Let's Have A Reunion!
Not for me, thanks; I hated my high school with a disgust that measures a thousand on a scale of 1-100. I know; it’s been fifty years and get over it. Not very likely.
But on my radio program I read announcements of reunions from about 1970 backwards to the last survivor. A very few offer rides for classmates who can’t get there by themselves; they tend to be in the late 1930’s. Some from the ‘40s, more from the ‘50s, many from the ‘60s.
“You haven’t changed a bit!”
“I looked this bad when I was a teenager?”
“Remember the time when…”
“No, I don’t and neither do you.”
“That Jill Martin sure was uggers.”
“She matured, got beautiful and I married her.”
“Sister Mary Joseph was a hottie.”
“She was only 18; left the convent and posed for Playboy.”
“Seen Fr. Jack lately?”
“Married Sister Mary, runs ‘Girls Gone Wild.’”
But on my radio program I read announcements of reunions from about 1970 backwards to the last survivor. A very few offer rides for classmates who can’t get there by themselves; they tend to be in the late 1930’s. Some from the ‘40s, more from the ‘50s, many from the ‘60s.
“You haven’t changed a bit!”
“I looked this bad when I was a teenager?”
“Remember the time when…”
“No, I don’t and neither do you.”
“That Jill Martin sure was uggers.”
“She matured, got beautiful and I married her.”
“Sister Mary Joseph was a hottie.”
“She was only 18; left the convent and posed for Playboy.”
“Seen Fr. Jack lately?”
“Married Sister Mary, runs ‘Girls Gone Wild.’”
posted by Tom Carten at 1:03 PM
1 Comments:
Only good for digging up bones, and most of these bones we would prefer that they remain where they are.
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