Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Same As It Ever Was

With Joe in the hospital acquainting himself with his new knee this weekend, the Missus and I did not escape to our little Paradise by the LC.  Apparently, we were among the small handful of people who did not spend at least a portion of the weekend in the greater Belmar metroplex.  It is not everyday that one sees the Mayor of a municipality tell people that they cannot come into his town because it is filled to capacity.  Yet, Mayor Doherty of Belmar made just such a declaration on Sunday.  I am probably the only person whose mind - upon reading His Honor's directive - immediately flashed to the late, great John Candy in National Lampoon's Vacation.  "The moose out front should have told you."  Damn moose.  

Sunday morning, rather than run along the ocean, which is a delightful habit it took me exactly no time at all with which to become familiar, I ran through the streets of Middlesex, Bound Brook, and Bridgewater.  I ran past a number of homes whose front lawns and front walkways were adorned with signs identifying the residence as the home of a member of one high school or another's graduating class.  

It occurred to me as I ran past the "Class of 2015" signs that this year marks the 30th anniversary of my own graduation from high school.  The only specific memory I have of that day - and it is a great one - took place prior to the ceremony itself.  Our class was assembled and seated on the bleachers in the gymnasium preparing to walk out to the front soccer field, which back in the day was where W-H's graduation ceremony occurred.  Em stood up and declared, "Graduation Party at my house!", in response to which her fellow members of the Class of '85 cheered.  I know I cheered.  I presume that the rest of the crowd followed suit.  

There are times when I have no idea where thirty years have gone.  And then there are times when I look at the face staring back at me in the bathroom mirror at three-something o'clock every morning and I can trace the passage of time through the lines on my face and the graying of my temples. These thirty years have gone where time always go, into the development of the personal history that moves me along this continuum of indeterminate length from its beginning to its end, whenever and wherever that may occur.  

Just as, in time, it shall do likewise for the Class of 2015.  And time?  Time isn't holding us.  Time isn't after us...


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