Old Friends and Loud Music

A week ago Saturday, FBG and I made our way to the Sagebrush Cantina for my 40^th reunion. It was a beautiful summer evening and I was looking forward to seeing friends and acquaintances and sharing memories.

As we walked to the entrance, all of the sudden I had a mini panic attack. I felt like I was 17 and walking into the dance, feeling insecure and awkward. I told FBG I wanted to go home. He laughed and said, “Come on” and in we went.

Reunions are such odd things. People who you shared so much with so many years ago surround you. They look familiar and yet different. It is almost surreal!

Everyone was friendly, talkative and fun to be with. It was a hoot to see everyone looking so carefully at each other’s tags to see who was who. Laughter and screams of recognition filled the air as folks found old friends they had been looking for.  Little groups formed as people got reacquainted.We grumbled because the 60’s/70’s music they were playing was so loud it was hard to hear each other. Then we laughed at the irony of it, since we used to play that exact music so loudly that many of us have hearing loss! We danced, talked and ate tacos under the moon. A great time was had by all.

And then *poof* the evening was over and we all went our separate ways. Back to our regular lives, with the people we know and love now. There were lots of promises made to keep in touch and not let so many years go by before meeting up again. Such are the promises of reunions. I was glad I went and that FBG made me go in and not chicken out.

And since some of you might be wondering-there was not a bottle of Boones Farm wine in sight. Too bad. J

Old friends, old friends sat on their park bench like bookends

A newspaper blowin' through the grass

Falls on the round toes of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old men

Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun

The sounds of the city sifting through trees

Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today, sharing a park bench quietly

How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends, memory brushes the same years, silently sharing the same fears

~Simon and Garfunkel