17/09: A.H.S. 25 Years Later
Saturday, we celebrated Arlington High School’s graduating class of ’82 25th year reunion. (Yes, I’m that old. And so are all my classmates.)
There was a big difference between our 20th and our 25th. At our 20-year, I thought we all were holding up pretty well. You know, still looking…hotter than lukewarm. Not any more. We all looked like mid-forty-year-old parents. Which shouldn’t be a surprise because that’s exactly what we are. Nevertheless, the realization was still a shock to my system.
When we walked into Gilligan’s, my wife said, “This is the wrong room, these are all old people in here.” In spite of her misstatement about the room, she was absolutely correct otherwise. Sad but true.
Okay, enough about youth being wasted on the young. There were plenty of women there who I—like former President Carter—“lusted after in my heart.” You know exactly who you are, you foul MILF temptresses. And keep it up. (BTW-that includes my wife.)
Also seeing everyone again, reliving glory days and telling other lies made my soul soar like a hawk. Some of these are people I’ve known since I was six years old. In this world of constant change—that’s seemingly always for the worse—there’s a beautiful security in feeling the warmth of the same hearts of those who’ve known you best, worst and longest. Even if only for an hour or two every five or ten years.
So here’s to the class of ’82. May gravity, UV rays and cholesterol cease to take their collective toll. Colts, colts, go, go, go!
(P.S. Thanks, Robin, for the inspiration to keep blogging. Flattery gets you everywhere. Your kind words should motivate me to create at least a few more entries.)
There was a big difference between our 20th and our 25th. At our 20-year, I thought we all were holding up pretty well. You know, still looking…hotter than lukewarm. Not any more. We all looked like mid-forty-year-old parents. Which shouldn’t be a surprise because that’s exactly what we are. Nevertheless, the realization was still a shock to my system.
When we walked into Gilligan’s, my wife said, “This is the wrong room, these are all old people in here.” In spite of her misstatement about the room, she was absolutely correct otherwise. Sad but true.
Okay, enough about youth being wasted on the young. There were plenty of women there who I—like former President Carter—“lusted after in my heart.” You know exactly who you are, you foul MILF temptresses. And keep it up. (BTW-that includes my wife.)
Also seeing everyone again, reliving glory days and telling other lies made my soul soar like a hawk. Some of these are people I’ve known since I was six years old. In this world of constant change—that’s seemingly always for the worse—there’s a beautiful security in feeling the warmth of the same hearts of those who’ve known you best, worst and longest. Even if only for an hour or two every five or ten years.
So here’s to the class of ’82. May gravity, UV rays and cholesterol cease to take their collective toll. Colts, colts, go, go, go!
(P.S. Thanks, Robin, for the inspiration to keep blogging. Flattery gets you everywhere. Your kind words should motivate me to create at least a few more entries.)
Dave wrote:
Chris Roberts told me you were down in Austin now. My wife and I just moved down in August. Shoot me an email.
I'm gonna try to do this so the spiders can't see it...
c o n c r e t e e y e [[AT]] gmail . com
-Dave Hezlep