Why is it that every month we have to have a holiday? Is Halloween a holiday? For certain unnamed entities it is; I am sure of it. Halloween used to be simple. My mother put me in a dress with beads, applied generous amounts of rouge and lipstick, told me I was a gypsy, and gave me a pillow case to collect candy. Humiliated I went forth, following the lead of the older children. I soon shed the humiliation and replaced it with glee and mischief when I figured out this was a free sugar bar. Any and every flavor of chocolate and candy was at my disposal by singing a short chime.
Today it seems to be different. Church folk have embraced the "holiday" as if in some mad competition to pass out more sugar than the Devil. It is not so safe to wander around in neighborhoods singing for candy. I am not confident that some churches are safe for kids, but at least we know where they are. "Trick in Trunk" is the latest gig at churches. See a kid you want.... toss 'em in the trunk. I know, the candy is in the trunk and that is how they pass it out. This has all the makings of a new "B" horror movie.
The costumes have been changing for years, lots of good ones are about. I think this country is obsessed with horror though. I say enough of the horror. I am tired of horror. I think that horror turns into gross, then into pathetic, then into boring. Funny is the ticket. This is the way to go. You have to use more of your imagination to create scary funny. That, or cute is the answer. Kids under six are what makes this "holiday" fun. Thirty year old vampires or Star Wars characters is not what the originators of this "holiday" were thinking about when they wrote the Halloween Constitution.
Animals do not appreciate you dressing them up. They have feelings too. But then again, it is too funny to see a rat dog dressed up like Superman so that makes it OK.
Well, we made it to the Thirtieth High School Reunion, or some such number. Not everyone was able, or wanted to come, and they missed out on a good time of catching up. Our high school reunions are different than most. We all lived together on a mountain in Western North Carolina, in a strict environment, but with people who really did care about you (no matter how annoying you were). It was like going to church every day of your life. I like church for the most part, but sometimes it gives me a headache.
I tried to lay down the rules of a reunion in my previous blog. These rules fell on deaf ears obviously. The roadmap to success is to follow directions. Speaking of directions, I needed directions in a bad way. No, I did not have a GPS, I had a Rand McNally. Let me show you how that worked out for me.
Yes, so we did finally make it. It only took twenty five years to go to another reunion, but it was worth it. We had really small classes in high school, and we lived together, ate together, showered together, played sports together, and dated the same forty or so girls. It was very cool how we all jumped right back into the melting pot and became Ben Lippen Stew again. I, of course, am not so much substance in that stew, just mostly bits of salt and pepper. I was disturbed by the violations that I encountered right off the bat. Here we have documentation of dancing, touching, and crazy laughter.
I know, scary right? This is why we have rules. You break the rules and you must pay the consequences. Welcome to gf D-Hall. No writing of words or restrictions, no, just Worldwide You Tube.
Got that?
OK, on to the reunion the next afternoon. This was a lot of fun, mostly.
I was impressed beyond my expectations with the photography of this event by several classmates. I will have to collect some of these and share them with the blog world. I am sure I will have to pay a fee as some are professional photographers. Very nice job Ricky, Ben, and Beth as well as others. I on the other hand do not claim to be any thing by amateurish with my newly acquired photo hobby. So then, here are my pictures during picture time.
I also had the opportunity to spend some time with my family at this reunion. My son Alex and his girlfriend Katelyn came for a day visit. This was a well received surprise and we took advantage of it with some time in Charleston with them.
After some shopping we ate at Hyman's Seafood Restaurant, and then took a "Ghost Walk" through downtown.....spooky. Yea.
While on the Isle of Palms we checked out Fort Moultrie and also discovered a "Fort Church".
It was a good weekend that I really needed. The weather was perfect so that I did not need all of the sweaters and long sleeves that I had packed. Thank for all of you for inviting me, and putting up with my new video toy. A special shout out goes to Dawn Garlow who is our undecorated "Secretary of Alumni Affairs". This is her new title. She keeps up with everyone's email addresses, sends out myriads of birthday reminders, and overall keeps us all in the loop when the rest of us are "too busy" to communicate with each other. Thank you Dawn, great job.
P.S.
As I started to write this blog, which was to be a funny documentation in a gf way, I felt as though someone has kicked me in the stomach, and I had the feeling of disappointment, as though someone had tossed my ice cream cone into the dirt. One of our classmates Tom Scott has passed away. Tom was a real good guy. He was smart, funny, and a great athlete. Even though I had not kept up with Scott (like many others) I thought of him often, and I missed him at this reunion.
I will continue on, and I will do what I do in this blog, and that is be a distraction, an annoyance, and sometimes if I try real hard, I can make someone laugh. That is what I need right now. We will miss you Tom.
I finally made plans to attend a High School reunion. I am not sure why, but I recon than it was mostly due to harassment by other classmates. I look forward to it in some twisted and odd way. There will be plenty of odd moments, pauses in conversation, and amazement at what thirty years will do to a body. I hope that there will also be some old friendships made anew again.
What I dread will be "story time". I will flee from this activity unless I am the one telling the stories. I do like to tell a story. Embellishing the original story just enough not to call it an out right lie is the trick. Decorating the story with colorful side stories and clever comment is what I enjoy the most. This also distracts others from telling stories about you. Trapped in the "oh, I cannot believe do don't remember that" conversation is the ultimate deceit. It never happened, but you are so old, and or you were so messed up at the time, that there is no way to combat this tactic.
My plan is to play Snoopy's Joe Cool. You just can't mess with Joe Cool. One must be cool to play Joe Cool though. Nerds need not apply. Joe has it going on. He is confident, handsome, and well, just damn cool. I imagine that this reunion will mark us as mostly uncool; so we must fight back.
Here are the Cool Rules:
1. No high water pants or out dated clothing. This will make us uncool right out of the gate if we mess this rule up.
2. Use of catch phases older that five years are strictly prohibited. "Dude", "Far Out", "Radical", may put one in jeopardy.
3. Dancing. Stop it. Sit down and eat your doughnut.
4. Laughing too loud, or with some weird squeal or snorting action, is not allowed.
5. Too much hugging or kissing is prohibited. You are not my grandmother; stop it.
6. Living in the past is prohibited. Put the yearbook away. We made it through adolescence; there is no need to drag us back through it again.
7. Drinking too much. This is another activity that should have been exclusive to the time frame of youth. "I was young and stupid" is a good excuse; "Look at the old drunk" is not.
Seven a good Biblical number. That should do it for now. Wish us luck. We will need it.
This comment immediately started a clamor amongst the workers and volunteers at the local Senior Center. "She don't need that extra; that is bad for her heart." and "If she doesn't watch it she will get fat."and "Now every one will want extra." as well as other comments were sent flying across the room. I volunteer occasionally, sometimes with a twisted arm, and other times not, because I really enjoy the buzz of a Senior Center. If you seek cheap entertainment, this is the place to be.
As I was listening, while drinking my third cup of coffee, my mind started whirring a bit.
What am I going to do when I am 87? Exacty. Whatever the hell I want to. If I make it to 87 I think I will have an extra biscuit please, among some other treats. I proposed this thinking to the group. There was a pause in the room for less than a minute, then everyone started in on what they would do if they made it to 87. This is when it got interesting. As the workers thought about the question their true personalities started to come out.
I started off with orange hair. Hey, if the lady out front can have orange hair why can't I? "I am going to play my banjo poorly (as usual), on the front porch, while chewing on my extra sausage biscuit, with orange hair."
Then came the obligatory " I am gonna get stoned." ; this started a Bevis and Butt Head twenty minutes that no one will ever get back. Once getting stoned was out of the way the real bright ideas started flowing.
"I'm going to start back smoking."
"I'm, going to eat pork." (maybe she was Jewish?)
"I'm going to fart all day long, in public."
"Not going to shave my arm pits, or legs; I am going to drink booze all day, and mess my pants." (winner winner, chicken dinner)
"I am going to let my dog run off."
"I am going to be bossy."
Thinking for my spouse, I suggested that she would eat bon bons, and read romance books all day. I looked back on when my grandfather (mother's side) Asa A. Gullet was still with us. He did not make it to 87, but he had a good plan. He solicited the idea of taking cold showers to anyone who would listen. He also ate dry wheat toast and drank pots of coffee while he rambled on in monotones about his life on the farm, or droned out the last couple of verses to his latest poem. Most of the family thought of this activity of his as being somewhat annoying, but I found a weird comfort in it. He was doing what made him happy and I applaud that.
My grandmother (father's side), was way too cautious in my opinion. She would have done well dying her hair orange and farting in public. She was always aware of perceptions, and politeness; that is unless if it had to do with another race. Maybe if she had done something that she really thought was out of the box she would have smiled more often. She was content with pickling peppers, and sewing hems, and eating beets.
If you are a Senior and you are not going to a Senior Center, you are missing out. A Senior Center is like a country club without the booze and golf. Some people just go to church and they make that their social gathering place. That is good I guess, but you really will miss a lot if you just stick with the church crowd. There are some hilarious people at a Senior Center.
If I make it to 87 I am going to.....
Wear a Speedo,
grow a pony tail,
get a tattoo,
dye my hair orange,
and annoy as many people as possible.
Today it seems to be different. Church folk have embraced the "holiday" as if in some mad competition to pass out more sugar than the Devil. It is not so safe to wander around in neighborhoods singing for candy. I am not confident that some churches are safe for kids, but at least we know where they are. "Trick in Trunk" is the latest gig at churches. See a kid you want.... toss 'em in the trunk. I know, the candy is in the trunk and that is how they pass it out. This has all the makings of a new "B" horror movie.
The costumes have been changing for years, lots of good ones are about. I think this country is obsessed with horror though. I say enough of the horror. I am tired of horror. I think that horror turns into gross, then into pathetic, then into boring. Funny is the ticket. This is the way to go. You have to use more of your imagination to create scary funny. That, or cute is the answer. Kids under six are what makes this "holiday" fun. Thirty year old vampires or Star Wars characters is not what the originators of this "holiday" were thinking about when they wrote the Halloween Constitution. 
