Things I learned at my 50th reunion! ( with a few name changes)

If you wear the wrong name tag, most people won’t know the difference for at least an hour.
The group I hung out with in 1965 didn’t take drugs. Now, we all do.
All the girls who said they once had a crush on me should have mentioned this five decades ago.
“So, how have you been?” is a really stupid question to ask someone you haven’t seen in 50 years
People will remember stuff about you that even you don’t remember. This is not anything to be concerned about. I hope.
I hugged people I would never have hugged in 1965.
I swear there were three guys gobbling down the shrimp at the buffet table who were not in our class.

A few people thought I was Dick Wolf, who produced the hit show Law and Order, and that I had simply shortened my name from Wolfsie. I let them think they were right.

I told many of the women they looked great for 68. Larry Leventhal told them they looked great for 48. Guess who did better with the ladies in high school?
All the women at the reunion admitted to having a crush on the math teacher, Mr. Walsh. And so did two of the guys.
It was great see some old faces, although some of us had new faces over the old ones.
Despite a good cross-section of race and religion, we all had two things in common: Social Security and Medicare.
It was great to see Michael, although he’s Madeleine now.
Some people danced, but there wasn’t nearly as much making out on the dance floor as 50 years ago.
I am the only alumni now living in Indiana. Henry Rosenbloom lives in Ohio. If you knew Henry, you’d know that’s close enough.
After a few glasses of wine, a very youthful looking Francine admitted she got some “work” done before the reunion. Funny, in high school she never got any work done before class.
Half of the attendees thought the men aged better than the women. Guess which half thought that?
No one left the reunion intoxicated. But Chuck and Wally arrived that way.
A few people brought their old yearbook and wanted me to sign it. All I could think of to write was: “Good luck in college.”
I asked the class prom queen Cindy to let me know when it was 9 p.m. Just once, I wanted her to give me the time of day.
There was some talk at the reunion about sex in high school. Back in high school it was all talk. 
Carl Corvino no longer has a neck.
My prom date Yvonne gave me a big kiss hello. It wasn’t the first time we’d kissed in 50 years, it was the only time—and that includes the prom.
A lot of people said things to each other like, “We sure had fun together,” but it was hard for some of us to come up with specifics.
There was very little interest in forming a 75th reunion committee.
My friends in high school laughed at me 50 years ago when I said I would be a humor writer one day.  I gave a few classmates copies of my most recent book. Sadly, they’re not laughing now.

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Next week I head to New Rochelle, New York, for my 50thhigh school reunion.  My reunion is not just with old classmates, but also with my hometown, a mid-size suburban city just north of Manhattan—and the setting for the residence of Rob and Laura Petrie of the Dick Van Dyke Show.
I have been back to New Rochelle countless times, but primarily to see family. This time, I hope to:
…see my first New York baseball game in, yes, 50 years. In June of 1965, despite losing 70 games already that season, the Miracle Mets were only four years away from winning the World Series.  The Mets’ home, Shea Stadium, was torn down in 2008 and replaced by Citi Field.  Entering a major league park for the first time is always a thrill—just like the 100thtime.
…go back to Roosevelt Elementary School where I spent six years being reprimanded by teachers for my reprobate behavior. I’d like to sit in the principal’s office again, just as I did most days after school, except I’d probably be in someone’s bedroom. Roosevelt School was renovated into Roosevelt Condominiums about 20 years ago.
…go back to Walter’s Hot Dogs, a family-owned business that has been grilling franks in a small Chinese pagoda for almost 100 years. I’ll buy two hot dogs (on perfectly grilled buns with mustard relish) and tell the girl behind the register that I remember when the dogs were two for 45 cents. She’ll say “whatever,” and I’ll walk away feeling very, very old…until I take that first bite.
…go back to the pricey country club where I was a soda jerk. On Mondays they used to let the kitchen staff and caddies play golf, and that’s when I got my first hole-in-one back in 1965. I’ll tell the golf pro the story and ask if I can go back and play that hole again 50 years later. He’ll remind me that I’m not a member, and I’ll say “whatever,” and I’ll wish I had never stopped by.
…go back to the former site of Sickles Field, the small baseball diamond in downtown New Rochelle where we played Little League ball—where we wore woolen uniforms in 100-degree weather and were told not to drink water when we were hot because it would make us sick. The New York Daily News said I was the best Little League center fielder in the state. When I got to high school, I didn’t make the team. I hope no one remembers that at the reunion.
…and I hope I’ll see Larry, part of our inseparable friends trio. All of us aspired to be professional wrestlers. We dressed the part, rehearsed the body slams and gave performances on the beach, fake blood and all. Larry and I will talk about Steve, who passed away last month and will be remembered as the most courageous and inspirational member of the class. A football star in high school, he was recruited by Colgate University and during the first week of practice 50 years ago this week, was the victim of an unnecessary (and now illegal) head tackle. Steve spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. A successful attorney, devoted partner and father, he will be the talk of the reunion.
After the reunion, Larry and I will want to go back to our favorite pizza place to talk more about Steve.  Well, we would, but I think there’s a Walmart there now.
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