Reunited and it Feels So ...

I stopped going to school reunions after my high school's 20th. After having my ear bent by a classless guy who has won the NY State lottery, and boasted about he was as smart as I was since he was richer than I without putting in 7 years of higher education and countless hours of honing my professional craft, it hit me that there's a reason I don't keep in touch with many old classmates. Plus, it probably bothered me that the fellow, who I'll call Stu, since that's his name, was right to make me feel like a schmuck.

My 10 year high school reunion was fun. First, I had moved to Miami, and hadn't made it back much to NY (not at all to LI), and I was caught up with my classmates that we were truly, at 28 grown ups, with an actual 10 years under our belts to give us justification for true nostalgia. Plus, the next door neighbor girl, got drunk and literally humped my leg, telling that she had always wanted me and maybe tonight was the night, so that was great for some laughs and my newly married ego...

Anyway, so my law school's 25th reunion was coming up, and I had no plans to go, but my friend Norman convinced me to. I figured, what the hell -- it'll be a few drinks, it's close by, and at the very least will provide some great battle of the sexes schadenfreude. As men age, though they get bald, gray, and fat, if their wallets bulge more than they did as young guys, they're desirable to a growing pool of ladies. Ladies as they age, well, not so much...

I parked over at the law school, at Norman's wise suggestion, as the Homecoming Parade was blocking the streets in front of the Lowe Museum, and strolled through campus. There was a great buzz there, with Homecoming in full swing --the temporary Rathskellar was packed with students and alums, and decorations festooned (love that word) the trees...

I arrived early, as usual, and got in line at the bar. The bartender recognized me from other UM events, and poured me an extra tall Absolut. Mike arrived, and I got him a drink, too. Soon Norman made it in as well.

Out of our class of about 450, the total reunion attendance was about 15. 4 of them were women, and 2 of those, Stacy and Marcia, looked terrific. Marcia has become good Facebook (tm) friends with Wifey, and we talked about getting together with her cool, Uganda born, ethnic Arab husband, who I really liked. When we talked about his native country, and the fact that Wifey was born in Israel, he said the only good thing to happen in his native land was Operation Thunderbolt, when the Israeli commandos rescued hostages at Entebbe Airport. I really want to get to know this fellow better...

Stacy, who I took out on a few dates in college, was there with her new husband, a very handsome rich guy's son. Although I have little memory of this, apparently I wrote Stacy some bad poems in an attempt to woo her, since I was poor and Stacy was, even in 1981, going out with older guys with Porsches who lived on Grove Isle, and she still has them. She talked about this, as she did once before at another party 10 years ago attended by Wifey (still one of Wifey's least favorite evenings), and she did it again!

This led to a text message the next day from Norman, who said he thought he'd avoid the Canes game in favor of staying home to read poems about unrequited love...Among my manifold blessings, having friends with strong senses of humor is near the top of the list.

But back to the reunion...after my SECOND over filled Absolut, Norman, Mike and I headed over to Shula's in South Miami for the most delicious burgers in Florida --3 types of ground beef, with bleu cheese and carmelized onions --ah life was grand.

So it turned out to be a fine evening, after all. I learned nothing, except that the friends I see are terrific.

The reunion football game was yesterday, and I skipped it to host my California sister at the South Miami Art Festival...the Canes squeaked out a win over Duke, 49-14. They were able to do it without my Club Seat cheering.

Days of future passed...