On October 11th, I went to my 45th class reunion in Texas. Yes, dear reader, I’ve been out of high school for 45 years.

I’ve had to think long and hard about how to write about the experience. Let me assure you, it’s a bittersweet experience.

Here are a few random observances:

I graduated in 1969. Hair was a big deal. How cruel that, at the 45th reunion, there was very little hair and what there was of it was grey.

At a 10 or 15 year reunion, when you ask a former classmate how they are doing, you will usually find out what they do for a living, how long they’ve been married and how many children they have. All pretty much standard stuff. Not so at a 45th class reunion.

No, at the 45 year mark, when you ask someone how they are doing you get a medical report,’ Well, I haven’t been regular for six years.’

Seriously, the same guys that would dare you to chug a bottle of Boones Farm are now chugging Geritol and they are hell bent on telling you about it.

You’ve heard that you can’t tell the players without a scorecard. Well, let me tell you, at a 45th class reunion you can’t tell anybody without a name tag! If you go looking for the former running back from your football team, don’t start looking around for an athletic type. Look for somebody that looks like the ‘before’ picture in a Slim Fast ad.

Having said all that, it was great to see all my old friends. It’s also interesting that, after 45 years, all the old differences seem to melt away. Everybody is happy to see everybody. There are no cliques, no ‘ins’ and ‘outs’. As one attendee put it, ‘It’s just great to see everyone still above ground.’