From: John Freeman [johnfree@pacbell.net]

Sent: Monday, October 16, 2000 10:42 PM

Subject: Binghamton - Newton - Reunion

 

Thursday Oct 5� Binghamton - Albany - Cambridge - Newton

 

The day looked bright and sunny from the few rays that snuck around my Motel 8 curtains into my room, but when I peeked outside it was dreary and wet :(

 

So I drove 200 feet down the pike for an uninspired breakfast served by an uninspired waitress amid a groggy bunch of sniffing, coughing, smoking denizens of the east coast megapolis.� I think I'm not the only one bummed about the rain.� Oh well, time to put on my game face and drive to Boston.�

 

Now it's raining pretty heavily and immediately after I merged onto I-88 a WIDE LOAD trailer carrying half a house to somewhere in a damned hurry crawled up my ass and made things pretty uncomfortable for the first few miles.� I'd forgotten what a sweaty tense experience freeway driving in the rain can be.� Those double semis throw up a helluva lot of water. But soon the traffic thinned out and the rain slacked off and the driving became quite pleasant, headed northeast up a beautiful wide river valley, with the proverbial riot of fall colors fading into the misty distance.

 

Drove through suburban Albany to avoid a few miles of NY Thruway tolls (cheep, cheep :), then drove up about 8 miles of the beautiful Hudson River valley to catch SR 2 at Troy, NY.� I had a flashback of spending a couple of days with some hippie freaks (hey wait a minute, I was a hippy freak too back then!) on a farm outside of Troy back in the late 60's, but have not been able to dredge up who they were, why I knew them or anything other than that it happened.� I guess it's true that if you think you remember the 60's then you weren't there :)

 

Good punk station in Troy that lasted about 50 miles -- bonus!!�

 

Then it was back to pleasant two lane roads through quaint little towns all the way until I entered the greater Boston force field.� It got dark, the roads got crowded, and the rain got heavy again, more or less all at once.

 

I knew that I had arrived in New England when I hit my first rotary.� For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, the rotary is a quaint New England device where you manage traffic not with stop signs or stop lights, but rather by putting a statue in the middle of the intersection and letting everyone blast around the statue in a counter-clockwise direction until they are able to get off.� So, for instance, to go straight, you must first filter into the stream of maniacs already in the rotary coming at you from the left, then as soon as you've done that, it's "eyes right!", to pick you way through the lunatics coming at you from the road on your right so you may escape the rotary to continue straight.� They are a pure Darwinian test of wills and strategy, and I love 'em!� In a truck in the rain it wasn't quite as much fun as it used to be in my old Toyota Corona, but I think I was still able to represent -- that is, to project that air of crazed indifference that spells rotary success.

 

I surprised myself by making it all the way to the Charles Hotel parking garage without getting lost or turned around or even making a wrong turn.� Then it was time to do the Reunion thing.

 

 

Just to make sure everybody is up to date here, the other half of the nominal reason for taking this trip was to go to my 30th Harvard College Reunion.� Yes, I know, sometimes it doesn't seem to me like I could have gone to Harvard either, but they admitted me and I went, so there you have it!

 

I've always been kind of a sucker for reunions.� I attended I think, years 5, 10, 20, and 25, as well as maybe three high school reunions.� Objectively speaking, I would say that a person who has gone to that many reunions needs to get a life, but hey, that's what I did, so there you have it again.

 

 

Registration was the usual ritual -- declare your name at a desk manned by cheerful students, who find a packet containing your name tag (so you can walk around campus labeled as a complete dork), event tickets, various lists, maps, and schedules as well as whatever booty the organizers have decided to toss in.� The booty comprised a carrying bag suitable for lugging a laptop around, and a baseball hat.� Both are pretty reasonable booty except for the "HR 70" stitched in crimson thread in each.

 

There was a list of all the attendees, and it was a pretty disappointing list from my p.o.v.� There were a few people I know, and even a few that I like, but nobody that would classify as a close friend or as someone that I would have more than ten minutes worth of catching up with to do.

 

So I hung around and drank a couple of their expensive free beers and ate a sandwich and greeted the four people I recognized and trundled myself off to Newton to find my friend Dave's apt.

 

Dave is also Harvard '70, and is obviously smarter than me since he didn't register for the reunion.� His clever plan was to wait for my report to see if it was worth doing.� My report and the sign-up list confirmed him in his plan to continue his regularly scheduled life without the reunion.

 

 

Friday, Reunion Day

 

I had thought that the 0 check I had mailed in bought me the whole reunion, but au contraire, it bought me only the first day and a half! (hence my crack about the expensive free beers)� For a mere 0 more I could get an additional lunch, dinner, and goodbye Sunday brunch, but given my lack of excitement about what I ahd seen of the reunion product so far, I decided to just say no.� So today and tonight IS my reunion.

 

True to the navel-gazing aspect of these events, there was an afternoon seminar where we all got together to talk about ... us!� I recreated my college days by coming in late and reading the materials instead of paying attention to what was going on.�

 

Later I realized that this was where I blew my best chance to "engage" the event instead of skulking around the edge:� I mean here are all these successful and important people spilling their guts, whining about not having relaxed enough in their lives, not enjoying the moment, not having any clue what they'll do when they don't do their jobs anymore (i.e. retire).� And here I am with stuff to say on these issues that would probably be interesting to my more tightly wired colleagues.� I could have introduced myself to all as the guy who blew off his job for six weeks to drive there, and would have no doubt had a more interesting reunion for it.� Oh well...

 

Afterwards there was time to wander Harvard Square and see what stores have gone out of business or opened since I was last here.

 

Then I walked the mile or so across the Charles River to my beautiful truck in the Biz School parking lot to change into my "business casual" attire, as mandated in the program for tonight's gala event.� I took that to mean wear a tie.� The last time I wore a tie was last Halloween, but I had packed a dress shirt and tie cross-country for just this event!

 

The gala event is at the Boston Aquarium, which turned out to be a great choice for me.�� I could watch the interesting fishies and penguins and toads and squids when I ran out of desire to talk to Harvies.

 

 

Saturday and Sunday -- chillin' in Newton

 

Dave's daughter was in a soccer tournament this weekend, and it rurns out that her team is the terror of the eleven-year-old set, which meant they won all their games, which meant Dave was gone all day Saturday and Sunday.� Which meant that I had a delightful time hanging out: fiddling on Dave's internet connection and taking walks around Newton, and generally recharging the ole batteries.

 

Unless I have another bad attack of FMS (Fear of Missing Something), this might be the last reunion for me.� The people showing up have devolved into a hardy group of reunion regulars, most of whom live in the greater� Boston area, and who seem to know each other pretty well.

 

Everyone was nice, everyone was pretty pleased with themselves.� Of course, those are the folks that would show up.� Those who are depressed or poor or not feeling nice or are just plain pissed off aren't likely to be into the reunion thing, so it seems to have turned into a kind of bland love-fest.