Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Happy anniversary to me!

A woman I know from high school had a status update on her Facebook page the other day saying that she had just been to the Linden High School graduation for the Class of 2009 the night before. Hmmm....I graduated in...let's see...1989 which means that it was exactly (or thereabouts) 20 years ago that I graduated from Linden High School. Holy guacamole!!! Well, A) What happened to my 20-year reunion invite? It must have been lost in the mail (which I'm actually okay with); and B) How did 20 years go by so quickly?? I mean, it was just like yesterday that I recall wandering the halls of Linden High as little Melinda Johnson among the sea of Italian farming families that make up good ole' Linden, California. That, and the Linden Cherry Festival every May where my best friend Melissa ran for Cherry Queen our senior year. That was a big deal. I remember helping her memorize her speech where she talked about her pig Iggy that she raised for 4H. As I recall, she didn't win but she should have. But I believe that she has recovered by now, so it's all good.

Anyway, as I pondered my high school days, I couldn't help but think back to some of my more notable teachers....Mr. Gregory from physics; Mr. Waters from biology; Mr. Miller, my history teacher who also doubled as the Linden High football coach (and looked like one too); and last, but not least, Ms. Niswonger - my typing teacher. I liked Ms. Niswonger because she kind of reminded me of my Grandma. But she ran a mean typing class. "Ready.........tyyyypppppppeeee!," she'd always say. Really, who knows if I'd even be able to write this blog post here today without her. I'm guessing they've ditched the typing class (with typewriters, anyway) at Linden High by now. Ironically, two of the teachers who were probably among the more instrumental in shaping my future (besides Ms. Niswonger), I can clearly see their faces but can't remember their names. First was my Spanish teacher (actually, I think I had two but I remember one in particular) who gave me my start in what would later become my college major and second was my yearbook teacher who helped spark my interest in journalism and writing.

Another class I recall that I actually did not take was home economics. I remember the classroom it was in and that it was a very popular class, particularly among the female students. I went in there once and there was a whole kitchen going on in there; and one of the most popular parts of the class was when all the students would have to carry around an egg for a week and pretend like it was their baby. Of course the goal was to not drop and break the egg. You know, so you learn how to not drop and break your kid later on in life. All I can say looking back on that now is...Wow! They may have ditched the typewriting class on typewriters - but I certainly hope they've ditched the home economics class. I could say more but perhaps I'll just leave it at that. Though, since I can't cook and well, I guess my child rearing abilities are still TBD, maybe a little crash course in home econ wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all.
But while we are on the topic of my 20-year high school graduation anniversary, in California many high school seniors celebrate their graduation by heading to Anaheim for a special "Grad Nite" (yes, that is how they spell it) at Disneyland where every night in June seniors invade the park for an all-night celebration. While I did venture down to Disney World in Orlando once fairly early on in my East Coast adventures, I hadn't been to Disneyland since "Grad Nite '89" until Jeff and I took Ian down just a few weeks ago for a long weekend at the park with my Dad, DeAnn, Summer, Addy and Emmy.

Disneyland is kind of like the U.S. Constitution. It hasn't changed all that much over the years, yet it still seems surprisingly current and relevant - so I have to give Disney some credit for that. But aside from that, taking your three year old to Disneyland is a bit different than going as a kid yourself or in my most recent case, going for "Grad Nite '89". First and foremost, I'm not sure if anyone who has been recently noticed, but that place is crowded. Not just a little crowded. A LOT CROWDED. I mean, if our economy is in the tank, you'd never know it by spending a day or two at Disneyland. Want to spend 90 seconds going up and down in a circle on flying elephants? (Because we did.) Wait 45 minutes. Want to spend a few minutes on a fake submarine ride (these days called "Finding Nemo" thanks to those branding wizards at Disney) where you can view fake fish and fake plants? Wait 1.5 hours. (Ian did...but we didn't.) Want to go on Space Mountain, the Haunted House or the Matterhorn? Forgot it...you only got to do those fun rides before you had young children in tow. Plus that was at least another two or three hours of waiting time and well, who has time?? Want to be sneezed on, coughed on, bumped into and stepped on by every man, woman and child in Southern California and beyond? Go to Disneyland! (And yes, I did come down with a cold shortly after we arrived back home.)

But yeah, yeah - you are probably thinking, "Well, um, isn't the point of going to Disneyland not really for you but for Ian, Addy and Emmy?" Geez, if you want to make it "all about the kids", I guess so. And the bottom line was that they had a great time. Besides just being in overdrive excitement mode over the whole experience, Ian was particularly in love with the Dumbo ride, It's a Small World, the Monorail, the Disney train and the breakfast we had with "Minnie and Friends" (except that Captain Hook...he wasn't so sure about him). And it's always nice to have a long weekend away from the grind and be able to spend time with family. Oh, and as a neat little bonus - perhaps in commemoration of another recent anniversary earlier in May - our approach flying into Orange County took us directly over Catalina Island and as we turned toward the coast just north of Avalon, it was just enough to clearly (well, as "clear" as LA air gets) see the Casino, the bay and a some of the town. We realized it was the first time we had even set sight on Avalon since we departed from our wedding. We pointed it out to Ian but he was more interested in his puzzle and fishy crackers, frankly. Oh well.

Until I write again.

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