The big day is almost upon us. In two days we will be celebrating our 60 year high school reunion. One of my out of town classmates arrived today and is staying with me. Tomorrow we will be having brunch with five classmates (kind of a mini pre-reunion). Then I will spend a big part of the afternoon having a manicure and pedicure and haircut. Of course, none of these procedures will make me look one day younger, but hope springs eternal. My only consolation is that everyone in my class is about my age so they probably won't look much younger. If they do, I will want to know their secret, or meet their plastic surgeon. Happily for all of us, we have had reunions regularly every five years, so we're only looking at five more years of aging here, not the full 60 years, unless of course, you're one of the very few who are coming back this year for the first time in 60 years. What a shock to their system this will be. My real puzzle though is how I ended up accidental treasurer and secretary of this group. I was never a class officer, I was never one of the cool kids, I had a few friends but I was never 'popular.' And I was shy and geeky. I have had a committee of four others helping me this year, but I wrote and mailed the invitations, I've deposited all their checks, I hired the caterer, another committee member and I bought the decorations. I rented the community center, and have the secret code to get in. Saturday morning I will be one of a few coming early to set up tables and decorate. A couple of the ladies have volunteered their strong husbands to help set up the tables. But when 11am comes around and people start arriving for our lunch time reunion (none of us wants to drive after dark) it will all have been worth it, I think. Of course, if anything goes wrong, I'll blame it on the other committee members. They were the cheerleaders and popular ones.
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