So there I was, sitting in my palatial radio station office, happy as a pig in mud amidst my stacks of junk (I refer to it as research), reading the comics page (I call it keeping up with what's going on in the world) and chilling some delicious Grain Belt Longnecks (I always make sure the door is closed when I do that...the Boss gets sooo per snickedy about that).

And that's when it happened, the telephone call from somewhere in that misty, foggy area we refer to as..."the past". A time traveling ring of the phone.

A deep voice on the other end of the line (assuming there was a 'line', probably not these days). "Hey, what's your mailing address?"

Uh, excuse me? Who is this??

"It's Phil".

As the conversation progressed, I set down the Longneck, realized it was a kid (kid? Yeah, aren't we all still kids with the people we grew up with?) I had graduated High School with.

I hadn't talked to Phil in a long, long time, so we did a little catching up on things. And then the bombshell. The reason he was calling. the gist of the matter, as it were, the bottom line.

We were having a 40th year Class Reunion this summer/fall and he was contacting some classmates to get the information out.

Huh? No, seriously, I mean....Huh??

After hanging up, twisting the top off a fresh cool one and putting my feet up on my desk (don't worry, the door is still closed), I muttered out loud "Whatever happened to 1973?"

It was just yesterday. You remember '73, don't you? It's all still so fresh!

There we were, roaming the halls of good 'ol Edgerton Public High School. Richard Nixon is President (Tricky Dickey if we wanted to sound cool). Just a couple months ago, he ended the hostilities in Viet Nam, or so they said on the news. LBJ died a few months ago too, and there was something about 'Roe v. Wade'.

I had just discovered a new artist last year. He had a cool name...Kris Kristofferson...and I had both his albums. And you remember, we all loved Jim Croce! Now, that guy is going to have one hell of a career...he'll end up in the Hall of Fame, no doubt about that!

I'm going to live in Missouri this summer, my brother is down there, just got out of the Air Force and is living in Warrensburg, down not far from Whiteman AFB. Then I'm coming back up and going to a broadcasting course at the Austin Mn. Vo-Tech.

I sure hope I can get a job in radio. Not sure if it'll work out or if I'll be worth a toot at it, but it'll be an adventure.

Oh, and did you read the latest? Sounds like Nixon is in some trouble! But he's the President, he'll get out of it.
And then a buzz. The phone. It's the Boss asking what in the heck am I doing in here with the door closed all day??

Uh. Uh. "Research for the show, Boss."

It really hasn't been 40 years has it? 40 years since about 30 of us walked across the stage and got our H.S. diploma? Some receiving honors, others (yes, me) wondering how we made it through. We couldn't wait to get out of there. Now, it's nice to go back.

But no, it hasn't been 40 years. Impossible. In fact, I'm going to ask my 34 year old son and 30 year old daughter about that. And if they can't answer, I'll go right to my 5 Grand Kids.