This past weekend was nothing other than that, fun in our 'little town'. With a Saturday "All School" reunion planned on the Square - footsteps happened in many different ways.
Airport parking lots, escalators, people movers, jetways - money, time, all to once again plant footsteps 'back home,' or, for many, as the years elsewhere add up, what once was home.
Footsteps to the bank to get dough, drive to QT, pay outrageous gas prices to drive across the land to see ones from yesterday.
Many (different ages, classes of school) gathered Friday night in advance of the All School thingy. The eyeballs, at this age, squint when trying to read small print, which, is fancy for "Good Lord I hope I can read the name on their name tag so I ain't embarrassed because it's been so many years and I don't recognize them." And it happened for many of us, ok, all of us.
Bless those that look virtually the same. We don't hate you - we're happy for you! Footsteps happened at various speeds, oft times due simply us all aging, and, many many 'miles on the car'... Some trudged alone. Some moved lickity split like they'd taken that Chicken Fat 45 record to heart and exercised all their life. Some, partnered, luckily had someone to lean on as they footstepped down the hill, between the aisles.
It can be, and is somewhat shocking to go so many years without seeing someone - then, without either gasping, recognize there's a story to tell of a life that's been lived.
In my work at a public place, I've been fortunate to come across quite a few from "back in the day, friends of old." After some quick 'hey, so good to see you, how ya been" chat, it's then asked "Are you coming to the reunion?" Some said "Nah...." and that's all good - not all footsteps think alike, and it must be acknowledged we either loved our footsteps together back in the day, or, we didn't, or, we're indifferent on the matter. Innie, outtie, Repub, Dem, socialite, retiring, solitary, which-way-to-the-party, yada. And that's all good. Then, it's certain there's a category that couldn't attend due to health, prior commitments, ie, or simple life things got in the way - but, they very much wanted to join the footsteps.
As Saturday came upon us - I got to the Square early, parked my car on the hill, first spot to eyeball the activity on the Square. Rain happened. Footsteps went pitter patter puddle, or, home.
As I switched from Facebook, to eyeballing the actual Square, to the Accuweather radar app, one from a prior class posted "What’s a little bit of rain, when you are among old friends! Dress for the weather-bring a chair and join us on the Square. 4-10."
I guess many did... Footsteps from under the umbrella, seeking the safe haven of an awning, the inside of a restaurant on the Square - all, sandwiched around encounters with friends of old. It's a shame the rain came - but life's all about Plan B.
Radar kept indicating "not tonight folks", so, rather than drive across town to go to 'round 2' our my own specific class of schoolmates - I was tired, four blocks from home, so, I drove to 3 blocks from home to The Corner Bar. The intent, kinda sorta, of the "All School Reunion" is to not only see folks from your own class, but, the punky frosh, sophs, jrs, when we were Seniors, and, vice versa. A dreamy format. The Corner Bar. Footsteps had happened to the inside, all different ages, all lovers of Liberty, many soaked, maybe one or two sauced, wall to wall people. Narrow aisles meant, if you had to pee, it'll take a lot less time to go out the front door, go in the back door, presto, you're at the restroom (versus being a fullback trying to go thru the B-gap to make it in time to pee.)
A good thing there was such a crowd. Even a few from the same HS Class opted for the Corner. It was literally yesterday - today. The Corner bar, can, get a bad rap. Unwarranted basically. It's a homey, fun little place where folks "take their troubles down to Madam Ruth, you know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth" or whomever the bartender is for the specific night. Hence, troubles, like umbrellas, are checked at the door, maybe a sip of Love Potion #9, camaraderie, relaxation happens, it's all yummy.
In two nights time, so many people, not enough hours to say what ya wanted to say to who, but even if only a brief check-in - it was loved, appreciated.
At our age, as the teeter totters and we walk out the door to go home, we're left with the thought "Could this be our last gathered footsteps?" Certainly hope not, but, if so - what fun!
Thanks to those who put in the extra footsteps to come, travel from afar. We hope you enjoyed and we hope to see you again. To those of us that still call 64068 home, darn us! We need to make footsteps together more frequently!
"There's a magical tie to the land of our home, which the heart cannot break, though the footsteps may roam." Eliza Cook
You tell 'em Eliza... I'll pat ma' foot and cross my arms! Thank you thank you thank you for all of your footsteps to make this past weekend memorable and fun. What better to look through the eyeballs at 70 and see 17.
Love, Victurd
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