My Hometown Glory-A Reunion of Sorts

I’ve been walking in the same way as I did
Missing out the cracks in the pavement
And turning my heel and strutting my feet
“Is there anything I can do for you dear?
Is there anyone I could call?”
“No and thank you, please Madam.
I ain’t lost, just wandering”

This whole thing started because Danny and I said we were going to have a drink together the day after Thanksgiving. I haven’t seen the man in 25 years. I got the bright idea to create a Facebook event for it. I figured what the hell, there’d be 10-12 of us. And then it BLEW UP! I’ve had people message me that graduated in 1980 that want to come this event. We now have over 50 people attending. Dan’s Tavern has been well stocked with beer and Laurie and her husband had a banner made. It even has my web address on it!!

When I started writing I never knew where it would go. I never knew it would lead me home. To Saline. To my old friends. To my new friends. I never knew that most of my support would come from those I didn’t even know back in high school. I hated Saline. I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out. To find another life. Hard to believe that writing would bring me back home.

Round my hometown
Memories are fresh
Round my hometown
Ooh the people I’ve met
Are the wonders of my world

Most of us have not seen each other face to face in over 25 years. Some of us have never met! But we have created a loving community on Facebook. Folks that would NEVER have been friends in high school are friends on Facebook. We support each other. We love each other. And we bitch at each other. We find out news of those that we lost as far back as 25 years ago. And as early as weeks ago. We celebrate them tonight too. We celebrate that our Death Valley Days are over. That we are still here. But we also realize we are mortal. As we grow older, we are reminded of it every day. Tonight we raise a toast to those that have gone before us. To our Death Valley Days. To the loss of our innocence as teenagers and the coming together of an unlikely group of people. I’m so thankful for everyone of you!

We also want to raise a glass to our very own Axl Rose. Our RD. Happy Birthday my sweet friend. I’m so glad that you have found happiness. That your life is good. I remember your voice. The way you sang. Full of gravel and attitude. Funny how I haven’t heard that voice in so many years, but as I read your posts it rings in my ears. It’s so good to finally hear it again. Happy Birthday my dear Ronnie!

Enjoy the night and know that this will be an annual event. We will come together every year. Take over a bar and share our lives. To us, to life, and our old home town of Saline. CHEERS!

18 thoughts on “My Hometown Glory-A Reunion of Sorts

  1. schools in my area have two reunions every year. one is around the saturday after thanksgiving for a specific year. 25, whatever. but in the summer, they have an open reunion for any alumni usually at a beach bar. i like that idea.

    • The beach bar sounds like SO much more fun. I’ve NEVER been to a class reunion. My high school years weren’t very good. I wasn’t in the “in” crowd. I was a little punk/music/drama girl. I had good friends though and life got so much better after high school. For the most part, anyway. I’m not as young as I used to be though. Damn I’m tired.

      • i was between crowds because i went to elementary school with all the druggies and was good friends with them, but during high school spent most of my time with the athletes.

      • I’m not surprised. šŸ˜‰ I was a wild child. Couldn’t stay in one place for too long. I was mostly a stoney though. Never had to worry about competition with the stoneys. We were just good friends. Loved each other no matter what. Even though I’m grown up and have found a good place in my life, I still felt inadequate in the presence of some of those people. Silly huh?

    • It was crazy and I was all over the place. I can’t believe how many people showed up. Next time I’ll plan better. A bigger space for sure. It was fun, but I’m tired. Yeesh.

  2. I’ve never been to any school reunions that I’ve beeen invited to.
    I hated school with a passion and couldn’t wait to get out of it.
    There were a few people that I got on really well with and wouldn’t have minded keeping in contact with, but they went to college and I didn’t ( could have, didn’t want to, big regret sometimes) and we lost contact. Some have died, so so young, some have gone on to make fortunes,but i’ve not really felt the need to meet up with any of them. I was alway a bit of a loner, did my own thing but enjoyed the company when it came along.
    I didn’t ” belong” to any groups or cliques, and sort of got left when college came a calling.
    Actually and funnily enough, one of the guys in my class at high school,that everyone considered to be a bit of a stiff, eneded up probably being my best mate ( and still is on an on and off basis, you know, you don’t see them for years, then they walk back in to your life like they’ve never been away.
    This guys name is Brendan, he was great when my dad died, I weas his best man at his wedding ( he was the only one I knew there! ) and he was also very supportive when my mum died.
    Top man, and a good friend, I really don’t see enough of him now, something I think i will have to rectify soon after reading your post šŸ™‚
    What’s a stoner???
    Thanks for posting this Renee, It’s made me think a bit about times past, whther they were good or bad, or did I enjoy them… The answer to that is .. I don’t know.. I think it’s going to take a considerable amount of talking ,reminiscing and a lot of booze to bring those memories back.:-(

    • Honey my school years were not very pleasant either. I was always looking for someone to love me. Didn’t learn till later in life that I needed to love myself first. My life got so much better after high school. A stoner is a pot smoker. I was a pot smoking, drinking, cigarette smoking, wild child. With a crew cut and combat boots. For a short time anyway. Then I found my group. I’m friends with them still. One of them is my nearest and dearest. I talk to her every day.

      Call your friend Seadog. Get together and have a drink with him. Chat about the old days and make new memories too. He sounds like a good guy. Just like you are!


      • Blush blush , aah thanks Renee, I will, trouble is he lives at the other end of the country to me and that’s part of the problem.. however there is always the phone, good idea, thanks. šŸ™‚
        We used to call ” those people ” ( wink wink ) skinheads. They were off their heads, rough as fuck, liked ska and reggae music, went to football ( soccer ) matches, wore monkey boots or doc Martens and were hard as fuck too.
        They would give you a kicking as quick as look at you, and were best left well alone.
        I just can’t imaging you doing the Skinhead Moonstomp šŸ™‚
        Funny thing is now, I have my hair cut short ( er than a skin), wear boots and go to football ( soccer) matches… how weird is that?

        I did go through the smelly biker stage for a few years, but again no clubs or rough stuff, though there was a group of us that used to hang around together in the late 70’s.
        Sadly again, most of them are dead now, bike accidents or the like and I don’t see any of them any more either.

      • Oh honey I was never that rough. Just a girl that didn’t give a fuck. The older I get the more I don’t give a fuck. Hahahahahahaa! Back then I wanted to belong to a group of people that didn’t care what you wore, said or did. The stoners were good to each other.

        Call your friend. Share a shot or two over the phone. Reminisce. Later my friend.


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