Fifty years slip by
I am about to attend one of the most stressful events anyone can imagine. That’s right: I will soon be going to my high school class reunion. Specifically, it’s the reunion that will mark 50 years since we graduated. Fifty years. How can that be? How is it that half a century has slipped under the bridge since we wore those ridiculously oversized gowns and those silly caps that looked like a cross between a beanie and a pizza box? I’ve stayed in touch with a few of my classmates over the years. Some of them, like me, never left the area. We’re among those who decided to ...