My 45th Reunion has come and gone and left many, many sweet memories. Princeton Reunions are like none other in the world and go on for four days, although most people only attend the Saturday festivities. I was part of the planning for our class's Reunions this year and came to appreciate how much planning and work is involved. One roommate and friend, Hugh Thompson and his wife Judy, came to their very first, which was very special. I also got to see other old friends and quite a few I did not know as a student, including that digital age phenomenon, those I only knew from social media and met in person for the first time. Lots of fun conversations: who did what as undergrads, who has done what since then. I especially love hearing about things I had forgotten. There were a few sad stories, too.
My additional treat is to see and hear from former students, several this year. On Sunday at the farewell brunch, I had a funny meal with a classmate whom I did not know as students, and whose son had been in a precept with me. The son was there, too. A bit awkward at first, because the son had been lazy in class and I wrote him a somewhat caustic note at the end of the semester. But it was years ago and I obviously didn't bring it up and we all had a pleasant time.
In what is apparently a first, the P-Rade, in which all attendees march in order through the campus in front of the other classes, all dressed in their orange and black garb, and many spectators, and which normally takes two hours, was canceled one hour in as thunderstorms rolled in and lightening threatened. A little rain, but nothing to get worked up about. Lovely fireworks on Saturday evening after a concert from the University Orchestra. Our Saturday night music was a group called the Blushing Brides, who have been doing Rolling Stones covers for forty years and whose lead singer does uncanny Mick Jagger moves and dances (and voice, too). At the Friday dinner, I became a class Vice-President, something I would not have predicted in several million years. As we have usually done, Janet and I danced the night away on Friday and Saturday nights.
In the very small world department, the student crew for our class's Reunions was headed up by two football players, one of whom was Tom Johnson, an All-Ivy linebacker last fall. I happened to mention to him that Erin was a sideline doctor for last fall's home games, and he said that she had stitched up his leg at halftime in one game after a cleat gash. She confirmed it.
It goes without saying that these friendships old and new gather new meaning and depth of emotion as the years go by. And they get better, too. One of my favorite parts of the year.
My additional treat is to see and hear from former students, several this year. On Sunday at the farewell brunch, I had a funny meal with a classmate whom I did not know as students, and whose son had been in a precept with me. The son was there, too. A bit awkward at first, because the son had been lazy in class and I wrote him a somewhat caustic note at the end of the semester. But it was years ago and I obviously didn't bring it up and we all had a pleasant time.
In what is apparently a first, the P-Rade, in which all attendees march in order through the campus in front of the other classes, all dressed in their orange and black garb, and many spectators, and which normally takes two hours, was canceled one hour in as thunderstorms rolled in and lightening threatened. A little rain, but nothing to get worked up about. Lovely fireworks on Saturday evening after a concert from the University Orchestra. Our Saturday night music was a group called the Blushing Brides, who have been doing Rolling Stones covers for forty years and whose lead singer does uncanny Mick Jagger moves and dances (and voice, too). At the Friday dinner, I became a class Vice-President, something I would not have predicted in several million years. As we have usually done, Janet and I danced the night away on Friday and Saturday nights.
In the very small world department, the student crew for our class's Reunions was headed up by two football players, one of whom was Tom Johnson, an All-Ivy linebacker last fall. I happened to mention to him that Erin was a sideline doctor for last fall's home games, and he said that she had stitched up his leg at halftime in one game after a cleat gash. She confirmed it.
It goes without saying that these friendships old and new gather new meaning and depth of emotion as the years go by. And they get better, too. One of my favorite parts of the year.
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