HIGH SCHOOL

Whitesboro's 50th High School Reunion is coming up in August. If I only have one story to tell, this is what it will be.

Earl Golden, English Teacher,  tall and thin, wore a trench coat which flapped in the wind as he walked. He was a beatnik at heart, and it was notable that his wife walked two steps behind him,  - mouse of a woman. He was faculty sponsor of the school paper, WISP.

Mr Golden arranged for we, the WISP editors, to attend a school newspaper conference at Columbia University, NYC.  I remember nothing of the workshops we attended.

I only remember two moments of that encounter with a larger reality than I had known up  to that time.

Most memorable was dinner at the Punjab, an Asian Indian restaurant, loving the aromas and the strange tasting food, loving the chapatis and mung beans best.

Following that was a night at an off-Broadway theater, an impromptu comedy evening with Mike Nichols and Elaine May.  In one skit, which Mike and Elaine were on a park bench necking, his hand slowly creeping in to feel her breasts, she insisting he not do that with each attempt. I do believe it is the first time in my adolescence that I was able to laugh out loud while empathizing so painfully.

Mr. Golden's intent may have been for us to learn more about editing a newspaper, which we may have, but even more of a gift - he shared a new world of possibility for us to contemplate.

The old school house was never the same after that week in NYC.

BABY GIRL

In my heart lives my baby girl. She feels safe and loved. As she plays in the fenced in yard, I watch her pass the time away.  She dances around in circles, to the tunes the birds are chirping. The wind brushes through her white golden hair as she spreads her arms up to the sun. She bends over the sandbox, etching waves with a small rake.as she sings, "White coral bells, upon a slender star...".

As I rest on my porch, the same birds are singing in  the fruit trees,  and it is the sun draping its rays across the deck. Cat sleeps on the other chair, sitting up as a squirrel chatters, then stretching first, before he curls back up and returns to sleep.

Then a nearby buzz saw intrudes on the silent beauty of that moment and the day begins.

I finish my coffee quickly before leaving the porch for another gentle moment, at another time.

As I move into the day, I hold the promise in my heart of a soon to be born infant grand daughter.

There in my heart, she and my inner baby girl will play.

NEW

The event that holds this change is this;  On the same day that Whitney Houston died, Adele took all the Emmys.

Whitney's song was "Run to You" - the wail of unrequited love and other such songs of longing for whatever reason.
Adele's song is "Someone Like You" - a letting go of the past for whatever reason and moving into the future.

On the day that these two events happened , I also experienced that kind of shift occurring in my whole being.

I I have been listening to others, reading the facebook posts, watching the news, and sense that it is a universal event that is happening in a lot of places and psyches.

Such a refreshing experience.