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| Members of the Princeton Class of 1973 - returned to "The Best Old Place of All" |
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| Room Mates reunited |
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| With good dog Ollie in Central Park |
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| Times Square - a long way from rural Peru |
I fully expected some “culture shock” when I visited the US. And to feel
like a visitor in my own country. Aside from the delight of having toilet
paper, toilet seats, soap and hand towels in all bathrooms and hot water at
every shower, and very little litter, I felt none of either. I felt very much
at home and quite comfortable in my homeland.
My dear sister Darcy was the perfect NYC hostess, whipping
up superb dinners and guiding me to the most precious parts of “her” Central Park. With the added accompaniment of Goodest
Doggie Ollie, we travelled the lesser known trails of this magnificent Park,
which has been restored to the grandeur of earlier times. Even more remarkable,
is that this bucolic green paradise sits amid skyscrapers on all sides. It
really has the feel of a small town park, though I expect that the many people
who knew Darcy and Ollie is due to her vivacious and out-going personality –
Park staff included.
We also went to see the new George Plimpton movie at Lincoln Center. I had forgotten just how many
adventures George had taken in. He lived in a rare world of celebrity and
spontaneity, which pushed both his ex-wives away. I was stuck by how much I resonated
with his spirit and life choices. “I suppose you could say I’m a collector of
experiences.” I’ll take a slice of that pie, ala mode, please.
Times Square had an alien
feel to it, which was perfect, since we went to see the new Star Trek movie
there. This was the first Imax, 3-D movie I’ve ever seen. A bit off-putting at
first, I gradually found myself a part of the movie – a voyeur, lurking alone
at very close range. The rest of the audience, and indeed the world, had simply
disappeared. More than a few smiles and heart-tugs, as the characters stayed
absolutely true to the personas of the original Trek TV series.
Suddenly, it was time to board the train to Princeton. It’s been 15 years since my last visit, which
made the “going back” all the sweeter. There were many other returning alumni
on the train, several already sporting Reunions garb. On the small PJ&B
shuttle train that goes right into the University, the preponderance of orange
had grown dramatically. Despite the profusion of new buildings on campus, the
place still felt familiar and welcoming, as I navigated to our 40th
reunion site by Dod Hall. And then, the real joy began.
This was not a reunion of handshakes, but of long, sincere
man-hugs. It was not a reunion of “Hi, good to see you”’s, but of real
conversations, connections and discussions. I was instantly reminded of what
extraordinary men and dear friends I went to college with. PG Randall is
teaching robotics and shaking up the teaching world. Jim Kelsey is engaged in
some brilliant writing and metal art. Chris Leach has started an online diabetes
magazine. Each of these, and many more, excited my imagination and elevated awe
of my peers.
The sheer logistics of these Reunions is awesome. Thousands
of returning alumni are fed, well and on-time. Reunion
tents and refreshments and under-graduate reunion crews spring up all over the
campus. Crews of students and grounds-keepers sweep the entire place to
pristine every morning. And it is all gone after 3 days. The 40th
camp was no exception and we enjoyed a brilliant dinner on the shores of Lake Carnegie
at the Boathouse.
A special treat was a lunch with my fellow Cottage Club
section. These guys and my room-mates were my closest friends in college. Ed
O’Lear did a brilliant job of arranging this private time for us. The place
looked great and really felt like home. We were treated to a Skype session with
our old club manager, Matty Glinka, now in his 90’s and too frail to attend in
person. He also created DVDs, complete with a customized cover of each of us at
graduation, with eclectic videos of graduation and the fabled “Boot Classic”
blow-pong match.
The cultural phenomenon known as the “P-Rade” has always
been intriguing to me. It’s a parade of strolling alumni and marching bands,
winding its way through the campus. The route is lined by alumni in descending
age order. Led by the oldest graduates and ending with the graduating class,
it’s like watching your life pass by in reverse. In earlier years, I noted the
general condition of each class and the increasing range of preservation with
age. This year, I found myself paying VERY close attention to the classes 10
and 20 years ahead of me, as if to glean some information about my future.
Tired Good-Byes were said and I headed back to New York and Miami,
where I was joined by my lovely friend Chris Clark. We did some shopping for
Angel, my Peruvian community partner, visited the Coral Castle,
which I last saw 50 years ago, enjoyed some outstanding Cuban and seafood, and
watched airplanes take-off and land at the MIA. I was really glad for my
Spanish abilities in a town where I heard very little English. Every
conversation at the Home Depot, for example, was en Español.
All my flights and security screenings were
uneventful and smooth, including a change of planes in Bogota,
Columbia. Lima was just as dirty
and noisy as ever and I found a large smile consuming my face, as I approached
San Luis. It was good to go home, and good to return home.
More photos at:
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