Wednesday Evening Catch Up, and I Don't Mean Condiments!

As I said in the last post, we had a very big weekend. Friday, after the filming, I attended my 40th grammar school reunion. Damn those people got old. Only kidding. It was a wonderful affair.
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There were 54 kids in my class. After graduating in 1969, I went on to our local high school. My parents had split up at the time, and we were trying to sell our house. We finally moved in December to the town I live in now. I transferred into the same high school where Bill graduated from, and eventually our children. Where I have wonderful memories of my grammar school class, I figured I had lost our connectivity because of the move. I learned the night of the reunion that only about half of the kids I graduated grammar school with went on to graduate from the same high school I first attended. A lot transferred to religous high schools, or moved away as I had. Once we had our reunion, I learned that about half the class had left the State. People came in from Texas, California, Massechusetts, Iowa, etc. Out of 54, about thirty had made it. I also learned that we lost four. One died in a motorcycle accident shortly after high school graduation. Another died of a suspected drug overdose. Yet another had a genetic disease and the last suffered a brain annurism. That was very hard to hear.
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Anyway, we hired a trolley to take us through the old neighborhood, and to pass the homes we lived in in 1969. We stopped at our grammar school and even took a tour. The new principal explained the changes. Where we stopped in what used to be the 7th and 8th grade classrooms, she explained that now the primary grades use the first floor. When we graduated, we moved up to the third floor. It was then what we called 'the branch.' Part of the freshman class then took classes there before moving to the main campus. Now it is 7th and 8th grade. We enjoyed the changes. Mainly the track desks were replaced with modern desks, although the wood floor, complete with nail holes from the tracks, were still bright and shiny. There were WPA murals in the auditoriums. I barely remember them, although knowing they were WPA, I had to take time to examine them. The Principal said that they were just cleaned and restored. They depicted 4 scenes from Illinois history.
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Once we had our fill, we checked out the playground. When we were young, it was black top. Now it is a garden complete with walking path. There is new playground equipment in the back. We wondered aloud about how we played on that blacktop without fracturing our skulls. We each suffered from scraped knees and elbows, but no worse than that.
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We got back on the trolley. Our next stop was the restaurant where we held our graduation dinner. No one could remember what room it was held in, and in fact a lot of us couldn't remember the dinner. I was surprised to be in the half that forgot. It occurred to me later that one of my most precious memories of the wickiest teacher God ever created happened there. This teacher was absolutely hateful. Still, she was possibly the best teacher I ever had. She taught me more about writing than any teacher I ever had. It wasn't until our graduation dinner that I had a moment to talk to her one on one. She was enormously proud of us that night. It surprised me then how much she cared.
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We finally made our way to a country club just inside the Chicago city limits, only blocks from our old school. We took time then to catch up. It was almost funny to see each of us running up to one another, saying, 'How are you? What do you do for a living and how many kids do you have?' We were going to learn as much as we could about each other in the first few minutes. What I enjoyed a lot was that a lot of those who were closest in school sought each other out and stuck together throughout the night. I truly enjoyed myself.
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Saturday night I was invited to an old time sleep over, like what we used to have in 7th and 8th grade. I passed on it because it was Bill's birthday. We threw him a surprise party at a local bar-b-que restaurant. The food was great and he enjoyed himself. He said it was possibly the best birthday he ever had. I'm glad. He deserved as much. Jon paid for it and Becki organized it. I was suppose to do the invites and make the reservation. I couldn't. Bill has control of the phone. Please understand that he isn't a controlling person, just lonely since leaving work. If I were to take the phone in the other room to make calls, he'd be right there, checking on who I was calling and adding his own two cents to our conversation. Needless to say, he'd make it difficult. I'm just glad he enjoyed himself.
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As I said in my last post, I contacted a priest about clearing our yard. He promised to call me Monday. I finally called him. He made an excuse and had his secretary say he'd call back. He never did. I want to be angry with him except for two things. First off, I asked him to do something that is both frightening and odd. I must have sounded like a whack job on Saturday when I charged the Confessional, demanding that he help me. Secondly I don't want to feed my anger into the thing in the yard. If Father has decided that he doesn't want to do this, I will have to accept it. I was told by the 'sensitive' to bless the yard myself. Once I can get some holy water, I will. In the mean time, Sheeba has decided that she is no longer comfortable going back there again.
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I had to work last night. It was an unusual night which I truly enjoyed. You see I have this friend. She's fiesty to say the least. She invited everyone in town to attend a block party on Saturday, which most of us did. I dropped in in spite of all I had to do that day. Her aldermen didn't bother. Last night she got up in front of City Council and demanded their resignations because they didn't represent the people. They never walk her part of the neighborhood except when looking for votes. Why weren't they there? Both alderman took offense. One was out of town that weekend and had told her that he would be. The other claimed he donated money for the party and that she should be thankful for that. My friend got angry and said she would like to talk to him outside. After five minutes of 'bring it, bring it,' from either side, my friend declared, 'don't you dare threaten me! I'm a brown belt in karate! You'll see what happens if you take me outside!'