Stallion!

We made our way over to the East Village to visit and have a few drinks at Cooper’s Craft & Kitchen. We were able to get a table at 5:30 for snacks.  I enjoyed a Lager from Kansas City, sorry I failed to make a note of the brewery. I know…Rookie!

Then it was time to part ways until later in the evening. I had a nice stroll to meet Stallion and the girls were only a few blocks from the theater. I got on my high horse and headed down to Madam X to meet up with my old friend.

Using the GPS on my phone, I rolled up to my destination to discover this place was a basement bar. As I walked in, I first thought it was one of those places…

you know…N.Y. Ballet!

Strip Club folks, Strip Club.

The barmaid was very nice and began to laugh as soon as I spoke.

“You’re not from around here?”

“Yes Mama, I’m from Brooklyn!”

She wasn’t buying it!

I grabbed a brew and began to look at the décor. It was dark, big puffy vinyl seats in the back that just reeked of strip club without the brass pole. Then from the back I heard the voice:

“COOP!”

It was. Stallion! The last time I saw him it was 1997 at Camden Yards. He used to cover the Orioles.

He invited me to join him and a few others on the patio, I like a deck and patio as most of you know!

One beer lead to many, many more. He was wondering where I was heading too next. I told them about PDT and the city folk were impressed that this country boy knew so much about NYC’s night life. I mentioned to them that one friend told me to visit McSorley’s and another said not too. Stallion said; “If you’re this close you are going to visit.”

Once again we were walking, Stallion and I rolled into this vintage bar as the others had to grab a train for home. The beer selection was most interesting, dark or light. Which ever you choose, they brought you two mugs for $5.25. I believe we had 4 rounds of those. So much history that if you’re ever up there, you have to visit.

We settled up with the bartender and went over and met the girls. Stallion and I parted ways and it was so Awesome to see him after all these years. I assured him that I would be back and we would tear NYC up.

Now it was time for some craft cocktails, onward to PDT!

Reunions…Good Times As Always!

1988 our 5 year reunion. We were still just babies!

Rich & Cheryl with Patterson in the background. Where is he?

The 10 year reunion…I remember it being an “S” storm. This was the part of my life when the Dr.’s had complete control of me, I was miserable beyond belief and I was married.

The hardcores were making the circle that I remembered at the field parities. A bottle of Boone’s Farm would be opened, take a swig and pass it around. I remember Stickles going around taking up a collection and going to purchase more wine. 36 empty bottles were left behind. The story goes that we as a class were barred for life at the Moose Lodge. Like I said, a “S” storm.

I only attended 1 of the next 3 and that was the 20th in 2003. Tish and I had just moved in together and she hadn’t been around too many of my classmates. But if you’re going to be with a Strasburg man, you need to meet his family from S.H.S.

The 30 year reunion, we are aging well just like fine wine!

Just 3 years ago we celebrated our 30th , Margo had organized a picnic for the town park all the way from Portland, Oregon. We attended and we left around 1 and took Horton and his better half to Glen Manor Vineyards to enjoy the warm July afternoon and wine. A group assembled at the Depot Lounge and more drinks flowed. During this time a talk of a field party were discussed and plans were made. In Sept. of that year, we had a good ole redneck field party.

Now that a good group of us are on the social media’s, we make plans to meet more often. The Depot Lounge seems to be a good meeting place but I’m always interested in other options if one is suggested.

A good many of my classmates are now facing an empty nest. Although in Brenda’s case, she’s dealing with grandkids because she started way too young. Damn Granny.

Then a familiar face appeared on Facebook, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The last time I saw Joey was at SVP where a good number of ’83 worked and some still do. I heard rumors about him moving but I exhausted them as that. When I visited the Southwest in ’84, I never thought about looking him up. Then again I was with my Grandparents and they were keeping a tight lease on their grandson. I recently found out that Joey hadn’t moved out that way during that time. So all is well.

A year ago, Joey had posted that he was going to be at a conference in DC for a week. I reached out to him and asked if he would be making a trip to the valley. To my surprise, he was going to come and visit with family and we decided to grab a cocktail at the Hotel.

Joey came to town and we showed him a large time. Hey enjoyed so much he came back for more this year!

My phone began blowing up from members of the family wanting to know if they could join us. I’m all about a party. I coordinated with Joey and he agreed to the small group. I put additional info out to those who turn their nose up to Facebook. They were informed and some showed. I believe we had close to 20 folks show and we had a large time.

Over the past year, we have gotten together 2 other times and I truly enjoy meeting up with these good friends. I’m confident that if I needed bail money, I have plenty of folks to contact. With that being said, I’m blogging from lock up in Woodstock, I went streaking down Main Street this morning and I need some one to pick me up and bring me a towel.

Hmm…that would be an interesting way to celebrate my 60th birthday.

Add.

To.

Bucket.

List!

The End – June 3, 1983

 

By the way I am dressed, there’s no wonder I was a walking wedgie!

I spent my last day of school mowing the yard and getting the car loaded for the evenings celebration. The graduation ceremony was held indoors because of the early Virginia summer, it was hot and humid. Having to wear a shirt and tie along with the ceremonial gown was making a brother sweat. As the time approached, we were lined up on both sides of the hallway, I glanced down to see all of my classmates have smiles on their faces and out of a doorway came a group in similar outfits but in black. It almost look like a covenant of witches walking down the hall. The first face I saw was Mr. Hodson our Principle.
My Cousin, feeling his oats addresses Mr. Hodson as “J.D.” and proceeded to call all the teachers by their first name but one…Coach Proctor. To this day I refer to him as Coach or Mr. Proctor.

 

We were in and out in about 2 hours. As we exited the gymnasium and I began to hear the sounds of girls sobbing. Little did I know one those sobbing just so happened to my Cousin. Tears flowed and hugs were everywhere. As we met up with our families, we handed them our diplomas caps & gowns. I went and changed cloths and was told that if I was going to consume to stay at the field. I informed them that I would see them at sun up.

Hours after the event, my classmates were still hugging and tears still flowed. A few made plans to visit Ocean City, Md. the following week. I was scheduled to work at 8:00 Monday morning, so I maintained my composure and partied the night away.

A few of my classmates were only going to relax and enjoy their new freedom for just a short period. Uncle Sam called their number and they were heading off to basic training. Those who went to college, we would run into each other in town on the weekends and we would gather some where to talk.

Over time, some got married, some moved away, some stayed close, and some never left. But it so funny how we can go months even years and not see each other yet we live only 5 to 10 miles from each other. So much for the small town mentality.

When it was time for our 5 year reunion, I knew our class lacked funds to pull off renting a venue. Somehow, we were able to scrap enough together to rent the VFW in Strasburg and get crazy just like we did back in the day. The most important thing was…we still were a tight knit group and I can only hope in 25 years we are still that close.

My Classmates – The Series

I have a great group of friends.

But, I can’t really refer to them as friends. They are in fact family…The Class of ’83. 

In ’99, I only contacted one of my classmates. I was about to have brain surgery and the only one I was really close with at that time was Carter. He knew what I had endured my entire life, my seizure activity controlled my life and they were an embarrassment and I didn’t want to hear any pity from others. Maybe I was being selfish and just didn’t want anyone around, especially my ’83 family. Then again, this was about the time that I was in a bad place, I was married and I was not happy in my life. I was slowly killing myself with food. The amount of food I ingested in the early mornings after work was almost heart stopping. Then Dr. Edward Laws came into my life and changed me forever. 

It has been 17 years since I went under the knife and I have learned a thing of two during that time. Never get married. 

Always live your life like today is your last day.. If you ever had a grudge with an immediate family or a friend, resolve the issue and move on. Life is Too Short! Every Day IS A GOOD DAY!

When I reflect on my health issue, I believe that only one of my classmates ever witnessed me have a seizure. Nina had invited me to be her date to a wedding. The ironic thing is we were going to one of our classmates wedding…Jules. Now the day went well. I do not remember drinking anything. But the scary thing is that, I was driving and remember pulling over into a 7-11 parking lot because something wasn’t right. I have no recollection of the events that followed but I do remember seeing Nina’s face once I become aware of my surroundings. I was in the Emergency Room in Culpepper, Va.  

When the Dr’s and the state tightened the reigns on me, I had to rely on family and friends to take me to work and out to play. Horton, Robin-Ann, Cousin, Binebrink, Keller and a few other members of the family made sure I didn’t sit at home.  

Let’s fast forward to present time.

It wasn’t until our 30th reunion picnic that I discovered how close we really were. That little outing opened the door for many more down the road as a group or just a small gathering of a few individuals.

This series is about how we grew as kids and refused to grow up as adults.