Still young at heart

How could you possibly dislike a woman who introduces herself by making sure you know she never dated your husband?

So went my introduction to Kirstie, a lovely classmate of Basil’s I met last night at the first of a weekend’s worth of reunion activities for the GHS Class of ’73. Here’s a picture of Basil from back then:

Basil, with his mom, Dena, the night of his senior prom in 1973. I’m not sure what I like more: the sideburns, the unfortunate choice of tux or the frilly shirt underneath it!

We gathered for dinner with Basil’s circle of closest school chums. It was a terrific evening — so nice to visit again with a couple of folks I met back at the 30th reunion and to meet a few others.

Mostly, it was fun to put faces with the stories I’ve heard over the years — finally getting to shake the hand of Jeff, whose habit of “forgetting” his wallet is legend around our dinner table (I do not know if he forgot it last night; I had to slip out early to pick Catherine up from work).

Despite not seeing each other for a long time, they remain a tight-knit group. I loved hearing about what the town was like 40 years ago and the antics they had pulled. Whose parents were kinda of scary, who got around more then they should, whose playroom saw more grownup action in later years. … All these years later, they suspect there are cases of beer still buried at the beach — hidden so well from the grownups that even the kids couldn’t find them. I half expected them to get up from the table, break out shovels and head to Tod’s Point to start hunting.

Some of the gang last night.

It has been great fun these past few weeks to watch Basil get increasingly excited about the reunion; some of the people in town this weekend he hasn’t seen since graduation day. As a rule, he’s pretty stoic about things — someone last night remembered him hanging back, quietly observing. He always tells me that he tries not to get excited about things lest he be disappointed.

But as the weekend neared, his excitement has been palpable. He talked on and on about who was coming and who couldn’t make it, showing me Facebook profiles of some of the folks he’d connected with.

He got a haircut. (And don’t tell him I told you, but he went for his first manicure!)

Yesterday, in the midst of a family emergency we were tending to, Kirstie called to say they’d arrived. Basil’s face lit up like a Christmas tree as he took the call.

This afternoon, the class is sailing the Long Island Sound. Later on is a dinner dance where I’ll get to meet more of his contemporaries.

Wonder how many of the women will introduce themselves as Basil’s ex-girlfriends. ….