High School Class of 1958

My oldest friend celebrated his 70th birthday in July. I met him at Birmingham-Southern College in Alabama in the summer of 1964, and I felt an instant connection. He was active in the college theatre and later moved to Los Angeles to pursue an acting career. He succeeded, and he's now retired on a Screen Actor's Guild pension and Social Security, living a relatively quiet life in Sherman Oaks, CA. Some time last year, he had his Medicare card tatooed on his arm, which actually looks quite good and has elicited several comments. I've enjoyed watching him in films and various television shows over the years, and my son and I even watched him shoot some scenes in Florida for a Jerry Lewis movie. I say all this because I can't get my head around the fact that I've known someone for 44 years. It's an all too accurate reminder that I'm an old guy, too. I'm officially a senior citizen and have been for some time.

But neither of us feels like a senior in our minds. It was only yesterday that I was a physically healthy, mentally sharp 35 year old working full time while earning a Master's Degree. When I think of the hours of reading, study, research, I can hardly believe how I did it all. Back then being tired was what old people did, But now I am one, and I can hardly believe it. Remember when the age of even college athletes seemed so far, far away? And now I tune in to a game and see children playing for USC or Alabama. Those big, tough football players look so young now, from my present vantage point.

My high school alma mater recently sent me some material on the 50th anniversary of the Class of 1958. My friend of 44 years attended his Class of 1956 high school reunion in 2006, but I won't be at mine, for several reasons, the most immediate of which is that I attended that school for only about a year and a half, and I really didn't get to know many people. It never felt like "my school." Also, my health weighs heavily against such a trip. But even if I were healthy, had remained at Bessemer High School in Alabama for 4 years, and had received 50th anniversary material from them, I still wouldn't attend. I have memories of the "kids" I knew then, most of those memories fond or funny or bittersweet, and I choose to leave the "kids" in the memories as they were: young, hopeful, with their whole lives ahead of them. That was me, too, back then, a long time ago.