Still cutting up fifty years later

Saturday: Crisp fall air, great sunny weather, terrific hosts Ron and Betty-Kate, delicious food, good friends, music provided by country legend, Phil Sheppard, who opened for The Little River Band, and rock legend Chuck Kiel of CK Thunder. These guys have had their own bands for decades.

 

Entertainment (not the same as music) provided by the "boys" and "girls" — most of those in attendance first walked the hallowed halls of our alma mater, McKinley High School, fifty years ago.

HALF a CENTURY! How did we get this old? How did we make it this long? How did we lose so many classmates over the years?

Despite the fact that we are eligible for senior discounts, Social Security, and Medicare, we ditched our adult pretenses and reverted back to the kids we used to be. No bragging about our latest achievements, barely a mention of the kids/grandkids/dogs of which we are all so proud. A little complaining by the women about wrinkles and talk of desired face lifts. Overall, we all look good for our ages and we're all in relatively good health. That is a blessing.

We laughed until our cheeks hurt; told stories that took us back to the days of gas wars between neighboring service stations which drove price-per-gallon below 25 cents. Back then, we thought nothing of walking fifteen blocks to Cherokee Street, a four block string of independently owned small businesses and dime stores with candy counters that sold yummies by the pound, hot peanuts and fresh popcorn...patrons were assailed by the aromas and overwhelmed by the endless selections.

All afternoon we sat outdoors on a sunlit patio overlooking a gorgeous vista, autumn appealing to our five senses: artist palette of leaf colors, the aroma of wood smoke, a brisk breeze stirring us to pull our jackets closed, the sounds of laughter and music pealing across the hills, down the pasture and into the valley, scrumptious food and delicious wines to sample.

The spouses who did not attend McK were regaled with stories they've probably heard a million times, told from a different perspective. "No-no, that's not what happened. Don't you remember when...?"

Evening dropped like a drape and chilled the hills. Our silhouettes backlit with the pink and orange setting sun, we sat in a circle and sang everything from John Denver songs to the oldies and rock songs of our era, with the fire pit spitting sparks as brilliant as the stars overhead.

As we old timers hobbled stiffly to our cars, we could all agree, we were satiated... in so many ways.