A Class Reunion on Bastille Day next summer?

The Bastille
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

JAMESTOWN, New York - Randy Carlson reports that the group putting together the class reunion for next summer - the one to which SWCS grads from 1960-1970 will be invited - looks like it might be held July 14, 2007.

Here's Randy's email to me:

"The first meeting was held last night. Not all of the classes were represented, but the results seemed to be good, and a follow up meeting will be held on 10/23 at 7:00.

This is all tenative, but it looks like Sat, 7/14/07 will be the date of the event, held at the Herman Kent American Legion Post in Celoron. The use of the hall, which holds about 300 people, the new outdoors covered pavilion and tents and the band (we would have a choice) would be free of charge. The club would be open for spirits purchase (cheap) and they could do a buffet for about $12.00 to $15.00 depending on choices."

So for those of us who suffered through (excuse me, sat through and studied sooooo many) French classes, you know that July 14th is Bastille Day. It is also my ex-father-in-law's birthday, but that's another story.

I just watched a great PBS special on Marie Antoinette, which featured the Bastille. And, by the way, she never said, "Let them eat cake."

That was put out by her political opponents, the descendants of whom probably work for Fox News now.

Anyway, I know we all celebrate Bastille Day in our way, but this year, it could be that we will all be together at a reunion, singing La Marseillaise and swilling French wine. (Well, maybe some Uncle Homer's Red anyway.)

Perhaps we should practice our French phrases, too, in honor of Jon Giacco, about whom Tom Priester can tell us "the rest of the story," when we next get together.

Mon dieu! Mon dieu!

Seneca Lake winery tour ready to set sail

Seneca Lake wineries
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

HECTOR, New York - The annual pilgrimage of Chautauqua County couples to Seneca Lake will be next weekend Bob Swanson reports. Two years ago Bob and Donna stopped by Valois where the Admiral and I have our 'summer house' on the shore of the lake.

If 'summer house' sounds a little pretentious, please stop by anytime you are in the area to help me paint, repair plumbing problems and drag fallen tree limbs to the brush pile.

If that isn't enough fun, we can rake seaweed into piles and haul it to the vegetable garden.

When Bob and Donna came by, we went to the Rasta Ranch Winery, which, like Rodney Dangerfield, gets no respect but markets some fine wine. My personal favorite is Uncle Homer's Red, which because of its name probably doesn't get the respect it needs either.

I shipped a case of wine from New York here to California where a dozen bottles are sitting in my wine rack (Gawd, there's another pretentious sounding thing. My wine rack is a cardboard wine box from Trader Joe's sitting on its side.)

I wanted to thank Allan Winger for posting the web address where people could go to see me introducing the president of my university. I think I want to thank him, anyway.

And if you think this blog is only being read by Class of '66 folks, you are mistaken.

At a meeting a few days ago, the president asked me to tell him the how-many-presidents-does-it-take-to-screw-in-a light bulb jokes I mentioned before.

Jaysus!

In case you missed the previous blog about the SWCS reunion for classes from 1960 to 1970, I've posted it here again. I don't know what weekend they're shooting for yet, but I have my fingers crossed that it's in mid to late July. I can usually put down the paint brush in Valois by then to get away.

Class reunion in works for 10 years of graduates

JAMESTOWN, New York - Sue Siecker sent me the clip below from the Post-Journal about planning efforts for a reunion of SWCS graduating classes from 1960 to 1970.

Think how old those class of 1960 people must be! Think how young those 1970 grads are. Young punks, I bet.
In any event, it might be that the Class of '66 could somehow time our visit/reunion/soiree/fete the same weekend. Perhaps someone on the ground there (Helloooooooo Randy!) could get in touch with folks organizing this 10-year deal and see what's up?

While all that's happening, I'll drag out my battered issue of the Centralian, and also set plans for a walking tour of downtown Busti. Bob Swanson has promised to be my guide, but because there aren't any wineries, we will have to carry some along as he points out the notable landmarks.

It was all about Chautauqua Lake for me

What I remember
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

LAKEWOOD, New York - As fall creeps in, even here in California, I'm reminded of how important Chautauqua Lake was to me.

Right after Labor Day was when the boats and docks came out of the water and the boots and heavy jackets out of the closet.

My mother was fearful of the roads, so she bought me a fairly clunky bicycle, but she didn't skimp on the boats. Oh no! I started wth a rowboat at 10, had a small ski boat at 12, a larger one (with a 50 HP Mercury engine) by the time I was 14 and traded it all in for a sailboat my first year of college.

A sailboat! That was the beginning of a 40-year-love affair that keeps me busy nearly every weekend all year long.

Even then I traced the path down Lake Chautauqua from my house in Lakewood, past Celeron, down that windy river (is it a river?) through Jamestown, leading you (if you figure out how to get your boat past several dams) to the Atlantic Ocean. My grandmother (who lived in New York City) gave me a world atlas when I was 13 and I studied it as carefully as any of the Playboy magazines we were able to find. (Hey! I studied the articles. Come on!)

I wish I had actually gotten into sailing earlier, but the then-Lakewood Yacht Club was a closed social circle that I couldn't really crack. It was one of the few places I remember that I was barred from (outside of the bars we tried to sneak into starting about age 16). And for some years, that probably accounted for my having a bad attitude about yacht clubs.


Chautauqua Lake Yacht Club today

I got over that notion in California and have paid enough yacht club dues to four different yacht clubs in California and Puerto Vallarta to buy a pretty nice boat, if I didn't already own one.

I sailed out of the Lakewood Yacht Club just once - aboard a small Sunfish owned by Sandy Carlson (Class of '67), who was a good sailor and couldn't believe that I barely knew a rudder from a centerboard. We headed out late in the day and as the sun set, the wind dropped and we were becalmed, easily a mile from the club dock on one of those warm summer evenings that made the lake such a special place in the summer.

I should have recognized the tactic on her part. I mean, I was always pretending to run out of gas on my ski boat on those rare occasions I actually had a date. But I was as dense then as I am now about such things, so I just started paddling us in instead of having a romantic interlude.

It was a very quiet cruise back to the dock and I just thought Sandy was angry because we were becalmed.

Gawd.

At our reunion I had several conversations with people about the lake - mostly that there was a clear social division between people who lived in Lakewood and those who lived elsewhere. See? Elsewhere. That's how geocentric life was for me.

And, I have a confession. I have never driven to - or though - Busti. No kidding. Not once.

Sorry Bob and Donna Swanson. I'll rectify that next summer.

Taking a tour of Southwestern Central High

Welcome sign
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

JAMESTOWN, N.Y. - One regret I have about our Class of '66 reunion (aside from the headache I had on Sunday) was not going by the high school and checking it out.

I would have liked to walk the halls and see if they are as huge as I remember, or if that evil aura still exists right outside the principal's office.

Regardless, the photos here come from Lee Anderson and this is an excerpt from his note to me:

My sister, Carin - class of 1961, attended her 45th reunion at the end of July and she sent me some pictures of the school. They went up to the school and were allowed to walk around. Thought you might like to see them.

I sure hope we can do an annual picnic get-together. I would enjoy talking to everyone in a more relaxed setting. It was nice a Webb's but way too loud. Must be my old age. :-)

Lee

Front Entrance


The Alma Mater

Had I gone to the school, I could have checked out the practice fields for softball and soccer where, on the weekends, we would drive around on our motorcycles, jumping some of the hills. It was on one of those hills that Cindy Hall slid off the back of my bike and landed smack dab on her ass.

BOOM

Luckily, she was fine, just (as they say) her pride hurt. My pride was hurt a little, too, by my poor hill-jumping skills, but not like Cindy's.

I would have also like to have gone down the hill to the football field and track and listened for the sound of the crowds I remember from the track meets. I can still hear the voice of Coach Joe Rushin as I would round the turn headed to hand off the relay baton to Larry Nelson.

Fitz- ger- ALD! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Maybe next summer I'll stop by the track when I'm in town for our mini-reunion. That seems like it will probably be the second or third weekend in July. And depending on when the Chautauqua Lake Yacht Club regatta is, I might be there both weekends.

More on that another time.

Noelani Rupp takes to the sidewalks

Noelani takes to the ... sidewalks
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

SOUTH BURLINGTON, Vermont - I received this photo a couple of days ago of John & Paula Rupp's daughter Noelani, taking off on one of her first excursions on her bicycle. If she is anything like her father, those training wheels will come off very soon and before her mother knows it, she will be pedaling down the street and around the corner - without permission, of course.

John had one of the first motorcycles in the group I hung around with in high school, a Honda 65 that he lent to just about anyone who asked if they could borrow it.

He usually failed to ask an important operant question: Can you ride a motorcycle? So more than once, his bike got smashed and had to be repaired. And, of course, he did a few crashes himself.

Iborrowed it once, promptly crashing into Linda Davidson's front yard where I dug a small trench with the kickstand ( Was it Marvin Avenue in Lakewood?). I quickly removed myself and the motorcycle before anyone came outside. Tom Todaro (Jerry Todaro's younger brother) then borrowed it from me, promptly crashing into a fence across the street from Cindy Hall's house. It's a wonder that motorcycle ran at all.

Paula reports that she and Noelani are settling back in at home now, with pre-school looming and lots of activities for Paula, too, including taking a water safety instuctor's course so she can teach swimming to the little ones.

As sad as I am about John Rupp's early passing, it's a gift to be able to stay in touch with his young family.

Go Noelani! Go!

Another sad bit of news for the Class of '66

JAMESTOWN, New York - Classmate Sue Siecker and Cheryl Aitken Thompson (Class of '69 who lives in San Diego) passed along the sad news that Rhonda Bolles, the younger sister of Dana Bolles, has passed away at 55.


Rhonda Bolles

Sue sent me her full obituary from the Jamestown Post Journal, which I was unable to cut and paste here. But if you would like a copy, I can forward it to you, or Sue can also. ( I think a forward of Sue's email might work.)

Little sisters, were, of course, little sisters as we were in high school and Rhonda might never have been the object of any upperclassmen's attention except for the Beach Boys song, Help Me Rhonda.

Rhonda was, well, the only Rhonda I knew and I remember all of us singing that damned song and Rhonda Bolles went from Dana's little sister to someone who could be part of the social scene. Maybe even, gasp, ask to a dance.

But wait right there! She was still Dana Bolles' little sister - making it one idea that flamed out fast.

I hope that Rhonda is reading this as I type it, laughing that a bunch of geeks, upperclassmen geeks at that, were thinking about her when they crashed about in their cars, singing the verses to Help Me Rhonda, car radios turned up so loud we cracked the speakers.

My condolences to Dana and his family. It's a sad time for sure.

And for Rhonda? Well, this song is dedicated to her from the Class of '66 and we hope that Heaven has plenty of rock 'n roll playing and that she's already dancing. It wouldn't be Heaven without rock n' roll.

Help Me Rhonda
performed by The Beach Boys

Well since she put me down I 've been out doin' in my head
Come in late at night and in the mornin' I just lay in bed

Well, Rhonda you look so fine (look so fine)
And I know it wouldn't take much time
For you to help me Rhonda
Help me get her out of my heart

Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda yeah
Get her out of my heart

She was gonna be my wife
And I was gonna be her man
But she let another guy come between us
And it ruined our plan


Well, Rhonda you caught my eye (caught my eye)
And I can give you lotsa reasons why
You gotta help me Rhonda
Help me get her out of my heart

Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda yeah
Get her out of my heart

Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda yeah
Get her out of my heart

Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda
Help me Rhonda
Help, help me Rhonda

Getting those new threads for school

New threads for school
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

SACRAMENTO, Calif. - That expression, "clothes don't make the man,' is a good one, except that anyone who has ever shown up somewhere grossly underdressed - or overdressed - it's obvious there is some connection between clothes and who people think you are.

I spent some time in the past few weeks buying some new threads - something I thought I was done with - so that I can hobnob with some of the big cheeses on my campus as well as legislative types and the big donors that want to get their names on buildings.

I remember not-too-fondly the trips to Carnahan's in downtown Jamestown each August to get some new SWCS threads, but being fashion-challeged, I invariably bought the wrong stuff and didn't realize it until the first day of school.

About sophomore year, I figured out that instead of my mother, I needed a friend to go with me on clothes-shopping days. It improved my wardrobe, but not too much. Guys generally have crappy judgment about what looks good and what doesn't.

The shoes were the big challenge, because when the snow would fly, my mom would insist that I wear boots - or at the very least slip-on rubbers.

Isn't that a great word? Rubbers.

I can still hear my grandmother shouting out the back door of my house as I walked to the bus stop: You forgot your rubbers!

Rubbers, indeed.

I wore loafers, of course, the truly cool shoes which coincidentally had slick bottoms and I landed on my ass all the time. But I remained cool, as we all did, except for those few guys whose mothers somehow got them to wear their rubbers on the school bus.

My God, did they get a load of crap from those of us who were, well, rubber-less!

The other new threads I was forced to wear, of course, was a hat, (once the snow flew) and so I would walk out every morning with a God-awful, red furry hat (complete with ear flaps) perched on my head. And as soon as I was out of sight, I would carefully place it in the bushes next to my neighbor's house (Ted Husted's place I believe).

Afternoons, I had to retrieve it to bring it home and one day, well, it was gone and there was quite a fuss about replacing it. (Mercifully enough, winter was almost over and my mother didn't want to lay out any more cash.)

Today I have to go buy some school shoes. Admiral Fox is adamant that I can't wear my boat shoes every day, particulary in a couple of weeks when I probably will end up dining with a fellow who just gave the university $2 million towards a new athletic building.

But thanks to the mild California weather, I'll spray a little waterproofing on the seams and be fine for the winter.

No need for rubbers, thank you very much.

Cleaning up the backyard & Pacifico beers

Pacifico beers
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

SACRAMENTO, Calif. - I just reclaimed my backyard from the vines and assorted plants that had decided it was their backyard, not mine, and in the process I imbibed of couple of bottles of beers that remind me of warmer days in Mexico.

Well, maybe not warmer. It's hot as hell outside.

But after a couple of Pacifico's (the 12 ounce bottled version, not the jumbos), the yard is spiffy enough to host a dinner party next weekend for our three new faculty members and the administrators from the university who are still speaking to me now that I am chair of our faculty.

Yes, it will be a small affair.

But today's blog is really not about my beer consumption or university politics, it's to mention an idea that Dianne Hagglund posted on the Class of '66 discussion list that Allan Winger keeps going.

Diane agreed that having a yearly get together would be fun - but she also suggested that perhaps some other folks might be willing to share their memories, perspectives, nightmares, etc... from our high school days.

Dianne on far left

I'm not short of stories. I haven't even started on the stuff about what we did most Halloweens or when we drank too much beer and Southern Comfort and would stumble into athletic events. (Don't worry Jim Carr, as long as you keep the Grey Goose cold for my visits to you in Arizona, the bleacher incident will not be written about...).

But I think it might be fun to have other people write up a couple of hundred words. I'll post them in this space - and I'll try to find some kind of photo to go with - as well as the author's yearbook picture. I know Cheryl Towers has some tales. I bet other people do to...

Think about it, because as soon as school starts (in about a week for me) all hell will break loose in terms of my time and while I will endeavor to keep this blog going, the gaps (like this past week) may become frequent.

Blog on, amigos, blog on!

How about an annual SWCS Class of '66 reunion?

See Zurh House scene
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

BEMUS POINT, New York - While the memory of last month's 40th reunion of the Class of '66 is still in your minds -- and it's likely you haven't yet seen your credit card bill from the trip -- let me make a wild suggestion about next summer and the summer after that and the summer after that and...

Many folks make a pilgrimage back to the Jamestown area nearly every summer, to see friends or relatives or just on a nostalgia tour.

So why not have a reunion every summer?

(Sweet Jaysus! He's lost his mind! Not true, I lost it a long time ago, amigos. A long time ago.)

What I'm suggesting is that we (you, me, the entire Class of '66) pick some weekend in the summer as a mini-reunion date. We can simply all gather at some watering hole (like the See Zurh House or Surf Club or The Pub) or elsewhere (Randy, want to throw a party? Sue Chandler? Jim Lindell, I see you hiding there...)

If five people show up, five show up. If ten, it's ten. If 100 show up, it's a social movement and we can apply for non-profit status.

All the Class of '66 needs to do is pick a date sometime for a soiree next summer.

I would prefer after July 4th, as my family obligations tend to keep me close to Valois near Seneca Lake that holiday weekend. And, given that I might have a chance to race in the Chautauqua Lake Yacht Club sailing regatta again next summer, well, I expect to be around in mid-July of 2007

But whatever date seems good, I'll be there if I can - and if not - well, I'll make it in 2008. Or 2009. Or 2010. The important thing is setting a date. Remember all those people at the See Zurh House and at Webb's you swore you would keep in touch with? Well, maybe this will help.

So, think about it. Mull it over. Chew on the idea. Bounce it around. Give it some thought. Ponder the concept. And then run it up the flagpole and see who salutes it.

In meantime, I'll open my credit card statement and see how much damage I did at Webb's Resort and elsewhere that weekend.

Hmmm... damned heavy envelope.

Gloria Boutelle offers up a class-reunion poem

Gloria Boutelle
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

JAMESTOWN, New York - As I was munching a Mallo Cup, my email dinged with a missive from Gloria Boutelle about reunions.

It's pretty good.

===============================

CLASS REUNIONS

Every ten years, as summertime nears,
An announcement arrives in the mail,
A reunion is planned; it'll be really grand;
Make plans to attend without fail.

I'll never forget the first time we met;
We tried so hard to impress.
We drove fancy cars, smoked big cigars,
And wore our most elegant dress.

It was quite an affair; the whole class was there.
It was held at a fancy hotel.
We wined, and we dined, and we acted refined,
And everyone thought it was swell.

The men all conversed about who had been first
To achieve great fortune and fame.
Meanwhile, their spouses described their fine houses
And how beautiful their children became.

The homecoming queen, who once had been lean,
Now weighed in at one-ninety-six.
The jocks who were there had all lost their hair,
And the cheerleaders could no longer do kicks.

No one had heard about the class nerd
Who'd guided a spacecraft to the moon;
Or poor little Jane, who's always been plain;
She married a shipping tycoon.

The boy we'd decreed "most apt to succeed"
Was serving ten years in the pen,
While the one voted "least" now was a priest;
Just shows you can be wrong now and then.

They awarded a prize to one of the guys
Who seemed to have aged the least.
Another was given to the grad who had driven
The farthest to attend the feast.

They took a class picture, a curious mixture
Of beehives, crew cuts and wide ties.
Tall, short, or skinny, the style was the mini;
You never saw so many thighs.

At our next get-together, no one cared whether
They impressed their classmates or not.
The mood was informal, a whole lot more normal;
By this time we'd all gone to pot.

It was held out-of-doors, at the lake shores;
We ate hamburgers, coleslaw, and beans.
Then most of us lay around in the shade,
In our comfortable T-shirts and jeans.

By the fortieth year, it was abundantly clear,
We were definitely over the hill.
Those who weren't dead had to crawl out of bed,
And be home in time for their pill.

And now I can't wait as they've set the date;
Our sixtieth is coming, I'm told.
It should be a ball, they've rented a hall
At the Shady Rest Home for the old.

Repairs have been made on my old hearing aid;
My pacemaker's been turned up on high.
My wheelchair is oiled, and my teeth have been boiled;
And I've bought a new wig and glass eye.

I'm feeling quite hearty; I'm ready to party,
I'll dance until dawn's early light.
It'll be lots of fun; and I hope at least one
Other person can make it that night.

-- Author Unknown

The gang on the porch at the See Zurh House

Gang on the porch at See Zurh House
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

BEMUS POINT, New York - I'm back from my hiatus to the California Delta (which I wrote about in my other blog) and it seems like our reunion was, well, a month ago.

Not surprising, as it was a month ago.

And in the ensuing time, I am hopelessly confused about what photos have been posted and which have not, so if I start to repeat myself like someone with Alzheimer's, bear with me.

And in the ensuing time, I am hopelessly confused about what photos have been posted and which have not, so if I start to repeat myself like someone with Alzheimer's, bear with me.

What's that? Eh?

This photo features (seated from l-r) Linda Davidson, Barb Bunce, Kathy Anderson, Marianne Jim and Gloria Boutelle. Kneeling in front is Mike Coon, who, I believe, is drinking a Budweiser product, not much a surprise, I suppose.

Oh, and a message to Gloria. Thanks again for the Mallo Cups. I've gone to rationing them carefully (not...) as the whole package is disappearing frighteningly fast (and my waistline is growing even faster).

I did receive a couple of more photos: one of Jim Nelson dancing with Shelley Kales and one of me dancing with Shelley Kales. Shelley seems to have been a favorite of the photographers - perhaps because she was out on the dance floor the whole evening. Good for her; some of us had to rest.

And I'm posting a few more which I believe I haven't ever posted. But if so, well, remember that paragraph about Alzheimer's.

And I'm posting a few more which I believe I haven't ever posted. But if so, well, remember that paragraph about Alzheimer's.


Jim Nelson and Shelley Kales


Fitz and Shelley Kales


The Skating Crowd


Greg Taft at Midway Park

HOT HOT HOT & time for another vacation

Buster Poindexter
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

SACRAMENTO, Calif. - The Class of '66 Reunion in July was definitely a high point this summer for me and the songs the DJ played have been ringing through my head for weeks.

Best slow song? Mel Carter singing Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me.

Best fast song? HOT HOT HOT with Buster Poindexter.

In case either of those songs doesn't spark any memories from the reunion, the slow song had everyone out on the dance floor in the firm grip of romance - sometimes even with their own spouse.

And HOT HOT HOT was the fast song that prompted a wild conga line.

The video of that conga line is pretty wild and will be heavily featured in the rockumentary about the reunion.

Here's a partial list of the songs that were played, which we might dub, the Class of '66 Soundtrack:

Tossin' and Turnin'
Mustang Sally
The Stroll
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me
The Wanderer
Start Me Up
Takin' Care Of Business
Mony Mony
Devil With the Blue Dress On/Good Golly Miss Molly
Where the Boys Are
(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave
Bad, Bad Leroy Brown
HOT HOT HOT
Some Kind of Wonderful
Shout

And now that I reread the list, I suppose I will have Shout stuck in my head for most of the day, replacing HOT HOT HOT and Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me.

Hmmm... Feelin' HOT HOT HOT... Nope, that one's still stuck in my brain.

This website will look pretty much the same - no, make that exactly the same - for a week or so, while Admiral Fox and I take our sailboat Sabbatical on a week's vacation into the California Delta area where - Gasp! - there is no internet service and cell phone service is pretty spotty. I'm taking along some old technology for amusement (books) and hope to come back refreshed enough to take on my new university job - and finish the rockumentary from our reunion.

But for your amusement, I pulled one still frame from the video of the conga line. In going from video-to-still, it didn't translate all that well, but you can get the idea.

The video version is quite clear and focused and five minutes long. Oh boy!

HOT HOT HOT Classmates!


The conga line at the Class of '66 reunion

Every reunion photo seems to full of smiles

Louie had a good time
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

MAYVILLE, New York - The most striking thing about virtually every photo that I've seen from our Class of '66 reunion from a couple of weeks ago is the smiles.

Everyone is smiling like they just won the California lottery or their work offered them such a great buyout they can retire right now.

Wahoo!

In this photo, Louie Acquisto is doing a Blues Brothers imitation and dancing with two gorgeous women. Way to go Louie. The video version of this scene is even more striking. With luck, I'll be able to share some of that later this summer.

I also received a number of smiley shots from Allan Winger, who apologized for showing his mug in almost all of the photos. I'm just glad he snapped so many photos and was kind enough to send them along.

Here's three from the collection:


Allan, Mrs. Keefe and Dan Keefe


Lee Anderson, Allan, and Greg Taft


Tom Priester and Allan

By the way, thanks to everyone who offered suggestions on what to put on the memorial brick for John Rupp. With 15 characters per line (including spaces) I finally caved in and did this simple inscription:

In memory of
John M. Rupp
Class of '66

No doubt the pain between my shoulder blades is John reaching from beyond to give me a kick (or a whack with a tennis racquet) for not writing some smart-ass thing on his brick.

But kee-rist! Fifteen spaces? Come on!

A little lake time was in order at the reunion

Jim Lindell hits the tube
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

LAKEWOOD, New York - As the photo with today's blog attests, I wasn't the only one who took to the water at our class reunion.

Jim Lindell went tubing on Saturday while I was out trying to upend the sailboat on which I was racing in the Chautauqua Lake Yacht Club Regatta. At least Jim meant to get wet.

Growing up - and living right on the shore the lake - meant that any day the weather was even halfway decent it was time to drag out the waterskiis and find someone willing to pony up some money for gasoline so we could zoom around for hours.

Today, while out test-driving a new auto (Do not get me started on that fiasco!) I drove past the twin of the boat I owned as a teenager - a 14-foot MFG with a 50 HP Mercury hanging on the back. Was it a sign from the heavens? Was it a hallucination after seeing the sticker price on the cars I was test driving? I think the second hypothesis is the most likely.

The last time I was on water skis I tried to do one of the few tricks I ever mastered - putting the tow rope between my knees while skiing on two skis. I made it about 50 feet before I crashed, all captured in living color on the video camera. We used to fall a lot when we skied - part of the fun, I suppose. Now, well, it can hurt.

The new technology of tubing looks like it's a lot of fun, particularly with the speed of boats today. While we were content with 40 mph, even jetskis can hit 70 now - and pull a tube I've noticed.

Jim wasn't alone tubing (hard to drive and tube at the same time). Among the other suspects with him was Louie Acquisto, though no photos of Louie crashing about the waters of Lake Chautauqua have made it to me yet.


Louis Acquisto enjoying the water

The part of the Class of '66 Reunion I missed

Jack Eckdahl gets teed off
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

JAMESTOWN, New York - I never played golf (the real kind, not the miniature version) largely because I didn't own golf clubs as a kid and the nearsightedness limited my ability to whack the little white pill very far.

I learned early what a divot was and my brief tryout for the golf team ended very quickly and with a lot of shouting on the part of Dick Shevalier, if my memory serves me.

So, I didn't get involved with the golfing Saturday at the reunion, instead I went down to the Chautauqua Lake Yacht Club and quickly hooked a ride on a sailboat as crew in the charity regatta going on. The whole club was buzzing with racers and if you haven't seen the yacht club in recent years, they have installed a large in-ground swimming pool. Very upscale.

I landed on a boat owned by Geoffrey Bond, who lives in the old Bootey house (we called it the Bootey mansion, when I was a kid) next to Lakewood Beach. We had two great sailing races (took a second and a fourth) and had I not almost swamped the boat in the second race, might have done every better.

Whatever. I did get a world-class sunburn on my face, which was exacerbated by far too many glasses of Pinot Grigio Saturday night during dinner and after in between dances. That song "Hot, Hot, Hot," is still stuck in my head.


Fitz & Captain Geoffrey Bond (center)

While I was getting ready for the race, I ran into Sharon Ticknor (Class of '69) who was crewing in the regatta also, but on a large cruising boat. My boat was about 16-feet long, a little tender and we forgot the cooler with the drinks.

No wonder pirates say Arrrrrgh - it's when they run out of beer!


Sharon Ticknor & her daughter

I've received several more reunion photos - thanks Randy and Allan - so I have an excuse to keep typing and avoiding the writing deadlines I have the rest of this week and next.

But if you didn't take a close look at the golf photo of Jack Eckdahl at the top, look at it again. What a great grin - at least before he takes the shot.

Easily recognizable, and still smiling after 40 years

Dan Beckstrom, Ken Sonne & Steve Sewell
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

MAYVILLE, New York - A few more photos have trickled out of my photo file from the Class of '66 reunion, including this shot of Dan, Ken and Steve at the dinner.

All three guys are clearly the people we graduated with - even Dan who is arguably a foot taller than I remember him as being! Steroids - or a late bloomer?

Ken Sonne is retired after a long and successful teaching career. Steve and Dan are still among the ranks of the employed, Dan with his own company (if I remember what he told me correctly) and Steve has a security clearance, I believe. You'll have to email Steve about what he does, I don't have a high enough clearance. In fact, as a journalist, I probably have a negative rating when it comes to security clearances.

I also found this shot of Craig Fransen, who was one of my closest friends growing up. In the early 1960s, Craig, Gary Shenkle, Tom Short, the late Ron Hurlburt and I would lift weights in his basement (Craig obviously kept at it and it shows) and then go upstairs to feast in his family kitchen.

One summer we all bought sweatshirts and used a Magic Marker to write "Fransen's Gym" on the front of them.

On the back we wrote "Bigger Biceps for '64"

I really wish I had kept that sweatshirt.

That winter I bought my own set of barbells to have at the house. It should have been a sign that I had to have someone carry the box from the store and put it in my car.


Craig Fransen

And lastly, here's yet another dance shot - nope, not Shelley Kales and I again (though I do have another one to post). This is another group shot, but of a circle dance... (As opposed to a square dance? Sorry.) And what exactly is Linda Davidson doing/saying in this photo?

Yes, more table shots and more dance photos

Dinner for five?
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

MAYVILLE, New York - The well is almost dry, but not quite, of contributed photos from the SWCS Class of '66 Reunion, held more than a week ago. In the top photo, Sue Guertin-Chandler (on the right), Marianne jim (seated next to her) and Gloria Boutelle Olson are all pretty recognizable.

I believe the blonde head belongs to Linda Davidson, but I can't be sure.

I spent a good part of today trying to figure out what to put on the memorial brick for John Rupp. I have space for three lines with 15 characters each, which is barely room for me to say hello, let alone craft a snappy brick-eulogy.

So, I'll take any suggestions. Limericks are ok, too. John would appreciate a funny ditty on his brick.

There once was a lad from Lakewood... (won't work - too long).

I finally watched the video of the dancing, by the way, and, well, mercifully enough the lighting is pretty bad. In other words, we all look pretty good dancing! I'll see what I can do with it when I try to import it into my movie program.

In the meantime, here's a few dance shot stills that I'll incorporate into the video.


Doing the stroll


Fitz & Shelley Kales


Kathy Lindstrom shows real style

Herr Pfaff made it to the Class of '66 reunion

Jim Nelson and Herr Pfaff
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

BEMUS POINT, New York - Jim Nelson sent along this photo yesterday of Herr Pfaff of Southwestern teacher fame, who made it to the See Zurh House Friday night but in the hubbub, I missed him entirely.

Damn! (How do you say that in German?)

If you look at his smile, you see he's the same guy - just add 40 years.

(Hmm... I guess that goes for Jim Nelson and the rest of us, too.)

Mr. Pfaff was my homeroom teacher senior year and always seemed to be busy and in a hurry, but never so busy or in a hurry that he couldn't take a minute to listen to my laments.

I had a serious case of senioritis our last year and wasn't particularly interested in anything other than the writing my gossip column (with John Rupp) called The Eavesdroppers for the Trojan.

I'm pretty sure that Mr. Pfaff interceded on my behalf with a couple of the teachers (like that maniac who taught French, Jon Giacco) to give me a break.

Jim sent along several other photos - plus I have more from Gloria Boutelle to post.

Here's a couple to jog your short-term memories about what we were doing a little over a week ago.


Dance, dance, dance


Jesse Dowd


Louie Acquisto and Larry Nelson

Gloria Boutelle Olson's camera comes through

Gloria & Marianne & Dianne
Originally uploaded by Brite light photos.

SACRAMENTO, Calif. - The electrons were still spinning on my plea for more reunion photos when Gloria sent along a number of photos from Saturday night.

Her camera was afflicted with the same problems as mine, except many of her photos came out well within tolerable levels.

In fact, most of us will like some of the soft focus shots. Damn those wrinkles anyway.

So, Gloria, many thanks for the pictures and the Mallo cups!


Kathy Lindstrom dancing with her husband


Gary Lucas and his wife


The four amigos...