OK, so I'm off for four days. I'm going to my 40th high school reunion. Do the math quickly and you'll get my age.
Forty years ago when I graduated from high school, JFK (search) had just been shot and killed. We hadn't landed on the Moon yet. The Summer of Love was still in the future and the Vietnam War (search) was just starting to bubble.
We're still paying for all that stuff aren't we?
Frankly, I'm amazed that I've seen things in my life firsthand that people ask me if I saw on reruns on TV.
I'm old enough that when asked if I've seen the latest Oliver Stone movie I can say, “No, I lived through it the first time and I actually remember what happened and don't need to be told it was different.”
But that isn't the main reason I'm going to this reunion. I must admit to an almost morbid curiosity about going to this thing.
One of the producers here at FOX said to me, “I wonder how many are still alive.” And I said that's why I'm going.
A couple didn't make it past graduation. One, I know, died right after we renewed our friendship after the 20th reunion.
And we're getting to the age when people don't make it. They have heart attacks. I got thrown from a horse that could have killed me, but luckily didn't.
It's interesting to see who the survivors are 40 years down the road.
So I hope the survivors show up so we can all congratulate ourselves and hope we make it to the next one.
That's My Word.
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