Had dinner tonight with my friend, Eileen, who I’ve known since junior high school.
I believe we first met in Miss Jewett’s music appreciation class (where I learned that “Mozart” is spelled with only one “t”). We were in many other classes together as well, particularly band (she played French horn).
As I started to write this I realized that we met in 1968. Amazing!
It was a crazy time but we were too young to really comprehend all the big changes that were going on around us. Riots in Berkeley and SF State University were something one saw on the news. The Summer of Love meant T-shirts with hearts and stylized daisies. Oh, and incense purchased on a field trip to San Francisco!
We were young and innocent in a way that really wouldn’t be possible today. We went to school; worried about whether boys would ever like us; and got good grades.
The only way to see a movie was in the theater. Phones stayed at home, connected to the wall by cords. We used encyclopedias for research; checked out books from the library; and wrote everything longhand.
We also thought the whole “drug” thing was greatly exaggerated. After all, we never saw any drugs.
And now — all of a sudden, it seems — we’re discussing whether to go to our 50th high school reunion. How is that even possible? 🤷♀️
