50th Milligan College Reunion

I was not sure it was a great idea but I signed up to attend my 50th reunion at Milligan College. In 50 years I had not been back for a reunion nor had I kept in touch with anyone in my class although I read about some of their accomplishments in various publications. But 50 sounded special and in a weak moment, I sent in a registration.

The fact that the school is in East Tennessee, one of my favorite parts of the county, was a draw. I figured if the reunion were terribly boring, or embarrassing, or awkward, I would simply head up to the Smokey Mountains.

Jim was a good sport about going. A school like Milligan is an entity foreign to his college history. While I had 112 students in my graduating class and the school had 980 students total back then, Jim's class at The Ohio State graduated 10,000 his year. Milligan must have seemed like a miniature institution, like a fern in a terrarium or guppy in a lake, to Jim; an aberration.
 

 Yet Milligan is growing and above is a photo of one of the five new resident halls which were dedicated this weekend. Seven additional resident halls are planned.

Friday night we saw an excellent production of Godspell at the college theater. Saturday morning we were hosted by the college at a class brunch. Medals were handed out and worn proudly although I now realize, after a little thought, that we were awarded for simply living long enough to celebrate at this event.


The brunch was attended by about 50 50-year graduates and their spouses. Each alumnae was asked to give a synopsis of their last 50 years. That seemed like too broad of a request, summing up fifty years. No time limit was given, the second mistake. It was not long before we were transported to an alum's cross country trip, route by route, a 30 year teaching career and every grade taught and the years, the lives and times of each of the children, each of the grand children, and the darling-ness of great grand children. Twenty minutes later the first speaker sat down....I was mentally adding up the time it would take to get through with this exercise, most of which had already been printed in commemorative booklets given to each of us.At this rate, I was estimating that I would be grateful to return to southern Indiana by Christmas.

Lunch with a good friend, her husband and four children was delightful. The first afternoon event was The Parade. The campus has a main road running through it, about a quarter mile long. That was also the length of the parade. Every sports team marched and the graduates (50 years) rode in Corvettes throwing candy to the crowd. I guess a thousand people attended. Looking across the roadway I spotted my grand daughter who had graduated from Milligan in the Spring. She and her husband had driven down for the reunion and Bryan was playing in the alumnae-student soccer game. They were celebrating their half-year reunion.

A tall crane was set up in the middle of the road and all the reunion attendees spelled out BUFF (for Buffalo Nation, the buffalo being the Milligan mascot). The photographer snapped the photo from the top of the crane.It took some organization and I was thinking we should all be glad that we had a little four-letter mascot and not something like Pioneers or Polar Bears.
 

Attending the soccer game found the alumnae beating the school's current soccer team 9-1.We walked through a student photography exhibit, my first dorm (built circa 1880) and watched the kids on the inflatables.
 

Staying with friends who live in the area we met them for dinner and then hurried back to their home to watch The Ohio State - Penn State football game.

On Sunday we attended the church on campus and reconnected with a graduate student (doctorate) that I had met at one of our mutual seminars when I was at the seminary. Ben is the associate minister at the church. He excitedly told me that he had been granted a Lilly Grant and was taking a sabbatical next year. I was so excited for him.

Hopwood Memorial Church has been a fixture at Milligan for over a hundred years. Built of stone the inside seats around 200. At 8:30 a.m. about 100 were in attendance. A woman presided over the reading of Scripture; a woman presided over the communion service; a woman preached. I was delighted.

As we left the campus we stopped to take a photo of me with the bronze buffalo. 



Milligan was a good place for me in 1959-1963: small numbers of students, protected environment, beautiful area of the country. It was a good place for me in 2013: friends with whom to reconnect, memories of good times and narrow escapes, and the launching of a lifetime of enrolling at colleges and studying various and sundry courses of study. I told the gathered classmates, when it was finally my turn, that both of my daughters had graduated from Milligan and most recently, my grand daughter and with each succeeding generation of student our family sends to Milligan the quality and character of those students rises exponentially.

And that's what I think about it. 

Dirty Windows - On Purpose

With the cooler weather I find myself cocooned in a comfy chair in front of the TV. Computer on my lap, books of study and pleasure on the hassock in front of me, Diet 7-Up to my right on the coffee table, I feel warm sunshine radiating through the window and warming whichever side of me is facing said window.

As I scan to my left I notice the window is dirty.

A combination of rain splatter, grass clippings thrown up and sticking from mowers, bird outlines (why the birds would hit such a dirty window is beyond me but their perfect outlines dot the big pane of glass), and corner spider webs keep the most severe of the sun's rays from becoming uncomfortable for those inside sitting where I have already described to you.

There was a time last Spring that I had a lead on a window washer. He was a high school senior and performed odd jobs including washing windows during his summers. He was dating one of the grand daughters so I thought, quite mistakenly as it turned out, that I could call him sometime in the summer to take care of mine. Alas! They ended their relationship before my windows got washed and I thought it would be like rubbing salt in wounds to call and employ him.

So now it is Fall and my new excuse is that everything on the picture window, itemized in the paragraph above, keeps the sun's rays from putting a glare on the TV picture, a glare on my computer screen, keeps from increasing the heat on whichever side of me is facing the window, keeps the air-conditioning from working overtime thus conserving money and energy, and keeps some of the wildlife outside the window in their homes.

I'm a down-right Conservationist. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

And that's what I think about it.  

Two things to know for Tuesday

1. While having breakfast this morning at a local establishment we sat near a group of teachers from a near-by high school who meet for breakfast regularly to help each other figure out the generation of students they are now attempting to make into outstanding citizens.

Although we were not following their conversations closely, one statement did jump out at us when one of the female teachers was heard saying, "If it'd been me, I would have shot him in the front."

Yikes!

2. While walking along the Ohio River front in our little town we came across several folks out walking their dogs. We stopped and talked to each owner and petted each animal, each on a designer leash.  We made contact with a Standard Gray and While Poodle, a Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier and a Brindle Dachshund.
Apparently mixed breeds 'need not apply' to live in our little community.

Although I must add that the Terrier was a rescue from an apartment on the east side of  New York City and had been crated during the day. Now he has the run of the riverfront and a gaggle of grandchildren to herd.

And that's what you need to know for Tuesday. And that's what I think about it.

Irritating Doofuses

For a few months I have been taking pictures of cars parked erratically, willy-silly around town. Many of these vehicles have been parked in handicapped spots but I use the word 'parked' euphemistically as none of the photos I've taken have been of cars in or near the lines outlining their space parameters.  I have labeled the driver a Doofus, the plural being Doofi...or Doofuses, take your pick. My suggestion, for the DMV, is to incorporate an eye chart with yellow lines and have the wanna-be driver place the car within the lines using the computer mouse, like a video game. My next suggestion would be to simply erase all lines everywhere and let everyone have at it, after all it is a free country...and apparently filled with Doofus Drivers.




My next item on the current list of stuff that irritates me comes out of Washington, D.C. where children in grown-up garb are name-calling and bullying one another daring the other to blink. No party is innocent. Our current events teachers in the schools have had to take a break from instructing students on emulating our elected officials. Parents are attempting to stifle bullying without role models in the very place we all should be able to find them.  If they had parked their cars, they would all be Doofuses.

Next on my list is the 'depressed' lady shot in Washington, D.C. this week by capital police after a chase down Pennsylvania Avenue. Depressed? I read the news, I'm depressed too, but I don't get in my car and take pot shots at neighbors. Doofus.

If you do not follow, on Facebook, Chief David Oliver of the Brimfield (OH) Police Department, you are missing daily doses of wisdom ALA Will Rogers. From the weather report to local drug stops, to high-fiving kindergartners to reading the exploits of the K-9s (Havoc, Joker, Nitro, and Drogen) Brimfield ranks second only to New York City in the number of people who 'Like' them  (from 29 countries) on Facebook. It gives you a personal look at a profession that these officers take very personally. It is only a short mind-hop to realize that your own local law enforcement departments deal with the same stuff every day for one reason, to protect and serve. Unfortunately, most other departments do not have the creative writing ability of Chief Oliver. Jim and I purchased two of the chief's books, No Mopes Allowed, for our two local favorite officers.

It irritates me that you can pick out a parent's child on the soccer field because that child has every bad trait exhibited by the parent. Last night we watched as a student who had been juggled some by an opposing player on the soccer team, lose focus on the game and red-faced seemed determined to strike back...and not necessarily at the goal. The referee cautioned him about his play and encouraged him to take a deep breath and get back into the game. He didn't seem to be able to. This 18-year old has some life lessons to learn. For sure our kids copy what they see. Doofus parents.

Cheers to the veterans who ignored the government shut down that closed their war memorial. This is civil disobedience at its finest. One said he had been shot at all over Europe during the war and he wasn't much afraid of capital park police. For their part, and to their credit, no effort was made to stop these veterans. Doofus government.

I think you are getting the idea that I have little to no tolerance for stupidity. On the flip side, these are my Doofuses. I elected some of them, I live around some of them, and I interact with some of them daily and enough of the time I am probably the Doofus in someone else's life. And so it goes. Like Judy Judy says, "Beauty fades but dumb is forever." I wish Judge Judy would use the proper term, Doofus!

And that's what I think about it.