Reaching this life milestone is a little unreal

May 27, 2022 | G. Michael Dobbs
news@thereminder.com

Okay, I have a double whammy coming up: a birthday and a milestone.

I’m increasingly used to the fact I am way over the line of being a senior citizen. A good test for this fact is acknowledging I have no idea who the musical guests are on “Saturday Night Live.”

I would say that condition has existed for maybe 20 years.

Being out of touch with the nuances of popular culture – “who are these people?” I frequently ask my TV – is just one of the signs of growing older.

I’m not just ready to cash in my chips, so I better accept the implications of another birthday.

The other event though is sort of a shock: the 50th anniversary of my high school graduation.

What a short – seems short now – trip it has been.

In 1972, I couldn’t even attempt to understand what the future had in store for me. I knew I would be going to UMass. I knew I would be majoring in English/Journalism. I knew I would be commuting and living at home to help on the farm. I knew I would continue my part-time job at the Basketball of Fame.

That was about it. The future just seemed so very far away and out of focus.

I graduated from Granby (MA) Junior-Senior High School in a class of 107 people.

The graduation came after all of us had served an internship during the month of May. I was at the Holyoke Transcript-Telegram re-writing press releases. It was a significant event in my life, further underscoring what I wanted to pursue as an adult.

Our graduation was conducted on the front lawn of the high school on a pleasant June evening. Our graduation speaker was the sitting congressman, the legendary Silvio O. Conte. On graduation day, Conte was flying to Bradley Airport from Washington, DC, and our assistant principal, Dave Hyatt, was charged with picking him up and bringing him to Granby.

As the time drew closer for the ceremony, there was no Dave Hyatt and no congressman. Our principal held the event back, but finally had to start it.

The ceremony was in full swing when we all spotted a convertible hurtling down Route 202 in front of the high school. It was Dave Hyatt and the congressman in Hyatt’s car. Hyatt entered the driveway and made a sharp turn cutting across the lawn.

It was pretty dramatic, to say the least.

I can’t recall if Conte was shaken by Hyatt’s driving, and I wonder now what the vice principal and Conte discussed in the trip from the airport.

I have no memory of what Conte said to us. I’m sure it was the sort of wisdom that is usually dispensed at a graduation.

There has been no mention that I can see about any sort of reunion. I’m friends with several of my classmates on social media, several of whom make sure I know they don’t approve of my politics.

I wouldn’t mind raising a glass with them, though. Perhaps we could exchange notes on how our lives have gone, as opposed to how we thought they would go.

For me, I have few complaints. I could have taken another path, but there is no point speculating on decisions that weren’t made. I’ve been very lucky to have been able to do the things I’ve done and to have had the life that I’ve had.

I’m very grateful for that.

I think I may drive out to the high school one day this month and go past the house my family lived in for 20 years, just for the sake of nostalgia.

Congratulations to the Class of 1972.

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