Last weekend was groovy! The last several years I have been getting together with four of my closest friends. Three of us met in kindergarten and the fourth moved to town in first grade. She quickly fit in and became an official Park School Roadrunner. Who would have known that back in the mid 70's when we met that it would be the beginning of an amazing adventure in a one stoplight town trying to grow up and figure out how to leave the very thing we now all fondly remember.
We have experienced a lot together. Early on I had some sort of social skill challenge. We all remember me sitting on the metal merry-go-round flipping a twig (at everyone who got near me) soaked in sewer water that was being discharged from a pipe that ran through the school yard (hello people, this can't be good!). I blame my social awkwardness on not having preschool. Then there was the time we watched in horror as one of our classmates swang upside down on the jungle gym that was set into concrete and lost her grip. She lived to tell about it and never even swallowed her gum, but none of us dared repeat that trick. Then there was our 5th grade teacher who also happened to be the principal who ate an entire fudgsicle with his front teeth and never cringed. Only later did we realize they were dentures.
In junior high we learned about make-up, spent nights calling in love request to a local DJ radio show, (which the station was actually a camper by a big antennae in the middle of a wheat field) and how to use a curling iron. Farrah Fawcett feathered hair rocked especially with an Izod shirt. We loved certain teachers and dreaded others especially one of our 6th grade teachers who wore a scowl on her face all day long. She happened to walk by my desk with white pants on when I had taken the lid off my purple marker and I got some sort of hand twitch and left a mark all the way around her bum. Or the English teacher who was on crutches with a broken foot but miraculously got up from her desk and walked across the room to sharpen her pencil without crutches and not even a limp.
Then there was high school and parachute pants and untied sneakers which landed me with a broken leg as I tripped on my shoelaces and fell down a flight of stairs chasing a boy my freshman year. A teacher asked a group of football upperclassmen to carry me to the office, I didn't want them to know how heavy I was so I walked on a broken leg. The truth or dares...daring one friend to jump up in the middle of class and yell Toyota when the teacher left the room. I did it , then she did it and got caught. Three of us played basketball the fourth played trumpet. We survived prom and homecoming dances with really, really big hair, and really ugly dresses. Then we graduated.
Our paths each took different directions. We all went off to college and met new groups of friends but always stayed in touch. We managed to go on spring break one year with another good friend from the same town and continue to laugh each year at the memories that week brought...another blog of its own. Then we each graduated college , landed real jobs, moved across the country several times, went to each others weddings, had kids and dogs, and finally decided to have a girls weekend.
So last weekend marked our 6th year of the get together. We shopped, and ate, and laughed, and ate some more, and laughed so hard we cried. A group of friends that no matter what you are going through you can be yourself. Another blessing. I use to not understand why I lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere. I am so glad now I grew up in that small town. Even though to this day I don't understand the two traffic lights now installed. So here's to the gang! The Park School Roadrunner Club. Cheers!
Peace.
The "New Balance" Girl
Running Report: Ran 4 miles each day and did speed work on Wed. I use the word speed workout loosely. I am 40 and running 800's. I felt like I was flying but the Garmin said not so fast. I will get there or pull something major tryin'. Hope to run long this weekend. Enjoy your weekend!
Too funny...I want to know if the teacher with the white pants realized it was you that made the mark on her bum with the purple marker?
ReplyDeleteYes she did! I felt guilty and scared at the same time. So I raised my hand while hives developed on my neck. I admitted what had happened. She actually almost smiled and said,"Get back to work, my pants can be washed." I think she had a good heart.
ReplyDelete