Dig If U Will the Picture

How could I let a week end without posting a photo from Sadie Hawkins? Please note the generous use of props:

Brown jug
Guitar
Gun
Ammunition belt
Wagon wheel
Cowboy hat
Farming implements
Horns of some poor, hornless animal who never asked for much

I ask you to gauge which prop looks the most natural in Charles’s hand: the jug or the musical instrument?

Where the Beer Does Flow and Men Chunder

Bobby sent me several pictures in his email, and this one with Ricky and Vincent had the phrase "wine festival" in the filename. I showed it to my husband and pointed out that all three guys appeared to be drinking beer. He suggested, "Their wives dragged them to the festival."

I emailed that comment to Bobby, who replied, "It takes a lot of beer to taste wine." He also described how the high school friends have stuck together:

We still keep in touch with my best friends in high school, also from class of 1986, Vincent, Ricky, and Claude. We are a small mix of best men and groomsmen in weddings and godfathers to each others’ children. We still see each other often and have family vacations and even weekends together, even though we all live in different cities: Baton Rouge, Lake Charles, Atlanta, and Tampa.

Ohh, the stories now are even worse than when in high school. Somehow we all managed to cut the long hair and ditch the concert t-shirts. And thank goodness we no longer drink Busch beer. Almost any other kind of beer is okay though.

Young Man, There's No Need to Feel Down

I know you remember our class valedictorian; the president of the National Honor Society in our senior year; the amorous peddler, Ali Hakim: our Andrew. He sent me photographs with his wife, Elizabeth; Benjamin, 9 years old; Adam, 5 years old; Matthew, 3 years old; and Emma, 18 months old. I couldn’t decide between summer and winter because they’re both such lovely photos. Andy said the summer one was taken last August before Emma had surgery on her spinal cord (the operation was a great success, he added).

The rest of this post is Andy’s email about his life today:

My students think my life is pretty boring, but that’s okay. I don’t travel much (although we’ve had the opportunity to travel abroad some), and I don’t make tons of money as a school teacher, but I have a beautiful wife and four great kids who keep me busy. I guess my life sounds like something out of the 1950s: we do the Cub Scout thing and piano lessons, and I coach YMCA sports occasionally; I’m also active at church in the choir and helping with the children’s ministry.

What my students don’t always realize is that “excitement” is often overrated; the least “boring” year of my life was the year we spent in and out of hospitals with our daughter Caroline, who had been stricken with cancer. For eight months we battled, and we were greatly blessed by the many friends who helped in dozens of ways. While Caroline lost her battle in March of 2001, we know that she is waiting for us in heaven, and that is a great comfort.

If anyone had told me in 1986 that I’d be teaching, I might not have been too surprised, but if they’d added, “in a military academy,” I probably would have scoffed. However, it’s been an extremely interesting place to work, and the location, the foothills of north Georgia, is wonderful. I’ve grown more conservative as I age (but my students still think I could pass for 18... I guess that’s a compliment), and I enjoy the give and take of discussions in government and economics classes. I also had the opportunity to be a reader for the AP exam a few years ago--in Daytona Beach, Florida, no less! I guess it’s revenge of a sort for our own classroom struggles those many years ago.

I’m sorry I’ll miss the reunion, but I’d love to hear from classmates.

That's What Dreams Are Made of

I got the best email from Bobby this morning. The BEST. (Of course, he signs his emails "Bob," but I'll have to work my way up to using that.) There is just nothing I could write that will complement Bob's own words, so I leave you with his story:

Back in 1990 while I was still in school at LSU, I had a date with an ex-girlfriend from my Slidell High days, Samantha. She was going to school at NLU in Monroe for occupational therapy. We had not talked in about 5 years. We then dated for about another year and a half, and then somehow, I graduated LSU with a BS in mechanical engineering. (I know, only doctors are supposed to be in school for that long.) Then Samantha graduated from NLU.

We got married in New Orleans two days before Mardi Gras in 2004. My groomsmen took out full insurance on the tuxedo rentals, planning to go out into New Orleans, and I hardly remember seeing them at the reception.

Samantha and I lived in Houston and then Mandeville, and now we live in Tampa, Florida. I am an environmental engineering sales representative in the state of Florida. We have two beautiful children, Gabrielle 8, and Jake, 4.

I do miss New Orleans. There is too much sun in Florida and definitely not enough characters. Something about the Funky Crescent... We are really looking forward to the reunion and seeing all the friends we have not had a chance to keep up with.

Thanks for all the work everyone has done to make this reunion happen.

Blue Pants, Baby's Got Blue Pants

One of these guys is not like the others; one of these guys just doesn't belong. Can you tell which guy is not like the others by the time I finish my song?

Apologies to Elton John and Gary Osborne, as well as Joe Raposo and Jon Stone, who wrote the original songs that inspired the text of this post. Apologies to Zeke for any implication that he did not belong just because of pants color. He was, and remains, the belongingest belong of all Tiger belongs.

Because Your Kiss, Your Kiss Is on My List

Possible reasons that I have a lot of pictures from Grad Night:

We looked so good that we just couldn't stop photographing ourselves.

We had only days left as high school students.

We knew we'd want to look at these moments again.

We figured we'd only remember these moments if they were captured on film.

We somehow anticipated the blog age and its accompanying need for illustration.

I do remember things about Grad Night that weren't caught on film. I remember being in the hotel swimming pool at night, but only for a few minutes because I encountered Doug and Tim there. I remember Tommy climbing from one balcony to another. (I think we were on the fourth or fifth floor of the hotel.)

I remember Mike sleeping on the bus.

The Sun Would Set So High

You probably already know that our Tiger classmates now live in many different states. We can be proud of our representation in California with Raquel Lynn and Natalie in the south and Deborah, Michael, and Tim in the north. And take a look at the gorgeous Julie! This could be an advertisement in a magazine, for crying out loud. Julie emailed me part of her story last week:

After graduation, I went to LSU in Baton Rouge and then LSU Medical Center in New Orleans and received a bachelor degree in nursing. I stayed in New Orleans and worked for a while and then got the traveling bug. I landed in San Diego, California, in 1995 and have been there ever since. I love it. The weather is always great and it hardly rains, but we do get occasional earthquakes and mudslides. I currently work as a pediatric intensive care nurse at San Diego’s Children Hospital and I love it!

I visit New Orleans a lot. I was able to bring my husband, Chris (who is from Australia), with me to the last Mardi Gras (2005) before the big hurricane and he loved it.

My sister, Jayne, lives in Mandeville and is a dentist. She is doing very well. She said that some of her patients are Slidell High alumni.

I loved reading about Julie’s happiness, her important work, and especially her plans to join us at the reunion in June. You just read the name of the handsome man in the photo, the one I couldn’t help but notice is wearing the same outfit as Julie’s (so he’s heard of Sadie Hawkins). The handsome chocolate lab is named Jake.

You Make the Sun Shine Brighter Than Doris Day

Danielle Wilson and Lynnwood Bosch are two of the many great-looking people from our class. We know where he is; in fact, he's sent me hints on finding others. But we're still missing Danielle.

Until yesterday, I hadn't even heard anyone mention her name. Then I got an email indicating that she might be married to a state trooper and living in Colorado. This informant also said Danielle has four children, which makes me think you all need to form some kind of exclusive club. Founding members of the 4+ would also include Gail Barber Lloyd, Marty Bech, Andy Jobson, Andrea Mobley St. Martin, and Billy Viner. (Who else?)

My unrelated comment about this picture is that I've been admiring the quilt every time I look at it: not behavior I thought I'd have by our 20-year reunion (maybe our 40-year).

Take the Long Way Home

Dennis Parker was alerted by Ronnie Denham that we were looking for him and that we were admiring his senior portrait on the blog. He didn’t waste a minute in sending me an email and a photo of 12-year-old Deven and 8-year-old Kelsey. He says that despite his putting them to work in a mine two years ago, they are doing well, and we will see them all in June at the reunion picnic.

Only Dennis can tell the rest of his story in such a riveting style, so I leave you with his words for the rest of the post:

I did enjoy reading about Steven Parsons. When I graduated from LSU, I moved to Wilmington, DE (a few miles from DuPont). During that time, I also visited Raleigh on many occasions. I think Steve and I should have put on our leathers, jumped on our bikes, and cruised the coast. Anyway, I guess you want something about me (not sure why since I’m soooo boring nowadays).

1991: I graduated from LSU and got married to “the ex” (PR high school class of 82).
1992-1993: I attended grad school and worked at Ethyl Corp in Baton Rouge (and still had time to make kid #1).
Late 1993: I moved to Princeton, NJ, for Albemarle Corp.
1994: I moved to Wilmington, DE, and traveled relentlessly up and down the east coast and to Chicago a few times for the NPE.
1996: After the record snow fall (it was up to the door knob on my front door!), I moved to Dallas, TX. When I left Philly, it was 20 degrees; when I arrived in Dallas, it was 80. That put me in the mood for kid #2.
1996 and on: I spent time all over Asia (Japan more than 20 times, Singapore, China, HK, Philippines, Malaysia, blah, blah blah, etc and so on... boring).
2005: I remarried.
2006: I am expecting kid #3. (I'm too old, but ready or not....) I think it's time to move back north; the South is way too productive.

What else? I still love motorcycles. Last summer, I was up to three of them. Now I’m back down to one. I rode with about 30,000 other Hogs and such for Texas Charity toy runs (fun with a good purpose). I’m covered in tattoos now. My hair is down to my rear end, and I’m looking for a woman who won’t fall off the back of my bike. Geez, a couple of shots and they fall right off.

Just kidding! What little hair I have is nearly shaved, and I don’t have any tattoos (to speak of). We won’t talk about the falling-off part.

[Editor's note: Boring? Never!]

Do You Know What It Means...

I have lived in a few different cities, and I’ve fallen in love with most of them. But I’ve got a lot of this love to go around: my affection for the sparkling harbor waters in Sydney, for example, does not diminish the passion that burns when I spot the Golden Gate Bridge from a hill in San Francisco.

I have to say that here because Susan Whelan is a little peeved that I haven’t given New Orleans her due:

"I'm just wondering why Floridians have the special privilege of rubbing it in. What's so special about Florida? More exposure to hurricanes (of course, there's no bowl effect there) without the culture and charm of New Orleans (this coming from a girl who used to live in Jacksonville). I love the beach more than most people, but the food and music are way better here."

No one can deny the culture and charm that is uniquely New Orleans. Susan is a zealous booster who wants people everywhere to know that the city isn’t just hanging in limbo, molding and waiting for life to begin again. In fact, she can list a number of free concerts, annual festivals, and weekly art events without even checking a paper. If you want suggestions on the best ways to tap the energy and culture of the city for yourself, email me here because I bet Susan wouldn't mind my giving you her email address.

As is her custom this time of year, Susan spent a number of days (more than five, let’s say) celebrating Mardi Gras and St. Patrick's Day with her friends at the parades. Behind her and her friend in this Mardi Gras picture (click on it to see a large, vivid version) is the MAX band: musicians and performers in a combined band from St. Mary’s, St. Augustine, and Xavier Prep. Susan wrote, “I think this is during the Mid-City parade; the MAX band marched twice that day.” Yes, I’m assuming all those parades start to blur together after a while, my pretty friend.

Let's Go Make a Family

One thing I've noticed about the kinds of photos I receive here at Tiger Blog Central: the guys send me photos of themselves with their wives along with photos of their children; the women send me photos of their children. It's a broad generalization, but I make it to provoke you, especially the women. I want to see your gorgeous 2006 selves, and if you don't let me, I will post your senior portraits.

I present to you the Lloyd family! Gail Barber married Jim Lloyd from Northshore High School. They made Harrison, 15 years old; Connor, 12 years old; Taylor-Beth, 7 years old; and Manning, 5 years old. Gail is one of the many committee women making the reunion happen for all of us. (Harrison helps when he answers my questions on the cell phone while Gail is driving.) I think it's only fair to post this picture and wonder whether she'll wear something equally fluffy to the party on June 10.

Update: Gail sent me a photo of her and Jim in modern times! She didn't say that I had to take down the senior portrait, though. I bet that if I hadn't said anything, you'd never be able to tell which photo came from 1986 and which was snapped in the last moments of 2005.

Can't You Feel the Weight of My Stare?

Oh, my heavens: is Christina Simmers a smokin’ hottie or what? I about fell out of my chair when I opened this 80s photo from Stephanie LeBlanc. I mentioned it to Chris, and she said this was taken at a party at Mrs. Manetta’s house; maybe it was when we were juniors and she was on the yearbook staff.

My memory failed me when I’d apparently forgotten what a bombshell Christina was in high school. It is funny what I do remember, though: moments that are so clear I can almost smell the grass in the courtyard. During one lunch period, Christina pointed out a guy in a group standing on the sidewalk; we were in the opposite corner by a picnic table. She described the one she thought was cute, but I cannot remember his name today. (Alas, it is how my memory works.) The only problem, she said, was the way he held his sandwich. He ate it upside-down. She giggled when she said that just watching it drove her bonkers.

I’m not sure whether she ever told the guy about his lunching deficiency, but I am positive those guys knew we were talking about them. Why they didn't drop dead from the flattery of our attention is still a mystery to me.

I Know There's Something Going On

Photographic evidence that we are working for you: members of the committee met in Slidell last Saturday to prepare the invitation packets. Joanne Vis Sanders lined them up around her table; Laura Newton told them what to do and took these pictures. I understand the process involved an assembly line and child labor.

There have been no reports of illness due to envelope paste ingestion.

Oh, are you expecting me to give you names? Your hardworking reunion committee includes a lot of people, but the ones with paper cuts today are Joanne and Laura; Joanne's daughter, Sarah; Valerie Pollard Griggs; Jim Hennessey; Jim's daughter, Kaitlin; Maria Goodson Davis, Michelle Tonkel McDuffie; Georgina Rennie Ledet; Teri Barrett Sharpe; Tara Farris Zeller; and Colleen Holmes Neeley.

Loving Would Be Easy If Your Colors Were Like My Dream

I am catching no end of grief today from a coworker because I have on a green shirt. Tracy said she hasn't worn green on St. Patrick's day since the third grade. I say that something is wrong with her joie de vivre. I wonder if she has even a faulty joie de vivre. I bet that, had she been a Tiger, she wouldn't have worn green even on the days we had football games against Salmen and Northshore.

Now I'm also assuming that this Tracy has never experienced the delight of dressing like her date for a Sadie Hawkins dance--as have Lisa, Donald, Andrew, and Laura. By the way, I will never, ever tire of posting Sadie Hawkins pictures; there are more to come, and you are probably in one, possibly holding a guitar.

While I'm on the subject of Laura Newton, one of the first green stars of this blog, I want to thank her for the time she's spent preparing the invitation packets you should receive next week. Every piece of paper you will hold in your hand has passed through her hands, lovingly, tenderly, corner-roundingly. Thank you, Laura. Can we dress alike for the reunion?

I've Seen You on the Beach and I've Seen You on TV

Bill Herbert lives in Florida, but I don't know why he's rubbing it in. I've said time and time again that I'm living in Chicago where the snow is pretty for exactly 2 minutes before it gets run over or tread on by the masses of people who live stacked on each other like pancakes in apartment buildings where the heat doesn't come on often enough so your mouse hand gets cold while you're sitting at the computer.

Well, what I meant to say is that Bill's beautiful wife is named Lara. His daughter, Shelby, is 9 years old, and his son, William, is 6 years old. He's hinted that they will come to the reunion, which makes me all atwitter, but he's also said they might be moving in June, so he's not certain. Why he is playing with my emotions, I'll try not to analyze.

Maybe it's because I'm awake past my bedtime, but I'm starting to suspect a conspiracy among the "Bills" with their gorgeous, smiling families and their photographs in front of warm ocean waters. I'm going to try not to take it personally as I slide in between my flannel sheets tonight.

Shoot That Poison Arrow

I had a Large crush on Billy Viner when we were seniors. When he worked Friday nights at Revco, I would make Michelle and Spreaf ride with me to make a purchase there, usually Tic Tacs (the white or green kind: the orange ones are gross). I admitted this story to his wife, Barbara, when I met Billy's entire family for the first time last summer. She didn't beat me up because not only is she a lovely woman, but she is smart and charming too. And possibly nonviolent.

I am happy for Billy REALLY I AM AND I AM NOT JUST SAYING THAT.

Billy and Barb have five friendly and smart children. From left to right, they are Will, Brylee, Nani, Mykaylie, and Kaigan. We spent the afternoon at the Rainforest Cafe, and I got to sit next to Mykaylie on the end of the table closest to the tree-shaking gorillas. Brylee and I both ate pizza for lunch, and everyone shared a giant brownie sundae for dessert. I think I let the waiter refill Will's soda too many times (shhhh).

Nani and Kaigan sat at the other end of the table, but I got to talk to them both after the meal. In the gift shop, I pretended to bite Nani's fingers with a plastic animal head on a stick. Out in the sunshine, I asked Kaigan about the latest Harry Potter book. He was nearly done reading it even though it had been out only a few days.

I can't remember ever talking about books with Billy, even though we had English class together.

Good Thing: Where Have You Gone?

People! We are mailing the invitations in just a couple of days! Where in the world do we mail them for the following classmates?

Pam Taillac (that's her with the tassle in her hand)
Renee Tarver
Jack Terrillion
David Thomas
Jennifer Thomas
Brant Troyani
Ryan Vignes
Rolando Wade (update: found today! His parents said we could mail it to them because he's in Japan.)
Sonja Walters
Frank Ward
Sonja Watkins
Ross Weaver (update: found today! One of the committee people sent me his address.)
Chris Wilems
Danielle Wilson
Lacy Wright
Jerry Young

If you know them, or know someone who knows them, please spread the word that we want their mailing addresses. If you email me at krisfrom86@yahoo.com, I will give you my phone numbers to share so they can call me directly. (I don't want to post them here because it might tempt my fans to become stalkers; you know how it is.) Anyway, you can also promise everyone that I won't share or sell or spray-paint the phone numbers I'm given. It's all good.

Your Brown Skin Shinin' in the Sun

When I got home from work today, I found a box of photographs mailed to me by Annmarie Crochet Sartor. I've been sitting at the scanner ever since. Now I don't think that many people (men) will complain as I post picture after picture of the Swingerettes, but I have many days to fill between now and the reunion on June 10. If you mail me hard copies, I'll scan them and mail them right back. If you have access to a scanner yourself, just send them as attachments, the way Stephanie LeBlanc Sullivan did.

Goddess on a Mountain Top

Sara wasn't upset that I put her senior portrait here; she just suggested an update that includes her partner. She wrote me the following:

"Did I really look like that? I know it was the 80s, but good lord!

"This is Mary Jo (right) and myself in Denali state park, Alaska (summer 2005). We took a bush plane to base camp (directly opposite of Moon Blossom mountain pictured behind us) where all climbers begin their ascent. After a two hour tour of the park by air, our pilot picked up some climbers from Turkey who had been on the mountain for 21 days. They were stinky as hell, but incredible companions. It was part of an amazing trip."

(Click on the photo for a larger view: I do believe that plane is wearing skis.)

Sara told me even more good news when she wrote: she's received an offer for a permanent job to begin when her visiting professorship ends this semester. I think it means that she and Mary Jo will get to reunite after two years of living in two separate cities and driving 4 hours to see each other on weekends. And I swear I wasn't making it up when I said that Sara is sad she won't be joining us in June because she'll be in Europe instead. She ended by writing, "I wish I could go to the reunion instead of my conference."

Where the Streets Have No Name

Their streets do have names; we just don't know what they are. Can you help us find these people?

Lisa Ambert (Pictured here with a guy whose name I don't know)
Shari Baker (She had a sister in the class of 89, I think)
Lauren Biersner
Cynthia Binder
Denell Blackwell
Rebecca Blake (An earlier post had a photo of her)
Mike Bolander (We called a couple numbers with no success)
Benny Bruce (Isn't he in Slidell? Do you know where?)
Nick Bruno
Tammy Bryant
Ryan Buford (I've left messages with numbers I found online to no avail)

Invitations hit the mail in a week. We have to pay some money to the Gallery in a month. Can you believe that 2006 is speeding along like this? Do you know that I have less than 3 months to lose 70 pounds and to let my 7 facial piercings grow over?

I Hope That They're Not Laughin' Too Loud

Behold Lynn James Bennett, 18 1/2 years after marrying Mike Bennett. Now they have James, 15; Zachary, 14; and Chad, 12, and Lynn gets reports from Slidell High about how little has changed. (Something about Mr Trygg jumping on a table? What a wacky guy.)

We Were Young and We Were Improvin'

Behold Lynn James back in the day. When my friend saw this photo, she admired the hair under her cap, the effort it must've required to curl it back all around.

This scan is crooked, but we can forgive Laura Newton as long as she's precise in her work as a pharmacist. Heck, I'm just grateful for the time she spent scanning more than a dozen old pictures to share with you. Why don't you do it, too? Show me the love!

You Want to Stay Out With Your Fancy Friends

Does anyone know why we were required to dress up for Grad Night at the Magic Kingdom in Walt Disney World? (Click on the picture to see a larger view.) The guys wore ties and sometimes Miami Vice–style jackets with the sleeves pushed up; the girls could wear sundresses only if we wore jackets to cover our shoulders. I remember feeling peeved over the requirement but following it unquestioningly, lemming that I was at age 18.

But at age 38, I’m a lemming no more. My fashion choices now are daringly bland and sloppy! I’m not ashamed to tell you that I’m already contemplating how I want to look during reunion weekend, but the only recommendation worth considering so far is tattooing my face Maori style. That's from a friend who graduated in southern California, where they aren't self-conscious about personal appearance at all.

You're Wondering Who I Am: Machine or Mannequin

Remember how I mentioned that an "R Sullivan" was teasing me, sending me photographs from high school but refusing to admit her identity? She sent me clues, such as this picture of her son, Matthew. I also realized that she must've been in Keywanettes and on the yearbook staff because of where she'd wielded her camera.

But I couldn't figure her out. I just couldn't narrow it down, and even though she'd set up a temporary email account using "86grad" as the ID, I was beginning to think she was actually a spy from the class of 87.

In the meantime, I addressed another worry by posting a list of names of people whose addresses aren't yet on our list. I included the senior portrait I'd scanned of Stephanie LeBlanc, and, yes, you guessed it: that's the identity of our Tease.

Stephanie gave me undue credit by assuming that post was my way of revealing my discovery. I admitted that unless my subconscious mind had worked it out, posting her photo was a complete coincidence. Another coincidence, by the way, is that her husband and my husband were lab partners in Biology II at Bel Air High School in Baton Rouge. They dissected a fetal pig together. One more coincidence? Bel Air students are the Bengals. Want another one? Both Stephanie and I are brunettes.

I'd better quit now: I'm giving myself chills over here.

She Drives Me Crazy

First of all, can you believe any women so beautiful would debate me about whether to publish this very current photograph?

Second, would you believe that I just now spent 39 minutes on the phone in a three-way conversation to convince them of their blogworthy, timeless beauty?

By the time I get this online, Andie Mobley St. Martin and Maria Goodson Davis will be on their way to lunch. But I was only permitted to take this real-time opportunity to share a little mirth if I turned it into a contest. Which woman is the mother of this juicy little boy?

You're the Poet in My Heart

I love showing you recent photographs, especially of the children we Tigers are unleashing on the world, but let's not forget whence we came, the 80s. I present the senior stylings of Sara Warner. The good news is that Sara emailed us early, shared her contact information, and even bought me dinner during a visit to my city. The bad news is that we already know she won't be able to attend the reunion in June because of a schedule conflict. She told me to let you all know that she will miss seeing you even as she travels in Europe.

Like Raquel Noland Cail, Sara has lived in a few different places since leaving Louisiana. It was while she was enjoying success as a businesswoman in San Francisco that she began attending graduate school. In a matter of a few years, she finished a PhD and started a visiting professorship at an Ivy League school. What she feels about teaching, about building relationships with her drama students each semester: it's fulfillment. It's joy.

Sara isn't the boasting type: she doesn't know I'm telling you this. It's the joy I feel after hearing about her happiness that makes me indiscreet.

The Future's So Bright

Someday, Chris Bell, pictured here with his wife, Jolie, will tell his children stories from his school days. He'll talk about crouching behind the plate as a catcher in Tiger baseball. Perhaps his daughter, Paige, will say, "Okay, daddy. But how were you at soccer?"

Maybe his son, Peyton, will show the same aptitude for musical performance that his father did. And I'm not talking about Curly either: I remember Chris jumping on stage in the cafetorium to do the Bird as instructed by Morris Day and the Time. His arms did indeed resemble wings, the wings of a brave birdman who would lead his senior class as president and then go on to fight evildoers in Texas.

Our very own superhero has been keeping in touch via email and reading the blog, and if I don't pick on him too much, we'll see him and his whole family at the reunion on June 10.

Candy on the Beach, There's Nothing Better

Ronnie Denham didn't seem too upset by the stalker label I gave him earlier. After all, he still sent me this wonderful photograph of him and his wife, Stephanie. They live in Atlanta, but they love to travel, even visiting India twice before our nation's president ever did. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they'll save some vacation days for a visit to Slidell around June 10.

Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want

Stephanie LeBlanc, can I have your mailing address? Please?

Hey, we don't know where to mail the invitations for these people:

April Lane
John Laney
Tom "Big Mama" Lawrence
Joe Leap
David Levy
Anna Lewis
Sabrina Leland
Gary Long
Debbie Lybanon
Melanie Mailhes
Ronda Marbry
Abby Marrs
Flo Martin
Veronica Maynard
Kathleen McArdle
Melissa McDonald
Lisa Mire
Wash Morton

If you have any information about these classmates, well, for goodness sake, I'm not America's Most Wanted over here. Just tell me. I want to invite them to a party!

See That Girl; Watch That Scene

I am fascinated by this picture: I can look at it for hours. Are Zeke Riddle and Wendy Dye doing a dance? Are they doing the same dance? If one is leading or teaching the other, who is the teacher? The people in the background: are they clapping the rhythm of the song to which Zeke and Wendy are presumably dancing? I know there's no way to tell such things from a still photograph, but these are honestly my thoughts as I ponder this action shot. I have to wonder, I can't stop from wondering: is the dancing matching the rhythm of the music?

Michelle Tonkel McDuffie, who you can spot in the crowd in the background, commented to me about being pregnant at the time of the reunion party. (She is expecting her second baby! I know it will be as adorable as her first.) She said something about a pregnant lady grooving to 80s tunes on the dance floor. I then mentioned that comment via email to Tommy Griffith, who replied to the effect of, "I don't remember the class of 86 being very good dancers anyway; at least I wasn't."

Whether we were good dancers or not, I've decided it's utterly irrelevant, at least on June 10. My husband might pretend to be someone else's date, but I'll be out there, "dancing queen, young and sweet, only...." Well, you know.

Back on the Chain Gang

Valerie Pollard Griggs has been burning up the phone lines to find our classmates even though she is a busy woman indeed. Her sweet children are Peyton, who is 12 years old and in sixth grade, and Katy and Devon, who are 9 years old and in third grade. You might guess that this photo was taken on the first day of school (August 4, 2005) because they look so happy and excited!

Valerie has a husband, too, Jerry from the class of 84, but she wouldn't send me a photo of him. I'm sure he's a very nice man who spends his days proving that he is worthy of her. We'll quiz him at the reunion on June 10 just to make sure.

Cruel Summer

Doesn’t this picture make you wonder why the Swingerettes didn’t wear grass skirts all the time? I mean, Annmarie makes this look fantastic. And not at all itchy.

You’ll have to forgive me for providing so many shots from the senior luau: remember that I live in Chicago, one of the most un-luau cities on the planet in February. But I’m not the only one with luau daydreams because you keep sending me these things to share. The mystery donor who provided this photo has a name showing as "R Sullivan" in my email inbox. She won't tell me who she is, so I've been looking at all the R names on my master list, Rebecca, Regina, Ronda, Renee. I suppose it might be a "he," but right now, I'm just calling her "Tease."