After getting all soppy in Grunow, I decided that I had best have some lunch and go return the car.

The cafeteria food was just as bad as when it was Cooper Food way back in the dawn of time, but these kids get soda! And chocolate milk! Spoiled, spoiled as rats, I say.

I sat at a table with Scott and Andi and a couple of others, and suddenly everyone was looking at the door.

"Look, it's Rob and Terry!"
"That's not Terry."
"It is, I'm sure it is!"
"You just think it's Terry because he's with Rob."
"Well, it's clearly Rob!"
"My God, could anyone change less?"
"That is so not Terry."

And then they left. And the mystery was on, was that, in fact, Terry? Rob and Terry were two of the coolest people in school, by far, my freshman year, and they were friends of mine. Okay, not really close friends, but they were part of a group of juniors and seniors that let me hang out with them when I was a freshman. I was always a little scared of Rob, he was so smart and sarcastic, but I was madly in love with Terry.

I really wanted to talk to them and tell them about a phrase on one of their comedy tapes that they made back then that I still say to this day, but I was too shy.

And besides, what if that wasn't Terry?

Then I had to return the car, as American Airlines only was letting me have it on their dime for 24 hours.

The guy at the desk told me to turn right as I exited the school, then go here, here, here, here and here. So I turned right and I'm driving and driving and driving and driving, and I'm seeing barns and cornfields. Barns and cornfields! I mean, I heard that the area had changed, but what I heard was that it was really built up, not that there were barns and cornfields. And cows.

I kept pulling over and staring at my maps and trying to puzzle out where the hell that I was. I was glad that I was on such a country road, that there was so little traffic that my constant pulling over and turning my flashers on didn't involve annoying other drivers.

At one point, the road I was on turned into a dirt road after a crossroads, and I was pretty certain that the road to town couldn't possibly get more country before it got more urban, but the name of the crossroad wasn't on my map. I decided to turn left, because I would be turning left if it was a street that I recognized, so there you go.

It eventually got more urban and less cornfield-y and I found the airport and all was well, but it took approximately twice as long as it should, which led me to believe that perhaps I had taken the scenic route, but I don't see how that happened, as I certainly can read a map.

Anyway, I found the Avis lot, parked and noted the mileage and level on the gas tank, and went inside.

This slightly surly pregnant girl appeared from the back room where she was clearly eating her lunch when I called out. She did not response to my jokes, though she wasn't mean, she wasn't exactly what one would call cheerful. On the other hand, were I twenty and pregnant and working at the Avis counter in the airport in Traverse City, Michigan and on top of all that, I couldn't finish my lunch, I wouldn't exactly be a barrel of laughs, either.

She printed out the return, and blinked owlishly at it.

"Are you sure that you wrote the mileage down correctly?"
"Um, yeah. Is it wrong?"
"This says that you drove 8000 miles."
"Ah. No, I drove about 340 miles."

So she went and checked my odometer, and found that I had written the correct number, which meant that the starting number that they had was incorrect.

"You have unlimited mileage, so that doesn't affect it, but that means that the gas charge is way too high."
"Would it help if I just go out and fill the tank?"
"You can't, because you have checked it in."
"How much does Avis charge per gallon?"
"$4.30."

So gas is the big car rental ripoff, ducks, always fill the car yourself! She couldn't get through to Chicago, so she said that it would just have to be fixed later.

Then I sat down to wait for the Crotchie to come pick me up.

Crotchies were what we called the maintenance men round the school, who did all the driving and building and fixing. They were usually big, barrel-chested men with beards and safety-orange vests. Lumberjack-types. Their opposites were the cleaning ladies, whom we called Wombats. Don't ask, because I don't know why.

I waited for an hour and a half, then realized that something had gone wrong. I called the school and discovered that my pickup had gotten confused, that they thought that I was going to confirm my pickup needs, so the Crotchie had been and gone already. They radioed him, though, and he turned around and picked me up around fifteen minutes later.

Or rather, she did! I had never seen a female Crotchie before, but here was this nice young dyke-y girl with a crewcut. We talked about what it was like being the freak at your job, and I can only assume that if the rest of the Crotchies are the lumberjacks that I remember, Li'l Phranc would certainly stand out.

The drive was much more urban, not a cow in sight, and I explained to her what I had seen on the drive over and she exclaimed over my finding town at all. As we got closer to school, I realized that I had actually gone wrong on the first step. The guy told me to turn right coming out of Interlochen, but he didn't mean the school driveway, he meant Corners, the crossroads to the Rest of the World, so I should have turned left as I exited the school and then right a mile later.

So I certainly did go the long way around.

I went back to the lodge, where Andi and Brad were putting on warmer clothes for the coming festivities, the group picture and the dance, both of which were to take place outdoor in the frigid air.

"I cannot believe that they are having the dance on the stage of Kresge (one of the two outdoor theatres), how are we supposed to keep warm?"
"You dance, sillies!"
They both turned to me and in shocked tones said, "Dance? We will not dance! We do not dance!"
"Of course you will, don't be ridiculous!"
"Dance, indeed."

Then, properly clad, we went over to the Bowl (the other outdoor theatre) and had the big group photo, then to the home of the president for a reception before the gala dinner.

Our group got our drinks and cheese and sat in the corner, watching people mingle. Andi turned to me and said, "It turns out that that guy from today is not Terry, Terry is that guy over there."
"What guy over where?"
"That one, the one in the suit."
"I don't see anyone."
"Here, switch places with me. Now do you see him?"
"Nope!"
"Well, it's him, I saw him with Rob today in the photo archives."
"But who's the other guy?"
"I have no idea."

After a bit we drove over to the dinner, apparently taking place in the teacher's dining room, a place I had never seen before. The food was surprisingly good, London Broil and mashed potatoes in a fancy shape.

Sally Ann sat at our table along with the Lodge Gang. She was a senior my senior year, and we knew each other, but had never been remarkably pally. We sure hit it off this weekend, though! It was great, making a new friend out of an old acquaintance. I did that last time as well, but that was before I had email, so keeping in touch wasn't so easy. She lives in LA, though, and I'm sure to see her and Andi at Christmas.

In the reminiscences over the London Broil, Sally Ann asked what had ever happened to a close friend of hers, and Robert answered that she was now partners with another former female classmate.

"You mean business partners?"
"No, I mean lovers."
"What! Wait a minute, on the address sheets I noticed that they lived in the same town, but...(rustle rustle) My God! It's the same house! The same phone number!"

The look on her face was hilarious. It was as though, well, as though she had just discovered that two former classmates had become lesbian lovers!

We had a rush to get to the concert, but Andi didn't want to miss it, because she was absolutely assured that Mr. Holland, who wasn't at the dinner, would be there, that he never missed an orchestra concert, not ever ever ever.

He missed this one, though.

"I'm never going to find him."
"Sure you will!"
"He's hiding. He's hiding from me."
"I think that you are getting a trifle paranoid!"
"I'm not paranoid, he's not here!"

The concert was great, first the chamber choir, performing in tuxedos and black evening gowns, as opposed to the dress uniforms from my time, blue polyester blazers, white turtlenecks and grey polyester skirts for the girls, white dress shirts and grey polyester trousers for the boys. They were horrible, but they were ours. These kids look like they are going to a cocktail party.

After the chamber choir, the orchestra performed, and absolutely put me to sleep. I don't mean that they weren't good, they were swell, but classical music, especially when there are alot of strings, is so soothing that I just conk out and hope that I don't snore. The second piece had alot of percussion and brass, so I stayed alert.

After the concert were two simultaneous events, the bonfire, which had been moved indoors to the Fine Arts Building ("We're burning down the Fine Arts Building?" "No, I think that the fire will remain in the fireplace."), and the dance, which had also been moved indoors, to JVS, the gym.

I wished that the dance had been moved to Fine Arts rather than JVS, because that is were we had our dances when we were here, but there is, strangely, no fireplace in the gym, so there you go.

We stopped by the dance, but no-one was there yet, so we went to the bonfire. I didn't expect it to be particularly interesting, toasting marshmallows in a fireplace, but just seeing Fine Arts was enough. You see, we used to have movies there every Saturday night, and every student has to have a job, and mine was that--helping pick the movies and setting up the chairs and things, so Fine Arts was my little hangout for awhile there.

I climbed up into the balcony and looked at everyone down there, the students eating marshmallows and chattering with the alumni, the two alumni who found some bongos and had started to play quite complicated rhythms, Andi and Brad spontaneously performing their rendition of "The Hollywood Production Code" complete with tap routine.

I guess I must have watched some movies from up there, leaning over the railing, my legs swinging in space, because it felt right, though I couldn't remember it really happening.

Today's horoscope:
Issues of discipline and self-denial emerge. Avoid over controlling yourself More errands or short trips and changes in the routine are needed. Be casual and flexible and you'll handle whatever comes your way.

One year ago today:
When one is invited to go soak one's head, the use of a bucket is assumed and therefor not spelled out.

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