The Denver Post Article

by Mark Lucker

My twenty-year high school reunion was this past July. The following is the text of the speech I was not asked to deliver. It’s a sort of one-size-fits-all-77's missive.

"Who was in charge back in 1977? Remember Jimmy Carter? Four years and gone, just like us. I can relate to Mr. Carter; he and I were a lot alike, in fact. The word "mundane" comes to mind for a lot of you, I'm sure. But truth be told, Jimmy and I had similar four-year runs; each was nondescript, and eminently forgettable for most people. We each had nice smiles, his being more pronounced than mine. But history being the great equalizer that it is, we are both now beloved and revered for our works and deeds "after the fact." Ironically by many of the same folks who were deriding us back then. Don't snicker at my Jimmy Carter analogy; we both gave it our best shot, each leaving behind a legacy of indecision and benign attempts at greatness. But enough about my paucity of dates.

"Twenty years. It doesn't seem possible in many respects that it has only been twenty years, with all of the changes we have lived. Remember the high school computer room? Third floor, right off the stairs. Two big IBM's that took up the entire room, and still used PUNCH CARDS to supply and retrieve data. Now just try and explain the concept of what a punch card is to your kids or multi-colored hair twenty something co-workers. This will quickly define for all concerned the term "generation gap."

"Phrases we never used - never HAD to use back then: "Where'd I put the phone?" comes to mind. You always knew where the phone was, 'cause it couldn't GO anywhere. Probably fifteen of 'em in peoples pockets in this room tonight. We never used "the" in front of "remote" back then. Remote was more a facial expression during finals week than a noun. On the other hand, have you MIMEOGRAPHED anything lately? But don't you miss the smell of those purple inked sheets?

"Our first day of high school was September, whatever, 1974. Most of us guys were more concerned with growing hair on our chests than on our heads. Not much of a leap, is it fellahs, from DECCA Club to Hair Club For Men? At least the lapels are narrower, for most of you guys, anyway; but the punch bowl posturing is about the same. Well, almost. Most of us guys can now actually converse with those that we want to. Most of us, and to most of them; er, YOU! Male egos are still a pretty fragile thing though, so I must ask all of you women out there to be very careful: the heart you are breaking could be mine. Again.

"Show of hands time, gang; "made out" with anybody lately? At least, who among us still calls it that? And who amongst us still thinks that a kiss is never better than when accompanied by the lyrical squeal of vinyl car upholstery. Hell, besides Kirke Fox, who here still HAS vinyl car upholstery?

"Music. They still call it that anyway. We grew up with brother and sister's hand-me-down forty-fives of THE BEATLES and SIMON AND GARFUNKEL. JAMES BROWN and BOB DYLAN were old timers to US, and now they are hip again. Any SEALS AND CROFTS or BARRY MANILOW fans here tonight? Any CHICAGO or CHEECH AND CHONG groupies? We DANCED to Saturday Night Fever and… K.C. AND THE SUNSHINE BAND?! Whew. DISCO INFERNO, baby. And that about sums that up!

"Movies. We had THE STING, SHAFT, JAWS and STAR WARS. CARRIE and THE EXORCIST were a gruesome pair, and they were still making PINK PANTHER movies, too. Now STAR WARS is back, and our kids think its cool, so there just might be some hope for our progeny after all. On the other hand, I have a cousin who is a college sophomore, a business major. One of the favorite dorm activities for his crowd is to get together with some friends, buy some beer and watch SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER! Some of these whiz kids even dress like their favorite characters in the movie, and afterwards they play S-N-F trivia. Go figure.

"Hey! Remember that new TV show, SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE? M*A*S*H* was still going strong when we graduated, and so was Archie Bunker. Political awareness and satire on television! Now there is a concept worth taking a peak at. Closest thing today is C-Span.

"Three little letters, thrill seekers and fun devils; M-T-V. Our cultural equivalent? Eight track cassette tapes, of course! COOL. Bring your own music with you in the car - what a concept that was. (Even though you had to play the whole damn tape to get back to the one song you liked and it took you three days to hear it again.) But the really cool ones among us had those ever-popular F-M converters! Wayyyy cool, those little gizmos. Now our kids have more audio capabilities right in their cars than your average Stones concert. Sigh.

"Back in junior high, do you remember the hubbub about whether or not we should be allowed to use calculators in class? Today our kids use laptop computers, some about the same size as our "pocket" calculators were. Your kid gets detention, and he can fax you to not microwave his dinner as early. We got a trip to the vice-principal's office for passing a note; they can download clandestine e-mail while a teacher is sneezing.

"But as much as things may change, as much as we like to think we were somehow so unique, we are not. The things we have experienced, the innovations we have seen, and the advances in technology in twenty years have been wondrous things. But the fact that we have seen and lived and facilitated change hasn't. Boldly we have blazed new trails, just as our parents did before us. We just went in different directions, and in different ways than they or we ever dreamed. They could make the same comparisons with them and their parents. It will be much the same for our children, who are now thinking about their lives and futures the same way we once thought about ours; about what it holds in store for them, and for us. None of us are al that unique in those regards, we just believed that we were. And our children who think themselves so different from us? Well, twenty years should set THEM straight.

"Of course we are in some ways unique: we are the Class of 1977. We have twelve stepped, step parented and parented our inner children. We are learning that it takes a village to raise a child, and we now live in a true global village, accessible in nanoseconds from most any point on the globe to another. We live and love and gripe and whatever at a much faster pace than we ever did in our halcyon days of secondary enlightenment. We talk a lot about stress, and have discovered more variations on coffee than there are species of insects. And we have started complaining about most everything and everyone, and talking more and more about those proverbial and epochal "good old days." And so it goes.

"Looking around the hall tonight, it appears at first glance that the median age of the serving staff here is approximately fourteen. Not exactly like looking at our yearbook pictures, is it? But I tell you what; the night is young, and so are we - at least til the stroke of midnight, provided we can all stay awake that long. It's time to hit the dance floor and let the memories fly. Let the music take you back, kick the present into voice mail, and let the good times roll. I'll warn the serving staff now; clear those tables, then stand back, because here comes the Class of 1977. Come on gang, let’s show 'em all how its done!

"Oh yeah. Let’s try to not hurt ourselves, O.K.?