The years melted away as I approached Children’s Playground in Golden Gate Park – walking down the familiar trail from Stanyan Street near Haight where I’d parked – carrying a brown paper sack with chips and salsa and my Beatles purse. I wore the orange and yellow tie-dye shirt that my son Stevie and his girlfriend had gotten for me in Thailand – no size on it, Stevie just guessed and he got it just right. Honestly, I’ve come to the realization that my own sons know me better than any guy I have in my life! I found myself wishing that Stevie and his girlfriend Liezl were with me now, as I walked past the dried up lake and through the tunnel past Children’s Playground which now breaks my heart because it’s now completely remodeled and no longer resembles the wonderful playground I remembered playing at all the time when I was a kid – the big round slide is gone and sadly the moon swings are gone as well – deemed as too dangerous. All that’s left are some lame play items designed for small children and not any kid I can think of past about the age of 6 or 7.
But the trees that surround the park still look the same and so does the historical Sharon Building and the merry-go-round, oh yes the old merry-go-round still remains thank heavens! So if I look in that direction, it’s as if 40 years have melted away.
As I looked around the area for a large group of people, I began to feel more and more nervous. It’s no big deal, I thought – it’s been 35 years after all…
I was looking for the big picnic next to Children’s Playground – the class of 1975 and other 70’s classes high school reunion picnic for George Washington High School in San Francisco. I’d never been to any of the reunions, so I had no idea what to expect – my first reunion ever…but I was glad at least it was in an informal picnic-like setting and I didn’t have to get dressed up and wear some weird cocktail dress or anything – I wore my tie-dye, the brightest shirt I could find – and jeans – cool-looking jeans for once, not like in high school when I didn’t always wear cool clothes…
Hey wait a second, I thought – you’re a grown-up now, who cares about all that stuff, like what they think of you, what you’re wearing and is it cool? I mean, really…
I had to laugh at myself as I looked over and Hippie Hill hearing some conga drums – a small group milled about there. I knew that group wasn’t big enough. Somehow I knew where they’d be – in the picnic area above the merry-go-round, the same area where I’d ride a skateboard down the hill as a kid so many times and the hill we walked or rode down to get to Children’s Playground from where we lived—and now for the first time ever, I’m going to see some of my classmates from high school, many of whom I haven’t seen for 35 years. I’ve only kept in touch with a small handful of people from back then.
I saw the large group of people and smelled the barbecue and the balloons, and I knew that was my group, the 70’s people – still so vibrant and ethnically diverse as they were in high school. I felt nervous, as if I didn’t quite fit in as I walked past people, some of whom nodded and smiled as I walked by. They all had sticky name tags on, “Ruth, 1975.” Yes, I recognized Ruth right away – she looked almost exactly the same as she did in high school – I think she was the “class clown,” and she still wore the same clothes she wore back then, it seemed. How cool – so many people…do I really belong here I thought? I’d always felt sort of like an outsider looking in while in high school, and this seemed no different.
It was warm, kids ran around with hula hoops, a group of guys played conga drums and barbecued chicken and hot dog smells floated through the air – everyone looked as if they were chilling and just having a good time. Suddenly someone yelled, “Group picture, c’mon everybody, especially class of ’75!”
That’s when I saw Mark a dude who had just befriended me on Facebook who had seen me at Woodham’s – he’s friends with some of mine apparently and I didn’t realize he was a GWHS alumni as well, class of 1973. “Hi, good to see you!” he said, hugging me. Wow, this is kinda cool – Mark wore his hair long – he looked exactly like the kind of guy I might have hung out with in high school, one of the cool, down to earth people. We talked for a few before being whisked off to a small hill to get our group picture taken. How would any camera fit in this huge group of people, I wondered, plopping myself down right in the very front – so I’d be seen…I had never felt seen in high school, and now there I sat front and center.
After the photos, I walked around, seeing people who looked vaguely familiar, others who didn’t. I bought my raffle ticket, paid my five bucks and went for the food --- so much amazing food and drink. Rita Marie, one of the organizers, looked familiar to me and she said, “Hey didn’t you sing in high school?”
“I was in the chorus, yes,” I said. “I remember you – you sang alto like me.”
“Yes! Wow!” Rita stood up and gave me a hug as if we were long lost friends – that was cool, especially since I was still attempting to remember who she was, feeling bad that it hadn’t hit me yet.
I walked around listening to the groovy 70’s music playing on a loud speaker, singing along with “Betcha by golly wow, you’re the one that I’ve been waiting for forever…” even though it was classified more as popular music than anything else.
Mark, the cool hippie musician dude, came back over and stood around with me, along with a guy named Tony who also looked really familiar to me – we all three talked and that’s when I saw my son Stevie and his girlfriend Liezl walking up the hill – yaaayy! They’d made it. I was so happy to see them. Stevie had his digeredoo and his drum with him, just like he said he did and his hair is long again – like when he was a teenager. He fit right into the rather diverse group of people.
Slowly but surely I began to recognize more people and they me – there was Bruce Jolly who totally remembered me from several classes – and wow, Julie. I remembered her.
But the right of passage moment, that special moment when I finally felt as if I’d done something I’ve been wanting to do for 35 years, but had never had the guts to do it, came a little later. In high school, I had just watched, on the outside looking in and I’d always wanted to do it.
When a group of my class of ’75 classmates started doing one version of the Hustle to disco music, I jumped in and did it with them – and then I danced the Soul Train dance and another version of the Hustle and well – it was fun and later one chick even said, “Wow you’re a dancin’ fool out there, how cool.”
And Carli Jones, the prettiest girl I remembered in high school, was there – still looking beautiful 35 years later. We immediately recognized each other because we had lockers right next to each other in junior high. “I always thought you were beautiful in high school,” I said to Carli as my son Stevie snapped a photo of us.
Carli smiled and said, “Well, you still have the hair that I remember – wow, did I want your hair!”
That to me was the ultimate compliment – me the wallflower girl hearing that from Carli Jones.
My mom is second from the left. Her twin is 3rd from the left.
We did not take our dogs up to Grandpa's, we like to enjoy our visit. I think there were 4 dogs, this one being the smallest, the rest are labs, and goldens.
There was plenty of this for Kerry. I'm such a good wife, I went to the liquor store and picked up beer for him. I also set off the security alarm, just like I did at Walmart the day before. The lady at the liquor store did not do what the lady at Walmart did and ask me rather loudly if I just got a new bra.
I'm trying to come to terms wit the fact that even though I like to photograph anything and everything, and I get some pretty decent shots, I may never have 'perfect' photos of my family. I get ones like this....
And like this....
But then I take my super cute cousins outside and I get ones like this...soon-to-be Dr. S. So proud of her! She's studies more than she breaths.
And this...Silpada wearing, wine glass toting hotness.
I'm thinking of offering my family money to pose for pictures!
I was heading out to check the cherries, and maybe take a few pictures, and I saw this on my lavender. I took a bunch of shots and then it flew at me and I was done.
"We" washed the van, really, I sprayed it, not Kerry approved spraying and then I took pictures. But I did wax it. Which always brings a good dose of "Wax on, wax off".
I went with these two down to the lake and then we walked around until one of them dried off. He made a friend, a woman from Ontario, whose dog was just put down. She thought he was the cat's ass. He was so tired he just leaned on her and let her pet him. Then we told Kerry that was enough, and took Linus to the bird sanctuary. He was so tired, he made the best dog ever. Sally was at home loving the solitude.
This is what tired that big boy out. He starts out like this. He's pretty slow moving. He's got all day.
And he ends like this, taking on water.
I did a little, very little gardening. My beans are getting big! Well, the plants are. I haven't seen any bean buds yet. I did find some teeny tiny zucchinis!
The poppies were nicer a few days ago. 
I used one of my Grandma's 'antique' buttons on the cover. So if you sign up for the class, you won't get a button like that. I took the pictures with my new lens, SOOC, and I love the first one! 
I love it so much. Is it weird to make a mini album of people we've never met? Yes. Is it weird that I want to keep it? Yes. I told Amy I'd send it to her after the class. But now I'm thinking I want to keep it. Just kidding, Amy, I'll send it, later.
*names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Sunday we went to the Father's Day Show and Shine. We have different tastes in cars. I had read an article in the paper about the Nissan Evo. I think there was one there last year. It wasn't there this year, but I made sure Kerry knew that I knew that it wasn't there. Seriously, I don't know what one even looks like but he thought I did. I like the older cars. He likes the Porshes, Shelbies and other Mustangs. I want to touch them, the smooth paint, the leather, but most cars have signs asking you not to touch them.
I like the details too.
I told Kerry I'm taking pictures of the cars I like, if you see something you like, tell me. So this is his 'like'.
And this one too.
But this was both of ours. A woman was walking around the bike to go somewhere else and her daughter says "Mom, people are trying to take pictures of the bike!" The woman stopped and posed with the biggest smile ever beside the bike and her daughter had to tell her that no one wanted a picture of HER!
Baracuda! Nash Bridges drove one. I have wanted one since then. I miss that show. And even though the Baracuda is named after a shark and kind of looks like one, I'm still okay with that. It's got a super big hood, and I once saw Nash Bridges slide along the top of it. I think Cheech was already in the car waiting. Side note: My uncle has a charger or a challenger, I can never remember, it's burgundy but really dark burgundy, and I always remember from when I was about 5 yrs. old that it smells like Pina Coladas. He's had it since it was new, I think.
We see this Suburban driving around and it makes us nostalgic for the one we had. That thing was huge!
This truck was so shiny and sparkly. I try not to talk to much when we are looking at the cars so that I don't embarrass Kerry. "Ohhhh...shiny and sparkly. Stand there so I can get our reflection. It's like chocolate cherry truck. I wanna lick it." I just say it in my head.
And then we came home and smoked a brisket and had our parents over for dinner. Go BEEF!
