1988

There's no better way to get a class secretary's attention than getting a threat. At least it's something, which is more than can be said for many of you. So when Simon Cordery threatened to send Great Britain's elite fighting group, the SAS, over to get me if I didn't print his letter, I listened.

Since I mentioned Simon himself in a recent column, I'll just update you on him; he's back in England after completing a research project in Bermuda. He's working with the Rassias Foundation to market the Rassias method to European companies in preparation for the single Euro-Common Market coming in 1992. Then he'll go for his powdered wig, or should I say, a position as a solicitor. He can be reached via the Dartmouth Club of London, if you're headed that way.

The next two paragraphs are from Simon's missive. Chris Terfloth, your favorite European DJ, is working at Greenwich Associates in Connecticut. He has plenty of chunks of the Berlin Wall for sale and PhilDevine, working for Touche Ross's accounting department in Boston, is handling the books.

Several law school students surface: MattNjaa is at UVA, Werner Meyer is in his second year at Notre Dame (and Simon hears rumors that Werner is engaged), and Sam Braverman is down at Duke.

A nifty note from developmental research in Blunt informed me that Arnold Wensinger was named executive director of the Asian Business League of Southern California. He's the league's first full-time staff member. Clearly, Blunt is already planning to hit him up for something; Arnold, consider yourself warned.

Jeff Green writes from Fuchu, Toyko, with tales of his job as an English teacher/missionary with an English school. He knows English, but the Japanese are still learning it. "Billboards are the best. 'I feel Coke,' 'Thanks wedding Mamma.' A restaurant and bakery named 'Buns.' Now that I know Japanese, I understand the translation errors, but it still makes for a good laugh at least once a day."

Jeff plans to stay in Tokyo another year or so, teaching English and Bible classes. The latter can be daunting, he reports, as the entire culture worships gods that are either Shinto, Buddhist, or materialist.

No materialism here —are you kidding? I'm a journalist. And an angry one when classmates don't write, which you haven't been. If the SAS comes after me, I'm handing over my computerized class list. I know where you live, and so will they.

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