I don’t know about you, but I already know who I’m going to vote for in the coming election. All the politicizing and internet bitching I see going on is just noise to me. I don’t watch the news anymore—even the Republican convention—because it’s not going to change a thing for me. It’s a waste of my ever-dwindling time. The decision whether to vote Democrat or Republican is ridiculously obvious to me. And it always will be. Until another party emerges that is to the right of Republicans, I will always vote Republican. I don’t even consider the Democratic point of view, because I know that party supports things I would never—in a million years—support.

I realize there are people just like me on the other side. They’ll vote Democrat no matter what. Fine. I respect that. At least they have an opinion. But who in the hell are these “undecided” voters? How in the world can you not have an opinion on the candidates, their platforms, or current world events? How clueless do you have to be to still be undecided? Either these people are complete morons, or they’re completely oblivious to what’s going on around them. It’s like trying to find a jury for the Michael Jackson trial. Like these high profile trials, the outcome of the election is going to be dependent on a small group of uninformed, slack-jawed idiots, who have no moral center and no convictions whatsoever.

What a poor situation for our county to be in… To be dependent on the undecided!

It was past 11 o’clock, and I was just making my way to the conference room at the Briar Inn to help the girls decorate for the reunion that night. They had already finished creating the table settings, so I took on the task of tying two balloons (green & gold) to the backs of every single chair. It was a simple decoration idea, but it ended up taking about 3 hours to accomplish. We ordered pizza and put it on the tab. They asked me whether I had any idea my Saturday would be spent doing so mindless a task, but I assured them that there was nowhere I would rather be that morning—and it was true. I really started hitting it off with Sarah, and I just couldn’t get enough of Maria—she’s a consistent source of joy and laughter. It boggles my mind why I never hung out with these girls during high school. I really missed out.

After the decorations were complete, we parted ways—some went to visit with Allison A. and her kids, and others like myself went back to our hotel rooms to take a nap. I watched the Olympics in my room, then took another shower & got ready for the reunion. It started at 6 PM, but I didn’t leave my hotel room until 6:30 PM. It was exciting. I felt like everything was just right.

I walked up the stairs and could tell there was a large crowd already gathered. When I got upstairs, the first people I saw were Donna and Ryan. I waved to them, but I think we all knew we’d seen enough of each other, and this was a time to greet other folks. After getting my nametag, I ran into Ryan W. and Aaron B. (a couple of Alderson boys). Aaron’s a great guy, and it’s always a pleasure talking to him. Ryan’s a bit crazy. The first thing he talked about was his plan for the 15-year reunion. He wants to do a pig roast, and do something more family-oriented. I just nodded and agreed. I’m not a family man, so I liked this 10-year reunion just fine. Aaron and Ryan are both married with kids. And that was pretty much the story the entire evening.

Before I talked to anyone else, I wanted a drink at the bar. I ordered the first of many Michelob Ultras (they eventually ran out because of me). One of the former drama/goth girls (I’m embarrassed that I can’t remember her name) was standing at the bar alone. She was one of those apathetic types, who looked down on all the preppies, jocks, etc. I could tell she was going to be lonely throughout the night, so I spent about 15 minutes talking to her. Thankfully, Devin P. was close by, and the three of us shared a few laughs. I met Devin’s wife and heard about their kids. Even though there was some questionable history between Devin and I (well, really between some of Devin’s close friends and I), we ended up getting along really well. We pretty much share the same sense of humor, so it was great to bump into him several times throughout the evening.

I’ll spare you the details of each and every classmate I talked with. But I did make an effort to talk to everyone—and I think I succeeded. I talked with the Alderson folks, the Lewisburg snobs (as well as the nice Lewisburg folks), the jocks, the hicks, the gossipy girls, the band dorks, the cheerleaders… Everyone. Nobody there will ever think of me as a snob again (which I admit I was during high school—well, not a snob, but very antisocial). I think there were maybe three other singles there—but Sarah was the only one I was really interested in talking to.

Sarah and I pretty much kept our distance until towards the end. I guess since we saw each other Friday night and all that morning, we wanted to socialize with everyone else. As the evening wound to a close, we found ourselves at the bar doing shots. Somehow, we made our way to the dance floor with Karen and Maria. Everyone had cleared out of the main room and was congregating in the bar area. The DJ (Maria’s husband Jeff) played a slow song, and since it was just a few of us in there, we all decided to dance. Maria danced with Jeff. Karen danced with her husband. And Sarah danced with me. The group that had been together all weekend—planning & preparing—had a dance to itself. It was nice.

Sarah knew I didn’t go to the prom in high school (in fact, it was a running joke throughout the weekend), so she hoped our dance made up for it. I said it did, and I thanked her for being my prom date.

As the last attendee left the building, those of us who set everything up stood there in the lobby, taking a moment to exhale in relief. I told them they should all be proud of their efforts. The reunion was fantastic, lots of people showed up, and everyone had a great time. Between the four of us (and our various partners/guests), we made everyone feel welcome & glad they came.

After loading the sound system into Jeff’s car, there wasn’t enough room for Karen and her husband, so I volunteered to drive the two of them home. I said goodbye to Maria and Jeff, then later to Karen. Sarah and I planned to meet back at her room (which was almost directly underneath mine). We would then figure out what we could do the rest of the evening. I returned to the hotel as quickly as I could.

We went to the bar adjacent to the bowling alley, because Sarah’s sister was there with the wild and crazy Stephanie B. We planned to keep an eye on them & make sure they didn’t get into any trouble. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the bar, we discovered the girls had just left. We had no idea where they went, so we were at a loss. First, we considered just staying there for a drink—but I’m glad we didn’t. As we left the bowling alley parking lot, Stephanie zoomed past us in her neon green Jeep Wrangler. There was no mistaking that car, so we followed it & flashed them down. It took a while, before they pulled over—apparently because Stephanie thought we were her stalker ex-husband. When we finally talked to them, they said they were heading to a strip joint in White Sulpher Springs. Sarah wasn’t into that at all, so we told them we were going to do our own thing. Sarah had a craving for a greasy cheeseburger, so we headed off into town to find one.

It must have been the ten beers I had during the reunion, but I didn’t figure out all the restaurants in town would be closed until we drove by Arby’s, Applebees, Bob Evans, and Burger King. They were all closed, because it was almost 2 AM. Sarah and I were disappointed we couldn’t sit down somewhere and have a burger together—not because we were hungry, but because we wanted to spend some time talking—just the two of us. All of the evening’s circumstances made it possible for us to have that time alone, and it would’ve been a shame to waste it.

I decided to pull into the high school on the off chance the security gate was open. It was, so we continued on. They’ve been doing some major construction on campus, so we were in awe of how different the buildings looked. The entire front of the main building was new & different. …So much for our memories! Still, something about being back at the high school was emotionally comforting. The student council president and the senior class president, parked in front of the high school following their ten-year class reunion…

We eventually left, and I took her back to her hotel room, where we said our reluctant goodbyes. She has a serious boyfriend in Morgantown, and me…well, I live in D.C. She invited me to come visit her sometime, and I told her I would. We gave each other a farewell hug, and she thanked me for all I had done this weekend. “You kick ass,” she said. And I left it at that. As I walked away, she repeated softly, “You kick ass.”

I wasn’t really in a rush to leave on Friday morning. I took my time getting ready and packing, and eventually left the house around 1 PM. But I still had to go to the bank, gas station, and car wash before embarking on my trip to West Virginia. Traffic was light, so I decided to go ahead and make one stop at Woodstock. I finished the trip in exactly four hours. I checked into the hotel, where the class reunion is being held, relaxed for a bit, then called Karen L. to find out what was going on that evening. She told me folks were heading over to her place around 7:30 PM. I called Donna T. and told her the plan, then headed out myself.

Karen and her husband have a great house in Lewisburg. She lives in a rich area with big $200-300K houses. If I ever had to live in West Virginia, I’d certainly be tempted to live in that area. Jennifer C. (who I hadn’t previously known—but wish I had) was at her car, when I pulled up. We said hello, then headed inside. The first thing I saw was a bunch of kids—there were a lot of them. Then I went upstairs and said hello to Karen, Maria R., and Kristi D. (with her boyfriend Will). We had fun drinking and catching up. Even though I didn’t really hang out with any of these folks in high school, we all seemed to get along well and keep the conversation flowing. Donna and Ryan showed up around 8:30 PM. I’d seen them this past Christmas, so it wasn’t as big a deal for me, as it was for Kristi—who was best friends with Donna in high school. She almost cried, when she saw her. Kristi & Will had to leave soon after, though, because they had prior plans to meet up with Devin P. and his wife. We took a group photo first, then just after their departure, Sarah C. showed up. I wish I could have talked more with Sarah, because out of the bunch, she and I were the only singles—plus she’s more attractive than I remembered her in high school (must be the hair).

After much talk, drink and listening to kids yell and scream, Donna, Ryan and I left and went to the bowling alley to go shoot some pool. We were kinda halfway hoping we’d run into other classmates there, but that didn’t happen. They were probably all at home, taking care of their kids. We played a game of 9-ball, which Donna won. Then Donna & I played Ryan in a normal game of pool, which he won. We spent a bit of time in the arcade. Ryan & I did a shooting game, and Donna kicked ass on Ms Pacman. In the parking lot, I gave Donna a Frontline CD (I brought about 6 to hand out). She and Ryan are both Christians, and they lead their church’s worship team. I think that’s why we hang out together more than with the others. We have a whole ‘nother aspect of life to talk about.

I got back to the hotel and watched FOX News until 1 AM or so. I just wanted to lie down, because my legs were still killing me from this week’s kickball/softball sessions. I told Sarah before we left that I’d go help them decorate the convention room this morning at 10 AM. I don’t have any other plans, so I might as well spend the day with the only cute single girl I know in town.

The thing about the Frontline sports teams is that the participants sign up for a reason other than to play the sport competitively. Because it’s church-related, members sign up for these leagues & view them as mini mission trips. They go there to have fun & be a good witness for Christ. They don’t go there to compete & play intensely. This is why the Frontline softball team is dead last in the league—and probably not even athletically worthy of stepping out onto the field. Athletically speaking, our team is about ¾ retarded. And it doesn’t help matters that our captain puts all the bad players in key positions & gets furious when we don’t play well (what does he expect?). I was in right field, and the ball only came to me once in two games (I caught it for an out, of course). Meanwhile, the girls in the infield can’t hold onto the ball at all. I’m going to ask the captain to put me in at short stop. We need a nice tall individual—who can catch the ball—in that position. We might have even won one of the two games we played last night. As it is, we’re 0-2, and we played against the second worst team in the league (next to us). So, it’s probable we won’t win a single game this season. Which is fine with me. This is the first time in nearly 15 years that I’ve played softball. I’m in it to learn the game, get exercise, meet new people, and hopefully represent Christ in a positive way. We just need a captain, who wants the same thing. Not someone who will stick out as the only mean guy on the field (on either team), then close us in prayer when the game concludes. What a great witness that is.

We lost to Your Team Bites last night at kickball. I work with one of their players at AOL, so I was hoping we’d win, and I would secure bragging rights in the office—but it was not meant to be. Mainly because half my teammates were already drunk before taking the field. The other team got a grand slam in the first inning, because our outfielder was too drunk to catch the ball. That ended up being the difference in the game. Last week, we had a bad fifth inning. This week, we had a bad first inning. Nothin’ like being consistent!

Anyway, their team was really nice, and we all had a great time playing the game—which is the whole point. So, I wasn’t too bummed we lost. Plus, they had a lot of cute single girls on their team, so I allowed some of them to get to first base with me.

…I play first base, see.