Friday, August 5, 2011

W.W. Samuell 1971 - 40th Reunion

Survival of the fattest…. 40 years.

Well I never in a million years thought I would ever be old enough to have 40th high school reunion. This means I’m officially old.

You always don’t know what to expect seeing old classmates. For our 40th the word “old” does have a new meaning. You know you are old when the music sounds very familiar but is just too loud. You cannot hear anyone talking 2 feet from your face. And so you just nod and smile and hope your reactions are correct. The lights are so low at these things that you have a hard time even seeing peoples faces (maybe intentional). And the name tags with "Senior" photos must have been done in # 7 font.

In my opinion this one was a lot better than the 30 year reunion. People were more outgoing and friendly. People who wouldn't really speak to you in high school are now your BFF's. Maybe this is because of a realization that we might not be able to see or hear or even walk the next time we meet!

Many of my cohorts were not closely recognizable. Perhaps it would have been good to take a few long haired wigs in several different colors. Then when you that puzzled look you could throw one of those rugs on their heads to figure out who they were. It really makes you (me) appreciate the gray and white hair you (we) have!

And wrinkles. Wow there were a lot of wrinkles. I would have had as many as most but my wrinkles have been filled in for a number of year with no sign of retreating any time soon. But thanks to low lights that was not a real issue.

And you should have seen the belt buckles. Or should I say we wish we could have seen the belt buckles on most of the guys, including my own. Some days I can’t even look down and tell what color my shoes are. But I am not alone.

OK, now for the ladies. They faired a better than the gentlemen this time. Some of them were A-OK. I repectfully (to my wife) declined to use some of the modern terms for nice looking. But also remember the lights were very low. Some (and even the guys)were dressed to kill and others of them you wanted to kill them for the way they were dressed.

All seriousness aside, it was a fun time and interesting to reunite with people that are just as old as me. And I’m glad to report that I’ve found that most of us have mellowed and gotten better. Many Facebook profiles I've read encourage me by the books folks read, the people they quote and the God they embrace and worship now. So in conclusion, the bedroom community of Pleasant Grove instilled many good values into the lives of thousands of grove rats like me. This was a good place to live and a wonderful place to grow up and go to High School. I sure hope that good memories like this will inspire generations to come. We had fun growing up here.

Go Spartans! 

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