.  And they are nice. Easy to talk to. Happy to be there.  I have to say that most of them were easily recognizable. I told Janice R. she still looked like a kid, and I meant it!  Bonnie D. is still just as cute as can be. I don't think Kitty H. will ever age. But the person who surprised me most was one of the quiet beautiful prom queens. I remember her as a petite blonde long-haired prom queen who wasn't much of a smiley person, and didn't have the time of day for me. She's seems tall now (why did I remember her as so small?) and outgoing, with a big smile, and she remembered me and was happy to greet me. Repeatedly. Because  I kept forgetting who she was since she looked so different. Ha ha ha. We laughed. 

There was dancing that night. The dancing girls were on the floor. I used to dance all the time because Marianne Y. would pull me onto the dance floor.  But, she was on the poster board, and not there to drag me out.  So, I watched the fun girls dance.  And I fastened my eyes on one guy. My secret crush, ah, maybe not too secret. The kind-hearted guy who I think has aged well  and is still adorable.  And I watched him dance with the dancing girls as I sat in my chair  and wished he'd pull me onto the dance floor.

My fiftieth reunion.  So much has changed. Some things remain the same. Looking forward to fifty-five! Classmates, if you're not on the poster board, be there. You'll be surprised at the fun you have.

Thursday, October 7, 2021

My Thoughts on Texas and Abortion




 I watch the news. One thing that has appalled me is the glee with which the Texan republican lawmakers passed their recent abortion bill/abomination.

There is no denying that this law is meant as punishment for women who have had sex. If not, why is no thought given to the other half of the equation? No reparations. No responsibility. No jail time for them. No "punishment." No acknowledgement of the male except in a proprietary position - the rapist who can claim visitation rites, the neighborhood guy who gets a kick out of seeing how many babies he can father and who thinks a box of diapers is support, and so on.

These same male lawmakers who believe it is their "Christian" duty to force women to do with their bodies what they (men) believe is right, are the same men fighting against wearing a mask because it's their body and their decision. Huh? Why does that battle cry not apply to women and their bodies? How can anyone not recognize the hypocrisy of these so-called men? Why are all women in 2021 not standing up and fighting this insult to their autonomy?

You know what really happens when laws like these challenge Roe vs Wade? Women don't stop having sex. Or getting raped. Or getting sexually abused by members of their own families. Women seek out illegal abortions. Frequently they die from those backstreet abortions, and it's a very painful death. However, make no mistake about it, the need for abortion will not be legislated into oblivion. I know women who had abortions and now they stand on the side of anti-abortionists because they've "learned better." Dear women, how do you forget your panic? your need? How can you deny this option to other women? What have you actually learned?

Please, don't cry for those "poor babies." Those babies are safely with Jesus. Yes, Christians who are so worried about the babies: their. souls. are. with. Jesus.

The real poor babies are the unwanted ones, the ones born into poverty, the trafficked children, the abused children, and the hungry children...hungry because lawmakers believe cutting their benefits will force their parents to work. Be truthful - do any of you who are so appalled about abortion do anything to help the children in poverty? to care for the abandoned and unloved? These poor children are not with Jesus; they are in hell.

I hope in 2021 our lawmakers come to their senses. I hope in 2021 women realize they deserve to make their own decisions about their bodies. I hope for a miracle.