Blue Book Special

This has never appeared anywhere in print.

Sorry, Constant Readers. No column this week due to unavailability.

I crashed the Class of 1978’s 30th reunion at Earlham College, at which a fine time was had by all, except those of us who were held captive for 45 insufferable minutes by the college president, whose name I promise I will never remember, not only because he tried to shame us into giving the school free range over our checkbooks and retirement funds and those of our children and our children’s children during a fundraising pitch, but also because at a reception later in the day he introduced himself to me not once but twice, obviously having forgotten my name or face in the intervening five minutes between our first and (hopefully) last encounters.

The highlight of the weekend (for me, that is, not for anyone else) came when I was walking into the decorated gymnasium, with its grainy black and white photos of Mike O’Rourke in his soccer shorts for said luncheon and felt someone grab my elbow. Turning, I was greeted by a 50-ish woman in a red dress who said, “Michael Rellahan, it is such a pleasure to read your columns every week in the Daily Local.” She was a West Chester person and apparently recognized me from the photo that goes with the Sunday column. Either that or she’s seen my mug on the Post Office wall, in its semi-permanent frame under the heading, “Parking Ticket Scofflaws.”

I didn’t tell anyone because (1) I was too startled to know that I cannot escape from my own fame, (b) no one I was with would believe me anyway and, (iii) I wanted to keep it a secret until I could share it with you, my Constant Readers.

So here is what we would call on the second floor of Carpenter Hall an “essay test.” “What would be the biggest thrill for you at your 30th reunion, depending on whether you have/or have had, one?” Give examples. Show work.

Until next week.