29 March 2004
The monk bought lunch
When I was back there in secondary school, there was a person there who put forth the proposition that no, wait, no one ever propositioned me in those days.
The arithmetic doesn't lie, but still it seems impossible that I should pop open an envelope this afternoon and out comes this:
Can you believe that 2004 marks the 35th year since we graduated from [name goes here] High School?
In a word, no. And I really ought to see if there's some way I can go to one of these reunions, if only to deal with the spectacle of a classmate celebrating Mass; somehow there's a disconnect between "Hey, Larry!" and "Good afternoon, Monsignor."
If the list is to be believed, and I see no reason why it shouldn't be, they've tracked at least 150 of us, out of a smidgen over 200. Not bad after three and a half decades. And at least I recognized three names (out of five) on the planning committee.