Friendship and hope renewed

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An auspicious moon is rising as I type this: last quarter, half-full. Divided between future and past, like Janus, looking both ahead and behind.

Twenty years ago, on the occasion of parting from my high school classmates, I scribed my thoughts in a journal. At the time, I could scarce have imagined the form of the journal in which I now record these.


I arrived at the Lamb Cottage to the north of Skinner's Butte, along the familiar bikepath, later and less prepared than I'd hoped. I should not have worried about not getting out to Market of Choice, as the cookies I got from Safeway went well enough, and I didn't have to bring any of them home. (I was able to score some hot dogs, with buns, and lemonade as leftovers during tear-down.)

I recognized perhaps half the people there, and knew only a couple. One of these was an old crush, attending with her husband and daughters. She was very kind and made me welcome, even though she was suffering from a bad cold and had almost no voice after straining it during the previous night's gathering at a bar (which I did not attend). I also recognized another old friend, who came with his own spouse and kids - including a daughter who looked like she'd stepped right out of a 1920s storybook or catalog ad, and a son who I helped with carrying too many cups of water without realizing who it was (learning only later). Neither came to the 10-year-reunion, so this was the first time I had seen either of them since graduation.

The two women who organized this reunion were both very nice, and at least one of them hardly seemed to have changed - I knew her as soon as I saw her. Figures that she was the class president, back in the day. When the catered picnic was over, I helped them with the tear-down and clean-up, just being my usual helpful self (and paying in my own private accounting for the food I ended up taking home).

I stopped off briefly at home, to deposit everything in the refrigerator and shower and change. I got to the Villard St. Pub (a McDonalds, back in the day) around 7:15 and was one of the first ones there. I treated myself to a Steelhead Brewery root beer (tasty) and then had Sierra Mist and water for the rest of the evening.

I'd brought my yearbooks to the picnic and left them at home this time, instead bringing the class poster (a list of all the class members with a SEHS Class of 1987 watermark), figuring this was the perfect occasion. Most responded with surprise and delight, and tried to find their own name or a no-show's.

I fell in early with two of my fellow "old-school" geeks and discussed common interests and history, though I still didn't remember them from those days. Different circles. Ironically, at least one of them (the guy with the ooo-shiny iPhone) did know my other friend well, and along with someone who turned up late for the picnic, we formed a conversation cluster later. I collected emails, naturally.

I had two very pleasant and unexpected revelations about my friend: first, his (lovely) wife is an absolutely huge sci-fi fan, and we spent many happy minutes geeking out about various shows while he was off getting drinks and talking with others. Second, he is now himself a lawyer, working in family law at a Portland firm with a branch office here in Eugene. He was careful not to promise me a job, but he said that he would put my name out there, and that this was the "inside track." I was properly (meaning: extremely) grateful in my thanks. I was skeptical of the chances of doing any networking at this reunion, as some had suggested, but there you go. *shrug* And even if nothing comes of it, I had a very nice social day and evening and was able to reconnect with one of the nicest guys I remember.

I took the opportunity to ride through the University on my way back - since my most convenient route from there passes through part of campus anyway - and note again how much has changed in the last twenty years and what is still the same. I made sure that my route also took me across the front side of South, from auditorium to gym, before turning for those last few blocks to home.


I must remember to pass along to my father the warm wishes of one of his classmates, who called me a few days ago to check up on him - this being his 50th anniversary - and to commend me on my own.

In closing, my feet are sore, as is my throat (from all the talking). But that's okay.

Comments

[gwyd.livejournal.com]

This is off topic, but you were all through my dreams last night, visting mostly.