I’ll cover a couple varieties of oldies but goodies in this post.

First the recycled gas station kind.  There were two recent finds, both of them the old sturdy stone structures that one can still find occasionally.

This first one, in rural Williston, Florida, seems to be a private residence, and the second, right in town, is a pizza restaurant. (Go here to see my complete collection of recycled stations)

And now to the human variety of oldies but goodies: high school classmates.

Yes, I have renewed contact with a bunch of them.  It began when I attended the 50th reunion back in 2012, continued with the 55th in 2017.

The occasion this year was a ‘mini-reunion’ up in The Villages of some of us who live in Florida.

I’m one of those who floated through the high school years totally oblivious of most socio-cultural clues and I saw no need to continue a relationship with someone just because we attended the same high school.

I knew that there was a core of classmates who stuck together and had been holding reunions every five years since graduation.  I had attended only one, the first, back in 1967, but I had always been on the mailing list and had occasionally made a small donation to further the cause.

So when the 50th came along I decided to go.  Call it curiosity or whatever.  It would at least make a nice road trip back to the Midwest.  The 50th was also sort of a big deal, tour of the high school, Friday night dinner prepared and served by some students, announcement of us at the Homecoming football game, Saturday dinner at a hotel, Sunday lunch at the sportsmans’ club, etc.  All the hoopla.

I was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere.  Informal, friendly, welcoming.  I’ve seen the stereotypical reunions as portrayed in the movies—the gathering of the in-crowd, the posturing, the posing and the exclusion—but there was none of that in real life.  (Perhaps I remain socially oblivious?)

Just a bunch of mostly Midwest oldies but goodies getting together to renew acquaintanceships with folks they hardly recognized.

I had borrowed a classmate’s yearbook for the 50th and scanned all the senior head shots to put together a small booklet to pass out at the reunion.  It was a big help to me in putting the now into some context with the then.

I remember standing in front of a mirror and holding up my senior photo next to my face and thinking, “nope.  I won’t recognize anyone.”  And with one exception I didn’t.

Below is the recent mini-reunion  in Florida.  That’s my tanned bald forehead sticking up at about one o’clock.