After graduation

Left town quick as I could / To start a new life without the old wood

Stopped in Madison for a change and a degree / Fun… but not the place where I discovered me.

New York City next… it was the end / felt like the place for me to begin

Settled for jobs of boring ennui / And somehow began to see

who and where I wanted to be

Then I said stop, with nowhere to go / Turned in, dropped out watched

the Technicolor show

The sights were delicious the road was grand / finally became the emancipated man.

Fled to California for a fortnight stand / my lady in tow and we got high

Next thing I knew… we married on Mt. Tamalpi

Started a new scene: married life / 10 years a pair w/ great joy, some strife

over time 3 kids did come and then the wife bid adieu

A rude awakening for sure, but I started anew

Found new circles, swam & ran races, met the great and famous

In music, art, science, those in high places

And home every night with my own progeny

The place most comfortable where I wanted to be

Then they graduated college, went out on their own

married and families, in far away homes

Me, I met a great friend who became my wife

A warm, bright chapter continues my life

I still travel and race though now at the end of the pack

And other than good health, little that I lack

So I sit at my window staring out at space

Knowing the Man above has shown me His good grace

Or simply put: what a long strange trip it’s been

I suspect I speak for a lot of classmates who attended this wonderful reunion last weekend. I can’t thank the committee enough for creating such an incredibly organized, seamless, flawless set of events (okay, my chicken was a tad dry). When I wasn’t busy talking to old friends and those I had never spent any time with in school (and when wasn’t I talking…), I was so pleased to see how everyone mixed so well. And what a wonderful Memory Book you put together. You deserve all the public acknowledgement and appreciation we can bestow. THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!
 

Well, I do have a small bone to pick. I see in the Memory Book I somehow have acquired another ex-husband, which is a complete surprise to me and no doubt to Mr. Long. Perhaps you misunderstood when I may actually have joked about Mr. Wrong. Or when I was reminiscing about studying Robert Louis Stevenson in English Lit class and mentioned Long John Silver. Or even perhaps been part of a political discussion with me about the Clarence Thomas Supreme Court confirmation hearings and Anita Hill’s mention about “Long Dong Silver.” (Google it….) 
 

With apologies to Linus Pauling during the House on Un-American Activities Committee hearings, I am not married to anyone named Long. I have never been married to anyone named Long. I have never been involved with anyone named Long.
 

How I long to clear this up, which I hope won’t take too long. So before I go on too long, with apologies now to Jimmy Durante (and how old do we have to be to remember him), good night Mr. Long, wherever you are. 
 

MW

At an age when most of you are fleeing to warmer climates—at least for the winter—I have moved BACK to Minnesota, fleeing California, where I had spent most of my adult life. My deal with the devil—that would be me—was that if I didn’t like the weather on any given day (e.g. 3 snowflakes or anything I considered cold) I simply wouldn’t leave the comforts of home. I now reside in Minneapolis, within sight and/or walking distance of my beloved lakes.

Graduated from the University of Minnesota in 1966 with a degree in psychology and journalism minor, which, along with the experience in the many campus activities I was involved in, served me well in life. I also picked up a Master’s in Mass Communications. Married and divorced along the way. I’ve had two careers, one as a professional writer and the other in the non-profit world, mostly as a fundraiser. I’ve since retired from going to an office and now invest and trade in the stock market from the comfort of home. But as great as these careers have been, nothing has been more rewarding than my volunteer work at animal shelters here and in L.A. socializing and rehabilitating shy, fearful, and abused dogs, training to make them more adoptable, and then finding loving homes for them.

Okay class, sharpen your pencils for a pop quiz. Name the culprit who sneaked into Central’s locked tower where the final galleys for the 1962 school directory were stored and, uh, created a few new classmates. Since I think the Statute of Limitations has elapsed, I will now confess to the dastardly deed, along with an unnamed co-conspirator. (For bonus points what were the names; never mind, they seemed clever at the time….) Bonus points if you guess which one is me in the photo.

All in all, my life has been pretty good; I wouldn’t change much. I am enjoying my old and new friends and family and new life. I am home!