It's Hard To Make The Good Things Last

By Wm. on July 5, 2024

Ten summers ago, my family and I got together with four other families in Gatlinburg, renting a large "cabin" for a week. Most of the adults, three spouses excepted, had known each other in grad school almost a quarter of a century earlier. It was the fourth time in seven years we'd met up somewhere, and unfortunately, we haven't managed to pull off a similar gathering since, mainly because of kids' summer activities. Now that ten of our eleven children are college-age or beyond, perhaps there's some chance the couples can meet up again one of these years.

I had packed several CDs with me to listen to while traveling and at some point on the return trip to KY from TN, I popped the Flaming Lips' Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots into our minivan's player. I'd picked up both Yoshimi and The Soft Bulletin just a few years earlier, I think because the Lips had started showing up in my Pandora feed. When it came time for track 9, "Do You Realize??," I got very meditative, thinking how time had indeed slipped by, how grateful I was for the ongoing presence of those other eight people—and their kids—in my life. I considered writing a sappy email to them, centered on "Do You Realize??" That, of course, never happened. In recent years, though, the five guys from the group have done a fair job of keeping in touch, primarily over Zoom bridge games.

This past weekend, there was a mini-college reunion at Natural Bridge State Park, a little over an hour away from my home. Altogether ten Transy students from the classes of '85, '86, and '87 attended, one of whom I don't know that I'd seen since the mid 80s. A few of us arrived Friday evening but most filtered in throughout the morning on Saturday. We'd rented the meeting room adjacent to the lodge's dining hall for the day and spread our photos and other memorabilia from back in the day on tables for everyone to peruse (a couple were amazed at how much stuff I'd kept, though I don't think they really should've been too surprised). It seems that as the years go by, the mental images I can dredge up from my college years grow fewer in number, and so I was pleased to have my memory jogged several times looking through what others had saved. A couple of examples:

--I still have quite a few copies of The Rambler, Transy's student newspaper, but not the issue from 3/29/84 my friend Pat had, where I got a byline about which I had completely forgotten:

This is one of a few dozen puzzles I created back in the summer of 1980 (the year you might guess from the title). I have zero recollection as to whether any more of my creations ran, or what anyone thought about this one. It was hand-drawn, so please don't assume particular accuracy in the sketch.

--My friend Suzanne created this for James, likely in the early fall of 1985 after we'd returned to campus. She got it back a couple of years ago when Judy returned to many of us things we'd sent or given to James long, long ago. I'll have to lean into this purported reputation as a music expert a bit more from now on.

(No, I did not actually own a copy of Rhythm of the Night. I will say that DeBarge's hits have grown on me over time.)

We went through the salad bar and hot buffet line for lunch, then returned to the meeting room to continue our conversations about both the old days and the present. Even though it was a plenty steamy afternoon, around 3:30pm half of us decided to hike up the 0.75-mile trail to the namesake of the park, a rock arch on top of a sizable hill. The walk was strenuous enough, particularly given the weather, but the payoff was worth it. When we arrived at the base, there was shade and breeze a-plenty. Not a bad view looking through the arch, either:

There's a (very) narrow path through which to squeeze to get on top of the arch. Shortly after we ascended, we were greeted by the rest of our group—they had decided to join us by taking the park's skylift up. After snapping a few pix and enjoying the panoramic view, each of us returned to the lodge the way we had come. Dinner was at Miguel's Pizza, a locally renowned establishment not far from the entrance to the park. The menu was quite varied, and the pizza I shared with friend Cathy was excellent—I think I'll be looking for reasons to go back soon.

Our reservation for the meeting room ended at 9pm, so around then we began packing up and saying our goodbyes for the evening. Most of us met for breakfast in the dining hall on Sunday before checking out and returning to our respective current lives. I couldn't help but feel more than a twinge of sadness as I got on the Mountain Parkway heading home—these were folks I had been around a lot for three or four years, and while I wasn't overwhelmed with nostalgia for that period of my life, I suppose I did feel the tug of memories and the recognition that these were people who once knew me decently well. I'm glad to know that I don't think this will be the last time we carve out time to gather.

After our graduation in 1986, a number of these same friends started up what we called a chain letter. We agreed to an order; the first person on the list sent something to the second, the second included that and their own letter to the third, and so on. (Oh, those pre-email days.) The effort foundered after a couple of attempts—one time something I'd sent never reached its destination. While many of us kept in touch one-on-one, it proved hard to make that feeling of community last.

On Sunday evening, I saw on Facebook that a couple I know in this phase of my life had attended a Flaming Lips concert in Louisville over the weekend. A short video clip included showed band leader and vocalist Wayne Coyne introducing "Do You Realize??" Some of the sensations I'd felt back in 2014, even earlier in the day, resurfaced. This time, though, I didn't fail to act on the impulse: when I got around to emailing a group photo from Saturday evening to the attendees, I mentioned the song. I noted how some of us had commented on how fast time has flown since our time at Transy and the difficulty in sustaining good periods such as that in our lives. And I did close with, "But looking at that picture…y'all got the most beautiful faces."