Friday, May 15, 2015

Flashback Friday




Graduation season is here.  Just discovered these two pictures of my high school graduation.  By the way, I guess posed pictures have their place in family albums, but generally speaking, if given the opportunity, pictures that are unstaged are usually the best.  With me is the Wombie, of course, on the right and situated in between is Barb Seaton.  She was one of the Seaton gang and graduated with us.  This was taken in our dining room.  There is that blue glass piece that I continue to look for in antique shops on the left.  If I'm not mistaken, that was in my possession at one time and met its demise by a cat.  Reason #1,234,654 to hate the little darlings.    



Propped on the organ bench is my diploma along with a Schlitz can.  I'm not sure what a can of beer and my diploma signifies, since I wouldn't be legal for alcohol for another few years.  Legality aside obtaining beer was no problem back in those days.  It was who you knew and certain doctored drivers license that I still have in my possession.  Besides,  I never did anything illegal or untoward when I was in high school.  Did I?

Barb was a Seaton and having your family found the town made them village VIP's.  John, her dad, was the Mr. Potter of the town but in a nice way.  John and Doris were pretty cool and of course the other kids, Terry and Bill were OK, too.  Doris is still alive and in the Cities someplace, as is Barb and her family.  When Doris left Seaton a few years ago it marked the first time, ever, that there was no Seaton in Seaton.      

High school graduation was a stepping stone along the path to adulthood.  We were all unfinished vessels at that age.  It's sad when I hear of people who never return to their reunions, not even once.  Some kind of unresolved bitterness toward classmates or events prevent them from placing those days in proper context.  To judge us at that point in our lives is like judging humanity at the point we all slimed our way onto the shore for the first time.  Whatever hurts, whatever embarrassments, whatever pain suffered in high school shouldn't ride your shoulders for a lifetime.  If you bullied, make amends.  If someone bullied you, seek them out and ask for an apology.  Or maybe better yet, just move on.  Luckily we didn't have too much of a problem - bro Phil was a senior when the Wombie and I were freshman, and being part of the Seaton gang provided a certain cover.  But whatever slights I did receive have all long ago been forgotten and replaced by more important, more relevant events.  



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