Reunited and it feels so good.
Reunited 'cause we understood.
There's one perfect fit
And, sugar, this one is it.
We both are so excited
'Cause we're reunited, hey, hey.
- from Reunited by Peaches and Herb* (the Billboard #1 song on 22 May 1979)
And finally, I want to take a moment to thank eleven very special people:
The Reunion Committee
> Blythe Barfield Waugh
> Kelly Bohannan Dudley
> Stan Bugh
> Lisa Gregston Borger
> Kristi Herd Tackett
> Cindy Lay Ketchum
> Stacy Shields Gill
> Jeff Smith
> Jeanne Staab Jones
> Bo Summers
and the Reunion Webmaster, Kevin Wood.
Basically, these eleven souls did a stellar job of organizing and executing the 'classmate hunt' and the Reunion Weekend itself. My sister-in-law is a professional event planner and I don't think she could have done any more than you eleven did. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for a fantastic weekend! God Bless you all!
Best regards...
* Reunited © Polydor Records 1978
© James P. Rice 2009
07 August 2009
30 Years and Counting - Epilogue
I wonder what tomorrow has in mind for me
Or am I even in it's mind at all.
Perhaps I'll get a chance to look ahead and see
Soon as I find myself a crystal ball.
Soon as I find myself a crystal ball.
- from Crystal Ball by Styx*
(Okay...I can almost hear some of you out there cheering, now that I've reached the end...)
The bottom line of these last ten posts with which I wish to leave you is this: if you have a reunion of your high school graduating class coming up, duct tape your own Captain Paranoia to a chair and go. The experience was exhilarating, refreshing, and more than a little liberating. In short, it was a blessing.
If this shadow has offended,
Think but this, and all is mended;
That you have but slumber'd here
While these words did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend;
If you pardon, I shall mend.
Whilst a joyous time by me was had,
And all I saw did make me glad,
I must admit to faces missed
In this parting of Time's mist.
Jeff and Jeff and Jackie, too,
Marvelyn, I did miss you.
Patty, Cindy, Mike, and John,
I pray success has carried on.
Clark and Susan and Eileen;
Faces wished for but not seen.
Fin'ly, now, a gentle prayer
For friends of ours no longer here:
May God's sweet mercy on your soul
Waft you to your final goal.
To all the rest, I bid adieu,
With hopes to once again see you
Someday, in a future time,
When the Class of '79,
Can once again in Tulsa meet.
Until then, may your lives be sweet.
(with a tip of the hat to The Bard)
Best regards...
* Crystal Ball © A&M Records, Inc. 1976, 1988
© James P. Rice 2009
Or am I even in it's mind at all.
Perhaps I'll get a chance to look ahead and see
Soon as I find myself a crystal ball.
Soon as I find myself a crystal ball.
- from Crystal Ball by Styx*
(Okay...I can almost hear some of you out there cheering, now that I've reached the end...)
The bottom line of these last ten posts with which I wish to leave you is this: if you have a reunion of your high school graduating class coming up, duct tape your own Captain Paranoia to a chair and go. The experience was exhilarating, refreshing, and more than a little liberating. In short, it was a blessing.
If this shadow has offended,
Think but this, and all is mended;
That you have but slumber'd here
While these words did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend;
If you pardon, I shall mend.
Whilst a joyous time by me was had,
And all I saw did make me glad,
I must admit to faces missed
In this parting of Time's mist.
Jeff and Jeff and Jackie, too,
Marvelyn, I did miss you.
Patty, Cindy, Mike, and John,
I pray success has carried on.
Clark and Susan and Eileen;
Faces wished for but not seen.
Fin'ly, now, a gentle prayer
For friends of ours no longer here:
May God's sweet mercy on your soul
Waft you to your final goal.
To all the rest, I bid adieu,
With hopes to once again see you
Someday, in a future time,
When the Class of '79,
Can once again in Tulsa meet.
Until then, may your lives be sweet.
(with a tip of the hat to The Bard)
Best regards...
* Crystal Ball © A&M Records, Inc. 1976, 1988
© James P. Rice 2009
06 August 2009
A Decade (posts, not years) of 30 Years and Counting: The Show Must Go On!
The Show must go on!
The Show must go on!
Inside my heart is breaking,
My makeup may be flaking,
But my smile, still, stays on!
- from The Show Must Go On! by Queen*
When last we met, I droned on for two segments about an epiphany I'd had regarding my friends from high school. What was so interesting about that blinding flash of clarity was that, as we chatted and reminisced, a number of my friends said much the same...that they just never really felt any sort of peer pressure from their classmates. It was a wonderfully warm feeling to have my own observation confirmed.
Another interesting revelation was how some of my classmates viewed themselves during high school. One of the best examples of this is Diane.
I was in awe of Diane in high school. In my eyes (and those of more than a few of my acquaintances), she was beautiful, elegant, sophisticated, intelligent, talented, worldly, kind, eloquent, fun, inspiring...did I mention beautiful? She had traveled the world...had experienced places I dreamt of...lived in cultures outside of our own. When she was on the stage, it was like watching one of the stars of the golden age of theater. In my mind, she was the Katherine Hepburn of our generation. Imagine my surprise when, during our reunion lunch, she described herself in high school as "nerdy, clumsy, and goofy."
This was the young lady for whom I had spent most of a week working up the courage to ask her to accompany me to an awards banquet our Junior year. I was totally self-conscious the night of that banquet...afraid I would embarrass myself in front of her, while secretly basking in the pride of having such a special person as my date. Her revelation of her self-image from back then served to make that night that much more special. The fact that she felt like that on the inside while projecting the outer image I and others saw served to justify my personal belief in how special Diane is. After all, she was one of the people who inspired me to continue striving to graduate with the Class of '79.
Our lunch that Sunday, as was the entire weekend, was filled with observations and revelations such as these. I deeply believe that they have helped strengthen old friendships and create new ones amongst the Class of '79.
After several hours, we all finally admitted that we had to go our separate ways. We took a few group photos, along with a portrait of Frida Kahlo the restaurant had on display (unbeknownst to me, it was the day before the 55th anniversary of her death), and began to head out. Even then it was tough to let go...after more hugs and promises to keep in touch, several of us gathered on the sidewalk outside of El Guapo's and chatted for another half hour. Finally, we reluctantly parted and headed to our various modes of transportation. After all, the show that is our current lives must go on.
Next time, a look into the Crystal Ball. Until then, best regards...
* The Show Must Go On! © Queen Productions Ltd. 1991
© James P. Rice 2009
The Show must go on!
Inside my heart is breaking,
My makeup may be flaking,
But my smile, still, stays on!
- from The Show Must Go On! by Queen*
When last we met, I droned on for two segments about an epiphany I'd had regarding my friends from high school. What was so interesting about that blinding flash of clarity was that, as we chatted and reminisced, a number of my friends said much the same...that they just never really felt any sort of peer pressure from their classmates. It was a wonderfully warm feeling to have my own observation confirmed.
Another interesting revelation was how some of my classmates viewed themselves during high school. One of the best examples of this is Diane.
I was in awe of Diane in high school. In my eyes (and those of more than a few of my acquaintances), she was beautiful, elegant, sophisticated, intelligent, talented, worldly, kind, eloquent, fun, inspiring...did I mention beautiful? She had traveled the world...had experienced places I dreamt of...lived in cultures outside of our own. When she was on the stage, it was like watching one of the stars of the golden age of theater. In my mind, she was the Katherine Hepburn of our generation. Imagine my surprise when, during our reunion lunch, she described herself in high school as "nerdy, clumsy, and goofy."
This was the young lady for whom I had spent most of a week working up the courage to ask her to accompany me to an awards banquet our Junior year. I was totally self-conscious the night of that banquet...afraid I would embarrass myself in front of her, while secretly basking in the pride of having such a special person as my date. Her revelation of her self-image from back then served to make that night that much more special. The fact that she felt like that on the inside while projecting the outer image I and others saw served to justify my personal belief in how special Diane is. After all, she was one of the people who inspired me to continue striving to graduate with the Class of '79.
Our lunch that Sunday, as was the entire weekend, was filled with observations and revelations such as these. I deeply believe that they have helped strengthen old friendships and create new ones amongst the Class of '79.
After several hours, we all finally admitted that we had to go our separate ways. We took a few group photos, along with a portrait of Frida Kahlo the restaurant had on display (unbeknownst to me, it was the day before the 55th anniversary of her death), and began to head out. Even then it was tough to let go...after more hugs and promises to keep in touch, several of us gathered on the sidewalk outside of El Guapo's and chatted for another half hour. Finally, we reluctantly parted and headed to our various modes of transportation. After all, the show that is our current lives must go on.
Next time, a look into the Crystal Ball. Until then, best regards...
* The Show Must Go On! © Queen Productions Ltd. 1991
© James P. Rice 2009
05 August 2009
30 Years and Counting's Ninth -or- Thank You for Being a Friend!
Thank you for being a friend.
Traveled down the road and back again,
Your heart is true you're a pal and a confidant.
I'm not ashamed to say,
I hope it always will stay this way.
My hat is off, won't you stand up and take a bow.
- from Andrew Gold's Thank You for Being a Friend!*
As I noted last time, I now know that I suffered from undiagnosed clinical depression my Senior year in high school. The reason I mentioned everything that led to my depression was so you would understand why I had all but given up on successfully completing high school. I couldn't see how to get out of the pit I was in and was on the verge of allowing the depression to paralyze me. That's where the people I've been talking about came in. Between the friends I was having lunch with at El Guapo's on Sunday the 12th, other friends I've mentioned throughout this series, and two special teachers, I (barely) managed to graduate.
I don't think any of my friends ever knew how close it had been or how important they had been to me. It wasn't because they tutored me or (God Forbid) helped me cheat, it was because of two things: 1) they provided me with living examples of what I should be doing; and 2) they never once applied Peer Pressure to me for any reason. If I didn't have two teen aged daughters of my own that had allowed me to view Peer Pressure from a father's point of view, I don't think I would have ever realized how blessed I was in high school.
During my years at Memorial, I knew people who used recreational drugs, who were a bit wild, who smoked, who skipped school, who had secret lives, who...well, you get the idea. But not a single one of those people ever put any sort of pressure on me to do what they were doing. I was offered the opportunity to join in if I wanted to, but it was no big deal if I didn't. I was blessed to be surrounded by the sweetest, kindest, funnest, most truly Cool students to ever grace a high school. Quite frankly, the obnoxiously vain crack weasels that are presented as the so-called 'cool kids' in the teen dramas from the 90's and early part of this decade aren't worthy of cleaning the toilets of those I knew in high school. That hot Sunday in Tulsa, I was lunching with the real deal.
Next time, The Show Must Go On. Until then, best regards...
* Thank You for Being a Friend © Lackyu Music, Los Angeles, CA 1978
© James P. Rice 2009
Traveled down the road and back again,
Your heart is true you're a pal and a confidant.
I'm not ashamed to say,
I hope it always will stay this way.
My hat is off, won't you stand up and take a bow.
- from Andrew Gold's Thank You for Being a Friend!*
As I noted last time, I now know that I suffered from undiagnosed clinical depression my Senior year in high school. The reason I mentioned everything that led to my depression was so you would understand why I had all but given up on successfully completing high school. I couldn't see how to get out of the pit I was in and was on the verge of allowing the depression to paralyze me. That's where the people I've been talking about came in. Between the friends I was having lunch with at El Guapo's on Sunday the 12th, other friends I've mentioned throughout this series, and two special teachers, I (barely) managed to graduate.
I don't think any of my friends ever knew how close it had been or how important they had been to me. It wasn't because they tutored me or (God Forbid) helped me cheat, it was because of two things: 1) they provided me with living examples of what I should be doing; and 2) they never once applied Peer Pressure to me for any reason. If I didn't have two teen aged daughters of my own that had allowed me to view Peer Pressure from a father's point of view, I don't think I would have ever realized how blessed I was in high school.
During my years at Memorial, I knew people who used recreational drugs, who were a bit wild, who smoked, who skipped school, who had secret lives, who...well, you get the idea. But not a single one of those people ever put any sort of pressure on me to do what they were doing. I was offered the opportunity to join in if I wanted to, but it was no big deal if I didn't. I was blessed to be surrounded by the sweetest, kindest, funnest, most truly Cool students to ever grace a high school. Quite frankly, the obnoxiously vain crack weasels that are presented as the so-called 'cool kids' in the teen dramas from the 90's and early part of this decade aren't worthy of cleaning the toilets of those I knew in high school. That hot Sunday in Tulsa, I was lunching with the real deal.
Next time, The Show Must Go On. Until then, best regards...
* Thank You for Being a Friend © Lackyu Music, Los Angeles, CA 1978
© James P. Rice 2009
03 August 2009
The 30 Years and Counting Octopost -or- Send in the Clowns
Don't you love farce?
My fault I fear.
I thought that you'd want what I want.
Sorry, my dear.
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don't bother, they're here.
- excerpt from Send in the Clowns, from the Stephen Sondheim musical, A Little Night Music*
While most of our classmates began their journeys home on Sunday, a dozen of us met at El Guapo's at noon for an impromptu reunion of the Masque & Gavel...and anyone else who'd been involved in the performing arts at Memorial. Like Jaimie's concert on Thursday night, it wasn't limited to the members of the Class of '79. Chargers from the Classes of 1980 and 1981 joined us for Tulsa-style TexMex, a pitcher of Mimosas, and more aerobic exercise for our memories. Beyond the hugs and smiles, the memories and updates, I began to realize what was so special about my time in high school with these people.
To set the stage for this little epiphany, let me tell you a bit about the 17 year old me. I was too smart for my own good. What this means is that, while I had the intellect that got me into the National Honor Society at the end of 9th grade, I didn't have the maturity to handle the additional responsibilities of being in high school. I had always been smart enough to make mostly A's, along with a B or two, just from the information I absorbed in class. I almost never had to crack a book. The problem with this was that I never learned how to study. By the time I hit the second half of my Junior year, I realized I was in trouble because most of my teachers were teaching "college style"...in other words, they only provided about half of the information in class and expected the students to fill in the gaps by completing outside assignments. My last three semesters were also when Real Life slapped me in the face and I was confronted for the first time with people in power (teachers) who let personal opinion and prejudices color the grades they gave me instead of going solely by my scores on assignments and tests. By Christmas break 1978, I was looking at repeating the 12th grade as a serious possibility. I didn't know it at the time, but I've since found out that I was suffering from depression I didn't know how to handle during my Senior year.
Next time, Thank You for Being a Friend! Until then, best regards...
* A Little Night Music and Send in the Clowns © Copyright Little Night Music Ltd, 2009
© James P. Rice 2009
My fault I fear.
I thought that you'd want what I want.
Sorry, my dear.
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don't bother, they're here.
- excerpt from Send in the Clowns, from the Stephen Sondheim musical, A Little Night Music*
While most of our classmates began their journeys home on Sunday, a dozen of us met at El Guapo's at noon for an impromptu reunion of the Masque & Gavel...and anyone else who'd been involved in the performing arts at Memorial. Like Jaimie's concert on Thursday night, it wasn't limited to the members of the Class of '79. Chargers from the Classes of 1980 and 1981 joined us for Tulsa-style TexMex, a pitcher of Mimosas, and more aerobic exercise for our memories. Beyond the hugs and smiles, the memories and updates, I began to realize what was so special about my time in high school with these people.
To set the stage for this little epiphany, let me tell you a bit about the 17 year old me. I was too smart for my own good. What this means is that, while I had the intellect that got me into the National Honor Society at the end of 9th grade, I didn't have the maturity to handle the additional responsibilities of being in high school. I had always been smart enough to make mostly A's, along with a B or two, just from the information I absorbed in class. I almost never had to crack a book. The problem with this was that I never learned how to study. By the time I hit the second half of my Junior year, I realized I was in trouble because most of my teachers were teaching "college style"...in other words, they only provided about half of the information in class and expected the students to fill in the gaps by completing outside assignments. My last three semesters were also when Real Life slapped me in the face and I was confronted for the first time with people in power (teachers) who let personal opinion and prejudices color the grades they gave me instead of going solely by my scores on assignments and tests. By Christmas break 1978, I was looking at repeating the 12th grade as a serious possibility. I didn't know it at the time, but I've since found out that I was suffering from depression I didn't know how to handle during my Senior year.
Next time, Thank You for Being a Friend! Until then, best regards...
* A Little Night Music and Send in the Clowns © Copyright Little Night Music Ltd, 2009
© James P. Rice 2009
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