My 30th high school reunion is coming up. My former classmates, who are planning the gala celebration, are, quite frankly, a bunch of losers. Perhaps after the next move, hopefully, they'll stop finding me and sending me invitations to their reunions.
I can not believe some of the exciting activities they have planned.
Friday night they are going to meet at, well, this place is hard to describe, but let's call it a drive-in-beer-selling-liquor-store-dump. Back in the days it was where high school kids went to get beer, when the drinking age was 18. You pulled up to the loading dock and ordered. It was a dump then and certainly couldn't have improved with age. Oh! Thinking of sitting in or on top of your car in front of a loading dock makes your toes tingle, doesn't it?
For Saturday they have lined up tours of the old and new high schools - and at no cost! Saturday afternoon you can either play 9 holes of golf or go to a wine tasting event at some bar. That night they will meet for an informal social at a restaurant where they will provide hors d'oeuvres but "meals are on your own." Oh, yes, glad you asked! This is another opportunity for drinking!
If they had just stuck with the Saturday events, it wouldn't look so sad, but no, the main event is on Sunday.
It all culminates with a picnic on a beach at noon on Sunday. They'll provide "burgers and utensils" but you have to BYOB. This is the first time the picnic isn't simply a glorified kegger. In the past they provided the beer for the picnic and told those attending to bring everything else, including drinks for the kids. Oh, and the beach? Don't think a glorious sandy beach with palm trees swaying in the breeze. Think muddy side of a lake with a distinct fishy smell near a place that sells bait, beer, and gas for your boat.
This just makes you want to yell, "Honey, grab the camera we need to hit the road!"