Your ticking heart

It's been pretty interesting serving on the class reunion committee. This year we celebrate our 40th-year reunion as members of Sandpoint High's Class of 1965. We're getting together during the last weekend in July, and since our 30th, the Internet and technology have provided a grand new dimension for our lead-up to the big event.

Now, we can correspond with most classmates via email. We've been able to launch people searches on the World Wide Web and find addresses for many with whom the locals have lost contact. Cell phone long-distance plans make it very easy to simply call those folks, chat a while and pass along some information about the event.

And, the blog craze has provided a great way to learn a little about our fellow classmates before walking up to them cold at the reunion. With advanced tidbits gleaned from our SHS1965 blog, we may be able to initiate some great conversations.

I've enjoyed most aspects of creating our blog except for the anonymous jerk who decided to post some rather cryptic, perverse messages. I guess, like most areas where the public has its chance to throw potshots without taking responsibility, there's always gonna be someone who adds some discomfort to the process.

Unfortunately, we had to take some measures to maintain the blog's integrity. So, we're moving on with posting information for classmates who've submitted bios along with their registration. As the person who types the information, I've already read some fascinating details about my fellow classmates (some--and you know who you are---haven't sent any information--thirty lashes!!! :)).

Anyway, it's hard to believe that people my age are already great-grandparents, when I haven't even reached grandparently status yet. Some spend most of their time watching the grandkids at the soccer, baseball and volleyball games. Some play a lot of golf, while others live in some great playgrounds like Palm Desert.

And then, there's the ticking heart that can be heard if we sit too close to one of our classmates. That knowledge tells me we've definitely reached that age where the body begins to function better with mechanical devices than with its original parts. I do remember the shock of seeing few hearing aids at the 30th reunion and a cane or two. So, the class-reunion blog is helping prepare me early so my mouth doesn't fall open with amazement at how old we're all getting.

There is ample evidence of the opposite, however. Some of our classmates are defying the odds or at least finding ways to make it look that way. At least two have told me they took up scuba diving in their 40s. One won't even be at the reunion because of a previous diving engagement off the coast of Venezuela, while another has taken her gear to Australia's Great Barrier Reef.

And then, there's the Harley crowd. At least two of my classmates own their own Harleys and have criscrossed the country with them. Another 1965 graduate spent a career flying for the United States Air Force; now he teaches our up-and-coming military pilots in San Antonio.

And so, the beat goes on, whether it's loud mechanical hearts or folks just pursuing every opportunity left in life, I have a feeling we'll have a lot to talk about when we get together next month.