College Reunion with My Pen Pal

After many years, I finally got to meet my pen pal face-to-face. Yes, I actually used the phrase “pen pal,” a concept that is about as old-fashioned as rotary phones and gas station attendants who wear neckties.

My pen pal’s name is Avraham, and he is a devout Jew who lives in Israel, while I am a semi-devout Catholic who lives in Connecticut. “Alan,” as he’s known to his U.S. friends, grew up in New Rochelle, NY, and then moved to Israel soon after graduating from college. That is our original connection: we graduated from the same college in the same year. (To give you an idea of how “young” we are, Jimmy Carter was president when we graduated. And no, George Washington was not still alive.)

Although we spent four years on the same campus at the same time, we never actually met each other back then, probably because Alan spent much of his time in the Hillel Jewish House learning the intricacies of the Torah, while I spent much of my time in the Sigma Chi Fraternity House learning the intricacies of tapping kegs of Iron City Beer for breakfast.

Back in 2004, my class — Bucknell University, 1979 — had our 25th reunion, and at that time, all the people in my class were about 47 years old. (Whoa, that’s a lot of numbers for one sentence. I should’ve asked a math major to double-check it for me.)

Anyway, back at that reunion many of my classmates talked a lot about their high-powered careers and their daunting responsibilities. Also, it seemed to me many of us were trying hard to cling to our youthful appearances.

This time around, now that we’re in our early 60s, everyone talked a lot about retirement, either enjoying it now or looking forward to it soon. Compared to 15 years ago, we were noticeably less ambitious, and as a result, much less stressed out.

Also, there was a significant reduction in vanity. We all seemed to realize that hanging on to our youthful appearances is a silly pursuit (not to mention an impossible pursuit), so we just relaxed and didn’t worry about it. And you know what? My classmates still looked just as beautiful and sexy to me as they did on graduation day — and that goes for the women, too. (Of course, my eyes are also in their early 60s, which means my observations may be based less on nostalgia and more on blurred vision.)

However, there was one major disappointment for me at the recent reunion. I expected there would be a lot of discussion about our personal health issues. It seems people my age love to do that. But other than a brief incident, when I said to a classmate, “How ya doing?” and he replied, “Pretty good. My knees are shot, but whataya gonna do?” there were no long recitations of aches and pains, medical procedures, prescription drugs, and general whining and moaning about the physical trials of growing old.

The reason I was disappointed was because I had done my homework (first time ever on that campus), and brought along all my medical records, complete with X-rays of my gimpy knee and digital images of my latest colonoscopy. Oh well, maybe at the next reunion.

We instead chatted about two very positive topics: the joy of seeing our kids grow up and start their own families, and our retirement plans. Oh, and we also did the standard reunion thing: told wild stories about our undergraduate days, some of which were even true.

Overall, it was a great reunion. And I hope I picked up a few new pen pals in the process.