Coffee with friends today; they came for homecoming and tired of it quickly. And why wouldn’t they? From what I’ve observed of it, it’s as boring as staring at your roommate while he sleeps. You spend eighty or so bucks (not counting hotel) to come to the campus and attend a few basketball games, a homecoming court you don’t know, various undercooked luncheons, over-long alumni meetings, and speeches. Yeah, that’s what good ol’ Bethany makes us nostalgic for—meetings and speeches. Guess we didn’t get enough classes or hear enough in chapel.
Anyway, they tired of it because it consisted of—their words—“a lot of old people.” That’s true; I saw a lot of old people here and there at various alumni functions. The reunions were, after all, for the people who graduated 10 years ago, 20 years ago, 30 years… by your 30-year reunion you’re getting up there. This would be my seventh if they had one. (I’m old, you know.)
So we went to Starbucks, where we only saw two or three old people, and I got to share disturbing stories about inappropriately dressed people in public places, dressing one’s pets, Stephen King’s odd behavior, sheep mating habits, where dolphins have hair, the Titan space probe, and why it’s fun to be a teacher.
Just like old times.