Comments
Charlie West
I particularly want to speak of one of our reunion breakout sessions, that on the "Specialness of Mozart," or something like that, as described in the reunion literature. A normal-sized classroom in the Music School (our, what?, two-hundred-million-dollar baby) was jammed to overflowing, bent and gray-haired 56ers and doting spouses standing three deep around the periphery. The lecturer was wonderful, defining genius in half a dozen ways and not failing to allude to Milos Foreman's excellent "Amadeus" of a generation ago. But a flagrant miscalculation, this small space, of aging in America. It appears that very many of us have discovered, in addition to unlikable politics and other distractions, a great liking for Mozart. Certainly including me.
Cheers.
George Berman
The AYA staff were wondrously helpful. It seemed they could not do enough for us. When it rained (of course it rained) there they were, handing out ponchos and umbrellas. Maps, extra bedding, message boards, extra copies of this and that -- all were available in an instant.
The truly magnificent part of this reunion was the warmth and inclusiveness of our fellow classmates. As undergraduates, we shot the bull about paths we had not yet traveled. This year, we returned to tell of our journeys, and every tale was different, every tale was fascinating.
It was not difficult, however, to note the different toll each of us has paid. Some were seriously debilitated, most were a bit stooped and gray around the temples, the rest of the noggin being bald. But a few, notably Perce Chubb, must have their own Picture of Dorian Gray at home, absorbing the wear and tear.
In summary, I found the reunion to be a formative experience: I returned home committed to making the most of playing the back nine holes.
