On This Date in 1998

Dear Chris,

Whether you like it or not, I keep coming back at-cha, year after year, one unsolicited Christmas greeting after another. You are one of a trio of people from the UB era of my life that I’m still in touch with, the others being Tony Szczygiel, the Colden Kid, and Michael Kanter, our Cambridge Massachusetts health food entrepreneur. Everyone else has fallen off the face of my earth. Remember Ralph Pearson? Jane Moy? Al Marmulstein? Eric Barr? There’s a lot of other faces I remember but too many names I can’t recall. Every once in awhile, I fantasize about an Allenhurst 1968-1970 block party reunion. But would I actually attend? This year I skipped by 30th high school reunion. The reason: Andy, our older son, was playing in a baseball tournament that weekend. Couldn’t get away. As it turned out, Andy and his teammates provided much better entertainment with their gutsy third place finish.

Are you eating your Flutie Flakes for breakfast every morning? Who’da thought that Mr. Hail Mary could bring back the Bills from the dead. Tomorrow I’m going to be rooting for them to pound the Jets deep into the ground. The Packers haven’t given us a whole lot to cheer about this year. The Wisconsin consensus is that Brett Favre was hungover during the first three quarters of the game against Tampa Bay. Our favorite colors right now are not green and gold. We’re now the ladies and gents in red. Go Badgers! My Rose Bowl prediction: Wisconsin 24, UCLA 7. It seems like the Pac 10 hasn’t been focusing on defense this season.

I heard this song tonight that instantly transported me back to our freshman year in college. JoAnna and I were on our way to a party, and she had tuned the radio to an oldies station, one that plays tunes primarily from the years 1964-1968. It was an instrumental, “Soulful Strut” by the Youngholt Unlimited. All these memories having to do with 482 and Norton and Diefendorf and Hayes Hall cascaded over my brain. It was a moment that was difficult to share with my wife since she was in kindergarten at the time. As one of my best friends blurted out minutes after meeting JoAnna, “Gee, Nellie, you really did rob the cradle!”

Obviously, this is not your typical Christmas letter. It’s an original. It’s spontaneous. Some might even say it’s an upchuck kind of experience. What it says is that I still think about you and our circle of friends and acquaintances after all these years. A reunion would really be an interesting experience.

On This Date in 1998

Dear Eric and Sally,

We do actually spend some time at home. The two times you called you reached our voice mail, and I meant to call back promptly if for nothing else than just to chat.

We dispensed with the one-size-fits-all letter format this year. Instead, as if I’m living a life of leisure, I assigned myself the duty of enclosing a personal note in each card without trying to repeat myself too often. That didn’t work with the relatives, on both sides of the family. My longhand notes informed them that we’ll be in Two Rivers for the first week of Christmas break and Warren during the second week and not much more. As I moved toward the heart of our Christmas card list, to the names of special friends, I decided to sit in front of the computer and just share whatever’s on my mind.

I talked with Paul Stearns last night. He’s living in the Eagle River area, working for the Commissioner of Public Lands. He’s developed a long-distance relationship with Sarah, who lives in Milwaukee. They were supposed to get married this year but postponed the ceremony since they couldn’t work out the details of a practical living arrangement. \

I spent an evening with LeRoy and Patsy Stahle this summer. I scheduled the June meeting of the Wisconsin Library Association board of directors, of which I was president this year, at the Oshkosh Public Library. They are both doing great, enjoying retirement, keeping busy. LeRoy looked like a Native American he was so dark from playing golf every day. What a life! (Only 15 years until my retirement. And, no, I’m not counting.)

As for the Schnozz, I haven’t heard from Pat and Vicki in over a year. When I read in some library publication that he had accepted the directorship of the Pikes Peak Library System in Colorado Springs last November (1997), I gave him a call and we chatted for a half hour or so. Up to that point, he had been doing a lot of consulting as well as guiding a successful building project to completion. I think they have two kids now. Actually, you may know more about them than I do. 

After five years of hanging upside down in the garage, the bicycles that JoAnna and I use were finally taken down off their storage hooks. Naturally, they both needed major tune-ups before being roadworthy. So how many rides did JoAnna and I take together this summer? Zero. Andy and I took a couple of short rides, but otherwise, the bikes leaned on their kickstands until last weekend when I returned them to their hooks. And when I think back on all the bicycling I used to do. Eric, I still consider our bike trip through parts of Wisconsin and Michigan to be one of the highlights of the 1980s. I hope that it won’t turn out to be the one and only two-wheeled excursion of my life. 

I’ll save more of the family stuff for a phone call. Stayed tuned.

On This Date in 1998

Dear Tina,

So did you head east to Warren, midsummer, for our 30th high school reunion? At the beginning of the year it was on a list of events I wanted to incorporate into my 1998 schedule. I was actually looking forward to it, somewhat of a surprise considering my rather lukewarm experiences at our 5th and 20th editions. I even imagined conversations with certain classmates: Gail Benson, Bill McGuckin, Melissa Vought. Don’t ask me why those names floated into my head.

Andy’s baseball schedule clarified our summer plans. He had a tournament scheduled for the last weekend of July, which, of course, coincided with our reunion. As it turned out, the boys and I were in Warren the following weekend, JoAnna’s ultimately successful efforts in reclaiming the state senate for the Democrats the reason for her staying home. (She’s the director of the state senate Democratic caucus.)

Once I realized I wouldn’t be attending the reunion, I wanted to get my hands on the booklet the planning committee prepares. I procrastinated for weeks, telling myself to write Rick Dies a letter. I had heard from my sister-in-law that attendance was below expectations. There’s gotta be some extra copies in someone’s closet, I figured. Guess what I received from Rick Dies one day in the mail in late August? Yes, the coveted booklet. I studied it carefully, eager to know who has grandchildren, who’s living the deluxe lifestyle, who doesn’t seem to have changed a bit since 1968. What really bowled me over – and this observation will give you an indication of just how carefully I reviewed the contents – is how many of our classmates still live in the Warren area. It’s easily more than 50%. I have to admit that I have come to appreciate Warren a lot more than I did in high school – its history, its architecture, its foothills setting – but I can’t imagine myself ever living there. During the 20 years I’ve lived in Wisconsin, I’ve become a tried-and-true Midwesterner, even though my Packer allegiance is still pretty weak.

What a strange Christmas letter, you must be thinking. Admittedly, it’s very self-indulgent, but it is inspired by you, Tina. I think it would be fun to talk on the phone some evening and catch up on each other’s life. Mine has been very good. JoAnna and I have a wonderful relationship and, as you can see from the enclosed photograph, we have two handsome boys who add so much to our lives. I hate to end this letter on a downbeat note, but I find that Mike (Foster) regularly walks through my thoughts. The last time I talked to him was in 1975, when he confessed to me that he way gay, a fact that I had been aware of, in an unspoken way, since the summer after high school.

I still miss him after all these years. In spite of all his idiosyncrasies and his high-maintenance personality, he was a wonderful friend.

I send along my sincere best wishes for the new year.