As the date for my 50-year high school class reunion nears, I’m sure the NSA has noticed an increase in “chatter” between me and my classmates, mostly about gathering photos to include in a slideshow for the reunion.
One of my classmates, who married a Delphi boy who has done extremely well in the business world, lives in Baton Rouge, La. I had a bigtime crush on her when we were in grade school, but she never knew it. In later years, we did some genealogical research and discovered we are “double cousins,” that is distant cousins through two different lineages.
She mentioned in an email this week that she and her husband have bought the Faye Underhill house in Delphi and plan to move back upon retirement.
I haven’t a clue as to which house that is, although I suspect I had a customer there when I was a newspaper carrier for the Lafayette Journal & Courier in the sixth and seventh grades.
I’m a member of the “You Know You’re From Delphi When…” group on Facebook and it has heightened my realization that I was stunningly self-absorbed and oblivious to people outside my immediate circle of school friends and my parents’ close friends.
Conversations with classmates these days are filled with names of people I know nothing about. The names are vaguely familiar, but I can’t put a face with them or summon up any details about them.
I have the feeling of having lived there 18 years wearing blinders.
It doesn’t particularly disturb me, but I am aware that I was obviously not paying attention to the degree that many of my friends were.
I fully expect this will become glaringly apparent next weekend at the reunion.
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