Putting the "union" in "reunion"

My 45th high school reunion was held last weekend out in west Texas. We went out there to see what we could see of old friends and for the fun of revisiting relationships and images of the home town. Walking into a big room with a crowd of folks you've known 48-53 years and their spouses is just about indescribable to those who've never ventured to partake. For those who have, the first few seconds to a quarter hour (depending on the size of the group) are full of nostalgia and handshaking. Depending on your eyesight and the number of years that have passed, there's maybe a few backward tilts of the head to see name tags as you simultaneously smile and engage the person in conversation. It seems ALWAYS that there should be a bigger difference between the spouse name tag and the classmate tag, so you don't spin your head and cause giggles by confusing a spouse for a classmate you don't recall.

The home town has taken a few hits on downtown business continuing to flee to the west mall and beyond. That's just life in the not-so-big city. But, telling the (patient, but never-resident) wife about what used to be and where it was WHEN it was there provided some sort of closure and happiness to my elder heart.

A two gigabyte micro-SD card provided far too much freedom to snap and snap and snap digital photos. At the size I have the camera set, I was warned at one glance that I (only) had 3,000 photos left to shoot before I would run out of room! Everybody had their chance in front of the lens, though there were a few reluctant ones that only got captured in the effort to wander about during our final evening meal together and snap whole table sides of folks during their nurture. Back at home, I'm faced with manipulating all those images and storing them until I decide where and how to display them for the friends and classmates who actually care about them. I, of course, can for the nonce just dip back into my memories of the night and feast on what I saw as I snapped the camera.