1972

Greetings from springtime in the suburbs. Our bulbs are pushing up through the snow, only to be eagerly investigated by our golden retriever puppy for such essential qualities as taste. The books on puppies all say that dogs are omnivorous, and in our experience their fare includes paper, wood ashes, dirt, and other such delicacies.

And on to the news. Since this is a spring issue, there will be news of weddings and babies aplenty. Jim Silcock and Julie Evrarde announced March wedding plans. Jim is a managing partner in the venture capital firm of TVP Associates, and Julie is an associate in the corporate finance department of Blyth, Eastman Paine Webber. Steve Kiely and Annette Gonthier were married recently in Amesbury, Mass. Steve is an attorney with Dwyer and Murray in Boston, and Julie is also an attorney, her firm being Costello, Hourihan, Frattaroli, and Barret of Salem. At the wedding were Bruce Leiter, Peter Dinan, JimConway, and Tim Ball.

John Sanstead is practicing medicine in York, Pa., and he and Penny have a three year old daughter. Mark Stitham is practicing medicine in Hawaii, and Richard Larson is clinical director of the acute leukemia service at the University of Chicago. Dave Hazelett is an attorney in Burlington, Vt.

On other fronts, I finally got a note from Fabian Ropogol. It seems that he awoke one morning last week and discovered, to his horror, his first gray hair. He said that at first he had a fierce urge to pull it out, but when he realized that his forehead was higher up than he seemed to remember, he figured that a gray hair was better than no hair and besides, there was no harm in looking a little dignified. Then he went downstairs to read the mail and discovered that someone at his squash club had had the gall to send him a membership application for the seniors division. The seniors, it seems, begin at age 35, and that was coming up soon for Fabian. At this point, thoroughly miserable and looking for his Geritol, a ray of hope appeared. It was a letter from Dartmouth, and as he opened it, Fabian was reminded of those glorious days when he could drink all the beer he wanted and not gain any weight. Hurriedly leafing through all the propaganda about how at this point in his career he really should be able to start contributing to the Alumni Fund, he came across a note from Sheldon Prentice announcing that the reunion chairman for our 15th had been chosen, and did anyone want to help out.

At that point, Fabian set pen to paper to write this lament, which I appreciated because otherwise I would have been almost out of news, which I am now.

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