www.robsherwood.com
Just Before Bed
Posted by Rob Sherwood • Tuesday, 2011-July-26 • 21:54
I wasn't going to write anything tonight, but I just brushed my teeth and looked in the mirror. About the only time I look in the mirror these days is while brushing my teeth. I think I am going to dye my hair. Again. Not the brassy-blonde of the 80's and 90's, but something subtle. Jet black. I have this horrid white streak of hair streaking up from my cowlick near the front of my hair-line. It is streaking awful because it looks like I put it there on purpose. Sort of like a twisted Elsa Lanchester in the Bride Of Frankenstein. Isn't there a wonderful story about her husband, Charles Laughton, who was quite gay in the current meaning of the word; not the 30's meaning of the word. That was always quite confusing to me. The story (myth) is the she caught him on the living room sofa in flagrante delicto with some young chorus boy. She stormed from the room and he ran after her begging for forgiveness and asking over and over, "What can I do to make it up to you?" She replied, "Sell the couch." I love stories like that. I hope they are true. The closest I ever came to saying something lasting and unique was when I arrived at a party in Minneapolis (drunk), dropped my pants and said, "Anyone want to fuck a fancy showgirl?" I just googled that phrase and nothing came up. I'm going to work on it and see if I can use the internet to google my way to eternal fame.
Way Too Many Memories
Posted by Rob Sherwood • Monday, 2011-July-25 • 21:30
I missed every High School Class Reunion in the 107 years since I left old Cloquet High on Carlton Avenue. I managed to make it back for the 100th Anniversary of the school, along with a couple of thousand others in 1997. I woman was there from the Class of 1915. Or maybe she just attended the school in 1915. Whatever, she was no spring chicken. Anyway, my record of Reunion attendance was sketchy. Late last year I got a call asking me if I were the Fenton Barley Terpenskaya who attended Cloquet High School (I used an alias from grade 3 to grade 12) I lied and said I had never heard of such a person. A few minutes later, being assured they weren't going to make me pay to cover up some graffiti in the boy's room on the 2nd floor, I owned up to my true identity (Nikita Perez)and agreed to receive all the information concerning the big class reunion coming up in July of 2011. In due time, the info arrived and I put it in the "important papers-pending" stack and got back to trying to spend myself into the poor house.
In the back of my mind, I knew that I had an event coming up in the summer of 2011. As the winter snows melted, a friend asked me if I was going to my High School Reunion. He wasn't just being nosy. His sister, Karen, was a class-mate of mine and his curiosity was actually his sister's. I told him (and he relayed it to Karen) that I was going. Indeed. I had every good intention.
On April 15, 2011, all day I had a strange sense that I should be putting something in the mail. The feeling passed and it wasn't until early May that I ran across the "important papers-pending" stack. To my horror, I had missed the sign-up cut-off deadline, April 15, 2011. I KNEW that date had some significance. To be honest I wasn't all that worried because I figured if I called, they'd cut me some slack...and I had plenty of time (months) to take care of it. By the way, I also got a nasty note from the Internal Revenue Service but I'll save that story for another time.
Jump ahead to the 4th of July. I was visiting my nephew's family in the Twin Cities when I was reminded of the pending reunion. My Class Reunion. In JUNE!!! Damn!!! I missed it. Crap! (I might have used the "F" word but these are children of the 50's and we didn't "F" this and "F" that.
Leap forward with me to July 23rd, Saturday morning when I was jarred from a dream that Joe Friday was sitting on my sofa by class-mate Karen's younger brother.
"Where were you?" "You must go to the dinner tonight." yadayadayada. I thought I had missed it. My reply. I don't have a thing to wear. Nobody will miss me, I'm sure. yadayadayada. The phone calls ended with the basic, I'll think about it.
Now I was haunted. It wasn't so much that I wanted to attend the reunion; it seemed like attending was my sworn duty. If I didn't show up I'd be making a statement I really didn't want to make. I needed a haircut, I hadn't done laundry in a month, I ate salted-in-the-shell peanuts the night before and was retaining water....I had many reasons miss it. The voices argued in my brain and even a Prozac double-dose didn't ease the anxiety. By noon, I called Karen and told her I would be there...probably. By 1PM I had called the head of the committee to tell her "I had thought it was in June" and if it was permitted, I would be there. By 2PM I was at JCPenney's buying some clean socks and underwear. At 5:55PM, I arrived at the Cloquet Country Club, wrote a check for $30 and the odyssey was complete.
I have so much to write about that evening (which lasted until 2:45am) and how happy I am that some people cared enough to get me there. Although I wouldn't have realized it, I almost missed a really wonderful experience. I got to spend some conversation time with people I haven't talked to in 40-50 years. I saw many people I would have loved to spend an entire dinner with and only got to do a little cocktail party "Hi..great to see you". I realized that the kids I went to school with turned out OK. Thoreau and I were wrong. The mass of men DON'T live lives of quiet desperation. Few of the gang at my Class Reunion will ever read this, but for those who do, it was great seeing you. I wish I had more time to chat and if you ever feel like carrying on a colloque, I'm game. I now know why I spent so much time hanging out with Terry M. and why I have had decades of good memories of the plays I was in with Sharon M. I hardly got to talk to Tim S. but he should know I appreciate how he tried to get me to do my homework. Neil B. actually had read this Blog and website, so he gets high marks. There were many more and I hate that I'm not mentioning everyone. All the nice comments, are so damn appreciated, I will live on them for months.
It could have been better, though. Next Reunion, I suggest that I sit on a raised dais at the head of the room and spend the evening talking about myself. I'll even leave time for questions. Five years, right?
In the back of my mind, I knew that I had an event coming up in the summer of 2011. As the winter snows melted, a friend asked me if I was going to my High School Reunion. He wasn't just being nosy. His sister, Karen, was a class-mate of mine and his curiosity was actually his sister's. I told him (and he relayed it to Karen) that I was going. Indeed. I had every good intention.
On April 15, 2011, all day I had a strange sense that I should be putting something in the mail. The feeling passed and it wasn't until early May that I ran across the "important papers-pending" stack. To my horror, I had missed the sign-up cut-off deadline, April 15, 2011. I KNEW that date had some significance. To be honest I wasn't all that worried because I figured if I called, they'd cut me some slack...and I had plenty of time (months) to take care of it. By the way, I also got a nasty note from the Internal Revenue Service but I'll save that story for another time.
Jump ahead to the 4th of July. I was visiting my nephew's family in the Twin Cities when I was reminded of the pending reunion. My Class Reunion. In JUNE!!! Damn!!! I missed it. Crap! (I might have used the "F" word but these are children of the 50's and we didn't "F" this and "F" that.
Leap forward with me to July 23rd, Saturday morning when I was jarred from a dream that Joe Friday was sitting on my sofa by class-mate Karen's younger brother.
"Where were you?" "You must go to the dinner tonight." yadayadayada. I thought I had missed it. My reply. I don't have a thing to wear. Nobody will miss me, I'm sure. yadayadayada. The phone calls ended with the basic, I'll think about it.
Now I was haunted. It wasn't so much that I wanted to attend the reunion; it seemed like attending was my sworn duty. If I didn't show up I'd be making a statement I really didn't want to make. I needed a haircut, I hadn't done laundry in a month, I ate salted-in-the-shell peanuts the night before and was retaining water....I had many reasons miss it. The voices argued in my brain and even a Prozac double-dose didn't ease the anxiety. By noon, I called Karen and told her I would be there...probably. By 1PM I had called the head of the committee to tell her "I had thought it was in June" and if it was permitted, I would be there. By 2PM I was at JCPenney's buying some clean socks and underwear. At 5:55PM, I arrived at the Cloquet Country Club, wrote a check for $30 and the odyssey was complete.
I have so much to write about that evening (which lasted until 2:45am) and how happy I am that some people cared enough to get me there. Although I wouldn't have realized it, I almost missed a really wonderful experience. I got to spend some conversation time with people I haven't talked to in 40-50 years. I saw many people I would have loved to spend an entire dinner with and only got to do a little cocktail party "Hi..great to see you". I realized that the kids I went to school with turned out OK. Thoreau and I were wrong. The mass of men DON'T live lives of quiet desperation. Few of the gang at my Class Reunion will ever read this, but for those who do, it was great seeing you. I wish I had more time to chat and if you ever feel like carrying on a colloque, I'm game. I now know why I spent so much time hanging out with Terry M. and why I have had decades of good memories of the plays I was in with Sharon M. I hardly got to talk to Tim S. but he should know I appreciate how he tried to get me to do my homework. Neil B. actually had read this Blog and website, so he gets high marks. There were many more and I hate that I'm not mentioning everyone. All the nice comments, are so damn appreciated, I will live on them for months.
It could have been better, though. Next Reunion, I suggest that I sit on a raised dais at the head of the room and spend the evening talking about myself. I'll even leave time for questions. Five years, right?
Exhaustion.O
Posted by Rob Sherwood • Sunday, 2011-July-24 • 21:11
Good. Took care of the dust and now I will continue. The reason I am so tired is because on Saturday I went to a High School Class Reunion. Have you ever gone to any of your reunions? This was my first, although about 15 years ago I DID go to 100th Anniversary All School Reunion which at no standards at all. Anyone and everyone who had ever gone to the high school was encourage to attend. Honor Society and high school drop-outs sharing memories.
This was different. This was an actual CLASS reunion and a surprising percentage of the class attended. Never have I seen such a gaggle of Lesbians and Homosexuals.
(Just checking to see if you are paying attention.)
Actually, my memory must be way off, because I have always been under the impression I went to school with a bunch of teenagers and it turns out my classmates were all very old and feeble. I managed to avoid the Metamucil Table (it was in a completely separate room because of the rude noises emanating from THAT bunch) and spent the entire evening at a table with some people who claimed to know me but even after checking their IDs, I have no recollection of ever meeting. They were the sort of people I wouldn't hang around with anyway.
Once, I asked someone who did a lot of public speaking how they over-came their nervousness. He said that he simply imagined the entire group naked and they weren't frightening any more. So, game for most anything these days, for the rest of the evening I imagined everyone there totally naked.
And that is why I'll have to save the rest (and true) story of my High School Reunion for when I am not so traumatized. I am hoping it is just a horrible medication induced nightmare and soon I'll wake up.
This was different. This was an actual CLASS reunion and a surprising percentage of the class attended. Never have I seen such a gaggle of Lesbians and Homosexuals.
(Just checking to see if you are paying attention.)
Actually, my memory must be way off, because I have always been under the impression I went to school with a bunch of teenagers and it turns out my classmates were all very old and feeble. I managed to avoid the Metamucil Table (it was in a completely separate room because of the rude noises emanating from THAT bunch) and spent the entire evening at a table with some people who claimed to know me but even after checking their IDs, I have no recollection of ever meeting. They were the sort of people I wouldn't hang around with anyway.
Once, I asked someone who did a lot of public speaking how they over-came their nervousness. He said that he simply imagined the entire group naked and they weren't frightening any more. So, game for most anything these days, for the rest of the evening I imagined everyone there totally naked.
And that is why I'll have to save the rest (and true) story of my High School Reunion for when I am not so traumatized. I am hoping it is just a horrible medication induced nightmare and soon I'll wake up.
Exhaustion.O
Posted by Rob Sherwood • Sunday, 2011-July-24 • 15:10
Anybody there? Hello? Hello? Excuse me while I find my Swifter. These keys are dusty as hell. ......
I just looked under the kitchen sink and the Swifter box was empty. I am now leaving for the store to buy some new Swifters and maybe some EndDust. When I have taken care of this problem, I shall get on with my BLOG entitled...Exhaustion.0. (Achew) OMG. I'm allergic to this dust. I'll have to stop at the drug store as well.
Previous page | Next page
Archive