I’m partied out. It was three days of being a college kid again. Saw all kinds of old friends, some I haven’t seen since graduation day in 1989. Time does things to people: many looked exactly the same, maybe a little pudgier and a little balder. Some I didn’t recognize. I just smiled and hugged everyone and drank. Last call in Saratoga is 4am. Dangerous.
I fetched Laura on Saturday afternoon at Albany airport and she was immediately immersed in the mayhem. I don’t know how she does it. She just finished her last week of school, hops on a plane, crosses three time zones, and is dragged out to smoky bars to all hours of the morning. She’s a keeper.
The van was a hit of the weekend. It was a little overwhelming. It sort of became an unofficial mascot of the class of ’89. After a last breakfast on Sunday at Compton’s Diner, we hit the road with classmate Chris Heider. We deposited him at his aunt’s horse farm near Hudson, NY and started our journey homeward.