I’m about to see a bunch of eighteen year old kids that I haven’t seen in forty years. I happened to be eighteen as well. Reagan was still the president and Mtv was still decent.
Time to go catch up with the Class of ‘84… I never did open up ShepProductions like I promised. No Van Halen stories or tours with Oingo Boingo.
I’m not bringing a hot wife with me and I’m not wearing a Rolex to the banquet. I might talk about the trading floor and how I once lived in Camelot.
Everyone I see these next forty-eight hours knew a kid named Shep who moved down from Chicago. Nobody knows Jumbo from the Bond Room.
At this point we are all a bunch of fifty-eight year old kids that don’t have anything to hide. Our chins aren’t pointy and our bellies are bigger.
It is class reunion time…. those forty years sure as fuck blew by quickly.
Dear Old Cathedral, here's to you
Here's to your colors, gold and blue,
We'll cheer you onward everyone,
Whether the battle is lost or won,
So here's to your sons,
Your fighting team
Let your banners stream,
And we will proudly wave
them to the sky
As we cheer for Cathedral High.
I’m about ready to be astonished this weekend.
