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Joe Goldman
Dear Wade, Paula, Merry Ann, Margaret, Meredith, Randy, Mitch, Patrice, Mavonne, Bonnie, and Megan:
The amount of work you nine no doubt did the past twelve months was huge. You wrote countless emails (right during one’s business work day, that must be answered quickly), made phone calls, and coducted loads of evening meetings when one could have been home relaxing. Add to this the personal work each of you hammered out, both during the day or, no doubt, during the evenings as well, on the various sub-projects that each of you took on to make a weekend that included so many events. It is too much for us to even know.
The measly two words “Thank you” simply don’t give back enough from all of us beneficiaries for all the effort you put in, let alone great success of all aspects of this past weekend. But I feel I speak for every single one of us when I say THANKS A MILLION JILLION, ZILLION…..we don’t do squat, and all of you do a ton, on a purely voluntary basis, no less. Not only are the events great, but realize it: you nine accomplish a thing far, far more valuable than just making fun parties. You keep us together! You nine are the glue that keep a group of people from forty years ago connected, in many cases renewing and recommencing old friendships that damned well need to start up again. And they do! The emails start between us, the phone calls, and I swear to you, the visits as well. If that all isn’t golden, I do not know what is. Without you, poof, 99% of the personal relationships we created at NTE forty years ago would have been lost to the wind, decades ago. What a debt we all have to you.
The sole tough thing about reunions, at least for me personally, is the Sunday afternoon when they’re done. Poof – all the great people, all the great excitement, the uproarious laughs, the deep, deep, sometimes overwhelming affection shared at seeing an old friend with whom you should have been staying in touch (but don’t)….suddenly, it is Sunday afternoon and it is all quiet. Talk about a sense of withdrawal, my word. It is like going from 100 m.p.h. to zero in but moments, socially speaking.
I think that I am not the only one who wishes, however absurdly, that one could somehow capture a lot of the great vibes and even the people themselves into a bottle, and uncork that baby at times during the year when you would just kill for a bit of the excitement, and the great zing that comes from the intense sense of friendship from a set of people from way long ago, people who shared life with you in some very formative and yes, some very great years, despite the miasma of disgust experienced walking into a driver’s ed class, a gym class first period, algebra that Albert Einstein himself would have avoided out of sheer terror, and for the most blessed of us all, breakfast club.
What can I say – thanks, thanks, and yet thanks again for your twelve months of ongoing work each week. And let me point out that each event went great. You tore the cover off the ball in terms of the crucial details, the logistics and the special touches. Every darned thing worked flawlessly. The rest of us merely sat back and enjoyed every minute of it, while all of you were keeping an eye on the many behind the scenes elements that needed preparation, watching and work itself. We NTE ’74 gang are so lucky to have you. Please, please once again give us your magic dust for the reunion five years from now, 2019. For me, it is mentally on my calendar already.
Muchos gracias, merci beaucoup, danke schon….you get the idea.
Wishing all of you and yours reading this post nothing but the best in happiness and health the next bunch of years,
Yours,
Joe Goldman
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