Shocking!

 A couple of days ago I received a postcard in the mail announcing my Class of '64 was having our 60th class reunion next October. And then, because I'm a Midwestern type of guy I said to no one in particular, "Sixty years already? You've got to be shitting me."

There were 212 young people who graduated with me. I always remembered the number because that's how many bones in our body. Anyway, I don't have the figures of kids who have passed away but it's not nearly as many as I would have imagined--or so I thought. A buddy in North Carolina, also a grad, told me it might be around fifty. This seems like a lot because I still consider myself to be somewhat of a kid and even fifty seems too huge to be true. Plus, our class members responsible for obit notices are somewhat remiss in their duties and usually we find out about death notices via the grapevine and sometimes years later.

I'm not certain I'll attend the event. I'm not much of a social person and let's face it, Boone, Iowa is a 12 hour drive from Central Ohio. These days I become worn out, mentally and physically, when I have to drive a half hour to church. In addition, I keep in touch with seven or eight of my classmates on a regular basis. As for the others what am I going to say, "So, what have you been up to for the last sixty years?"

And now for the scary part. I was scrolling down through pictures on my cell phone and stopped at one in particular. For one brief second after looking at it I was perplexed as to who it was and then it hit me. I was looking at myself as a senior in high school.

The first thing that came across my mind was, compared to my physical appearance of today, I looked like a featherless baby sparrow. I'm sure, like most kids at 18, we thought we were the cock of the walk but, egads, could I have ever been that young?

Time marches on----------------.