We’re really not turning 70, are we? Certainly not. We’re only 18 (with 52 years of experience). Our classmate, Ruthie, ushers in the new decade with a cake for all 15 of us.
The girls of the West Point High School of ’65 (at least the ones close or determined enough to come) celebrated their entry into another decade last week. I would have posted sooner, but its taken me this long to recover.
I couldn’t help but recall our 16th birthday party when our parents got together to throw us a big dance at the Henry Clay Hotel – in the Safari Room. We danced the nite away under the watchful eyes of our folks.
At the 70th party we danced again and got a little wild since our parents are no longer around to keep us in line. With no rules or expectations, I’m betting this could be one fabulous year.
My girls have a love/hate relationship with getting older. The flipside of younger is not half bad as long as we have good folks to do it with. We do. Old age isn’t something one gets to practice and this is the first time we’ve been this old so a little practicing has begun.
We’ve decided its payback time for all those younger generations that make fun of us. From now on we’ll be driving around town at 20 MPH with our left turn signal blinking incessantly. And we’ll pull up to the prescription line at CVS and order cokes and fries. We’ll not be exercising because it makes the wine slosh right out of the glass. But most of all, we’ll not miss an opportunity to laugh because the only wasted day is one without laughter,
Among our girls reaching the milestone year in January were from left Betty Lynn Webber Cameron, Ann Edwards Gatlin, Norma Clark Atkins, and Sandra Jennings Boykin. Okay girls, we’re looking up to you, our elders, for direction as we work on getting this aging thing perfected.
