1979

Well, alrighty then!!! How the heck is everybody? Me, I'm just fine, thanks for asking! Summer's almost gone, the leaves they area-changing, the kids are back in school (thank God!), the house is quiet again, and my mind drifts easily back to some of the more delectable memories of my summer.

Amidst a glistening three-river sunrise I actually listened for a change as Ed and my wife chatted like old friends (they had never met.) mostly about the '89 National League playoffs. Will "The Thrill" Clark singling off the Wild Thing to bring the pennant back to San Francisco. Remember? Ed will never forget (he's a Cubs fan). Maggi will always remember. We were there together. She grew up two miles from the 'Stick. It was one of the best 45 minutes of my life. My hair felt very strange though. Flying all night does that to me. You?

And then while in D.C. caught up with W.B. "Twitty" Conway III. Wild Bill is a very established lawmaker, off of the Hill itself, where he carved his stolid reputation, for a few years now. I actually got to sit in his office, which overlooks a beautiful city park that features a pure white (albino?) squirrel. Way cool! Billy whisked us off to his tastefully restored nineteenthcentury farmhouse, reputedly haunted by the spirit of a poor young girl taken by scarlet fever.

We feasted on a piece of meat bigger than my head. Pretty big! Got to meet his beautiful family: wife Diana (good work Billy!), children William 3 and Catherine 1, dogs Barkley and Wooford, a cat, and Billy's life-size vegetable garden were also there. We had so much fun, eating and drinking, laughing and talking, just soaking in sweet life.

Missed Bags' 40th at Moosilauke, unfortunately. Only Bray had reserved the mountain for a weekend to celebrate one of the more storied members of our class, William H. "Phineas Q.T. Bags"Mitchell. And because of that Rosalita was the only mung hall hit that didn't get played by the juke box junkie D.J. Philip O' espied Bags cruising 89 in a brand new silver (of course...) BMW Z3 convertible. He pulled alongside, and Billy exuberantly cheered himself a "Happy Birthday" before jetting off at warp speed. The only strange thing was that Bags was not quaffing roadies! Amazing what perks come with the class treasurer's job.

Klingon and Stanley phoned on their way to Teddo's wedding(?). Man, are there any eligible studs left in our midst? Cheers to ya, Teddo and Beck! J.K. Saer returned my call from June and it was great to talk to him. John works on P.G.A. Boulevard in La Quinta, Calif. Something about building resorts centered around world-class golf courses. Nice life. John's tantalizing young wife, Shelby, keeps him smiling, as do his sons, Kenneth Hill, 4, and Tobin, 2. Bubby the yellow lab rules the roost. Bubby?

Libby Roberts penned me a heartfelt letter (wish more of you would!). Libby wrote from her desk as director of development at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston, where she is loving life. Cancer and AIDS research is slow, she says, but there are discoveries and miracles every day. Too much news for now. Stay tuned...

The leaves are all gone now, and the far man is about to get stuck in the chimney once again. Happy Hollandaise everyone. May 1998 bring much peace and sweet dreams. Write, call, or just send money. Please. Hasta!

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