How old am I, you ask?  Old enough to attend my 50 year high school reunion, since you seem interested.  In fact, it was exactly 50 years to this very day that I a donned my cap and gown and happily snatched my high school diploma out of the hands of my beloved principal, Fr. Francis Wehri OSB.  And I got lucky with the cap and gown.  Ordinarily, extra layers of clothing cause me to overheat.  But on this particular day in May there was an inch or two of snow on the ground, so I was generally quite comfortable.   Sometimes stuff just naturally works out for me.   Like graduating from high school.  I managed to accomplish that without a setback of any kind.  Then again, I wasn’t one of those univac guys that graduated early and entered college as a sophomore either.  Not that I don’t have a lot of great ideas bouncing around inside my skull.  I just about have my amphibious bicycle idea ready to present to the patent office.  I suppose if I had applied myself better I could have been valedictorian.  But at some point I decided to step aside and let Bob Dostal, Dick Gross, Dick Schlosser, and others battle it out for honors.  I’m nothing if not a nice guy.  In the end I was very content with my life’s progress at that point.  I was 17 and right on target- class of 65, and I was completely confident I was prepared for my college experience.  I went to high school at Assumption Abbey, a  Catholic  preparatory school for boys located in Richardton, ND.  Here is a picture of it back then (picture #1.)

Assumption Abbey Then- Picture #1

Assumption Abbey Now- Picture #2

I’m not sure my source is entirely credible, but from what I hear Picture #2 is what the Abbey looks like now.  I can’t quite figure what happened between then and now, but I can tell you some mighty fierce winds blew through the area in my day.  I plan on taking a good look around when I’m there in August for the reunion.  I’ll get the story from the Benedictine’s who run the place.  I am hoping there are a few of them that are still alive who would remember me.  I have to tell you I have unfavorable expectations of that happening though.  As a group my class really wore them down.  The calories consumed to calories expended ratio had to be completely out of whack for the men in black if you consider the effort it took for them to beat the unholy shit out of us.  We were relentless, and our creativity boundless, when it came to giving them a good work out.  I would venture to say many of them had to eat an extra meal and take a two hour nap daily just to keep from passing out from exhaustion.  All that wear and tear had to take a toll.

But let’s face it.  A reunion is mostly about reconnecting with old friends and acquaintances, at least the ones that are still alive.  I can’t wait to see them and find out what my old buddies look like now.  Some of us will probably get together and make fun of this guy or that guy, just like we did in  high school.  What a hoot!  As a reminder, if any of you guys make fun of me, Wayne LaPierre’s son is my next door neighbor.  He and I have become pretty good friends over the years.  He’s an even bigger psycho than his dad and believe me he’d be absolutely thrilled to take on the challenge of hunting you down.  Just a friendly head’s up.

I’m really excited to hear all the life’s stories that went on after we graduated.  I bet there are some doozies.  There will be guys telling me about their careers, their family, and they will probably tell me about interesting vacations they took.  Before I forget, here is a picture that my wife took of me playing Santa Clause during a little vacation we took this past Christmas.  This was on the beach at Bali.

Of course the best stories will involve our pranks and exploits during those high school days gone by.  I still reminisce about playing football at the Abbey.  Lots of times I page through my favorite photo album, and I especially like to show my grandchildren all the pictures I have of me competing in various sporting events.  I have included a few here.  Most of my classmates will recognize them.  Who can ever forget the picture of me making this diving  catch that sealed the victory against Watford City.   I think Ron Kilber took it, but it could have been Edgar Smith too.  He was always dicking around with one kind of camera or another.  Mike Cummings will try and tell you he actually scored that decisive touchdown, but come on Mike- show me the picture.  I didn’t think so.  One of the favorites of my grandchildren is this picture of me right before I launched the shot put 78ft 4in. for a new state record.  They think that facial expression is hilarious.   I believe Dick Gross took that one.  I am sure he would remember it.  Of course I have a whole bunch of other pictures.  I’ll just show you a couple more.  The one directly below is not of me. You knew that.  This is of the kid from Bismarck I wrestled for the state championship my senior year.  He  always tried to look like a big tough guy, but when I pinned him in 22 seconds of the first period, he didn’t act so tough.  Of the four state wrestling champion trophies I won, I think that one is the one I remember the most.  I wish I could remember where I put all those darn trophies.  Then there is this one of me slam-dunking on a break-away lay-up that time against St.  Mary’s.  In your face, bitches!   I have lots more pictures in my special album I could show you, but you know me.  I hate bragging on myself.  I just save that for the grandkids.  The oldest (he’s eight) thinks some of the pictures don’t look like me. He’s a very precocious kid, but now that I am older and have a beard and such, I know it has to confuse him.  Kids!  They think they know everything.  Everybody likes ass, but nobody likes a smart ass.  That’s what I keep telling him.

Well, ok then.  Like I mentioned, this reunion of mine is in August.  It will be here before you know it.  I’ll take some notes and let you know how it goes.  I will probably drive to Richardton.  It’s about a 10 hour trip I think.  I was considering flying, but I’m not sure I will be able to find my brand of scotch in North Dakota.  That’s why I’m driving.  That way I can just keep it simple and take a case along with me in the car.  I hope that’s enough to see me through.