talkin 'bout... 20 years gone by....

I had a friend was a big baseball player back in high school He could throw that speedball by you Make you look like a fool boy Saw him the other night at this roadside bar I was walking in, he was walking out We went back inside sat down had a few drinks but all he kept talking about was Glory days well they'll pass you by Glory days in the wink of a young girl's eye Glory days, glory days Well there's a girl that lives up the block back in school she could turn all the boy's heads Sometimes on a Friday I'll stop by and have a few drinks after she put her kids to bed Her and her husband Bobby well they split up I guess it's two years gone by now We just sit around talking about the old times, she says when she feels like crying she starts laughing thinking about Glory days yeah goin back Glory days aw he ain't never had Glory days, glory days Now I think I'm going down to the well tonight and I'm going to drink till I get my fill And I hope when I get old I don't sit around thinking about it but I probably will Yeah, just sitting back trying to recapture a little of the glory of, well time slips away and leaves you with nothing mister but boring stories of glory days
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20 year class reunion... we laughed we cried we did a lot of hugging... (well, replace crying w/ drinking beer)... a lot of half hugging... some side hip bump hugging... some terrorist fist bumping... some simple head nods while passing... some squinting at name tags (errr.. not at the cleavage) to figure out who the heck that was that you were (or are) chatting w/, throwing out some generic platitudes like "wow, long time" or "so, what have you been up to lately?" or "should i know you?" or as the night wore on, "so, hey... ...you... umm... did we ever... ahh.. ya, know...{insert billy crystal air fist pump}?"

country club said that for the ~200 folks that 1 keg would certainly be enough. so naive. granted, i'm sure the class slowed down compared to say a 5 yr reunion, but more than a 40 yr. as i was leaving, i heard that the 4th keg had been tapped. was happy to see that there was no loud obnoxious (vanhalen and acdc) music blaring too loud and making dancing the focus of the night instead of talking. still, i sort of lost my voice early anyway, w/ the need to yell above the constant din. dang, i didn't realize how much i missed being around so many of those folks. i actually recognized almost everyone (w/ an early mess up calling kyle "jason" but that's about it, i think) and most looked great.

long nite for the wife, i'm sure (and every other SO). did a school tour at 1. dropped off the little ones at mama's. hung out at dawn's for a few hours before the event (mmmm... crock pot cheese dip... not so "mmmm" - the worst beer selection i could have dreamed of. miller lite?! lime beer? zima?! you kiddin' me?), then country club from 6 to 12-ish. i bet i chatted w/ 100 of the ol' falcons. only left the wife to fend for herself about 23 times thoughout the nite. (before we left, she said "you gotta wear this" and threw me my mini handcuff shackle... errrr.. wedding band. surprised it still fit - haven't worn it in about 2 years.)

did the requisite gossiping, i.e. "catching up on other people" at the reunion. lots of life stories compressed down to "oh, i'm now living in X. have a few kids, X and X. work at X, doing X. that's about it". next!

unrelated: the wife and i went to yangs, (woodbury chinese dine in / take out), and had this verbatim (really, not even any poetic license... just slightly faulty memory) discussion. i love hot, spicy food, of course

jeff: i'll take the sesame chicken
her: ok, how hot?
j: what are my options?
h: between one five
j: five
h: hot 5 or a mild 5?
j: well, as hot as i can get it. can i order it as a 6?
h: sure
j: ok, what's the hottest i can order?
h: five
j: but i want it hot as possible
h: well, then raise your number higher
j: ok, but what's the highest number i can say?
h: five
j: okay... how about a... ten?
h: ok. sure. one time guy order 18. cooks eyes got big when i bring order back.
j: can i change my number to 18?
h: no, only go to five
j: ummm... ok, sure... {w/ defeat in my voice} i guess i'll take a five. a hot five.
h: ok, five it is (walks away briskly... as the victor)

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it came. tasted more like a mild 5. next time, i ain't even gonna ask. just order... "sesame chicken, 18 hot. thank you." and start humming loudly while staring at my phone so she can't talk me down from any post-5 hotness. speaking of hotness... i'm looking forward to the post-25 or post-30 hotness (or grayness, bad knees, 2 divorces & 4 jobs later) reunion.