Reunion

Well, it has finally arrived. “Not with a bang, but a whimper.” I’d swear that I heard a rasping asthmatic sigh as I opened the envelope. The final announcement of the final reunion of the Class of 1954. Dwindled from a few hundred callow and oversexed youths to the wreckage of 65 years worth of hard won rewards and painful humiliation. Wearing diapers to changing diapers to wearing diapers. A white flag of surrender to the inevitable march of time. My proud valedictory now drooling down my shirt front. 20 or so survivors. Or thus we are named in the invitation. Carpe diem.
Smethport High school. Long ago reduced to a pile of brick rubble and formless dry mementos from a family of indifferent stray dogs. Home of the mighty Smethport Hubbers. Prizewinners for the dumbest team name in Pennsylvania state sports. “Orange and black, fight ’em back!” Hallowe’en uniforms. Sheesh. The strained strains of the celebrated Smethport High School Band. Our proud legacy.
Isn’t this when I’m supposed to ask “How the hell did those people get so old“? Well, how the hell did those people get so old?