A Reunion In The Desert

Seven young men(ahem!) met in the desert of Arizona for four days of fun and frivolity last week. I happened to be one of those fellas from the Class of 1964. It was a reunion of seven high school friends from central Iowa who traveled separate paths and decided it was time to get together and share life experiences from grade school to present. It's too bad we can't bottle laughs. They occurred frequently.

The man who ramrodded this event lives on a golf course and the participants flew in from around the country. Understand, I need to be very careful in writing this post. I don't want to get a phone call from one of the gents saying, "why you s.o.b, I didn't do this or say that" so I'm going to be milky clean about the event. Some of us are still a little neurotic. "And No! I'm not talking about you"!

I enjoy observing people. I like to listen to and look at them. From fifty-five onward it seems men age quickly. A couple of my buddies looked like they've been, like a large hamhock, or if you prefer, a fine whisky, Aging. I don't know why I observe these traits but five of the guys have "old man ears". This scared me. I immediately jumped up and looked in the bathroom mirror. "Whew! " Not me," I said. An "old man ear" droops and drops. I think the ear cartilage dissolves and the ear lobe falls below the shirt collar; It's not a good thing. It's hideous.

In our group we have a financial planner, a CPA, a surgeon, a railroad train engineer, an oilman, an IBM CFO and yours truly. I gave it very serious consideration when thinking about these men, their life careers, their quality of life and personal happiness.

 Of all the men in our group, he who is the most contented and happest is the railroad employee. And do you know why? Because he was this way from the first time I met him in 1956. He is and I reiterate; happy and contented. He's warm and generous. He can give a person the needle and get away with it. Everybody loves Toby.

 But as I would go around the room, observing and listening, I concluded all of us were the same as we were in fourth or fifth grade and that's why I love each and every one of them.

 It's why I hung out with them fifty years ago and why I wanted to spend individual time with each of them at this event.

 For this period I wanted them to be mine only; to feel their warmth, hear their laugh and embrace the friendship that I remembered from so many years ago.

 I wanted to re-live those special memories we shared; sleepovers, boy scouts, snow ball fights, proms, sports, girls and dumb things we did while trying to figure out how we kept from maiming ourselves for life.

In the final analysis, there really isn't anything different from our class than yours, or yours, or even yours.

 This is what I took away with me on my flight home as I thought of the previous days events. The one thing that stuck with me like glue was we all helped raise wonderful children. Not once did anyone speak of their career unless specifically asked but we did brag on our kids; all very successful, all very Christian and all making us very proud.

 That's our legacy from the Class of '64 and that's the way it should be. We had a wonderful time; no hangovers, in bed by eleven, up by seven. Instead of a trip to the liquor store we spent a lot of time downing Advil and ibuprofin and complaining about aches and pains. That's life and that's my report about the gang from Boone. I couldn't be happier.