I Can’t Get No Satisfaction Or Can I?

First, I was hugely annoyed that the scale was projecting once again an upward northern movement – 6 ounces to be exact.
 
Second, I was somewhat annoyed that the prescription for my high cholesterol meds was once again delayed. (I know, my priorities are slightly skewed!)
 
Third, I was annoyed that it took five minutes to figure out how to work the clasp on my new necklace – which resulted in me being late for my weekly lunch date with my friends.
 
Geez. Life is sooo annoying.
 
Then I got the e mail about Susie.
 
It came from Woodward High School – Cincinnati, Ohio – Class of 1965 and the subject was: In Memory Update. That always signals that one more of our high school classmates has passed on.
 
This time it was Susie – a junior high friend who I haven’t seen since our 10^th high school reunion. 
 
Shame washed over me. Being in good health, how petty that I allowed myself to be saddled with huge globs of aggravation over the minutiae of my daily routine. Geez.
 
Not only did my husband and I attend the same high school, but we graduated the same year. 
 
 

And how very lucky we are to have an active high school website, plus a valued chronicler keeping our huge graduating class informed of both milestones and events. Thank you, Mark Abrams. 
 
Susie’s demise jumpstarted me to do some digging – uncovering some stats on those of us who went to high school in the late 50’s and early to mid 60’s. 
 
We were the first wave of baby boomers, so the Class of “65 was huge – 760 of us. We were a diverse bunch – hailing from the wealthiest suburbs of Cincinnati to the less affluent parts of the city. We were black, white, Jewish, Christian, bright and not so bright. While many of us worked, after school, many of us didn’t – pocketing our allowance to eagerly spend at the new shopping center across the street from our massive school. 
 

 
The hourly wage in 1965 was $1.25
A new home cost about $21,500.
The cost of a dozen eggs was 53 cents.
The cost of a regular gallon of gas was 31 cents.
 
And here’s one of the most popular songs of that year – now heard on You Tube, sandwiched between ads – no longer blasting from a fat tube from which the records would drop down and play one at a time.
 
https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjWiI2kh-3xAhXlKVkFHcc3Ca8Q3ywwAnoECAUQAg&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DnrIPxlFzDi0&usg=AOvVaw33fijInlWYlWL6l-bSJgxE
 
Back then, I feel pretty sure that even with having just one phone, a mower you had to push, a black and white TV with only 3 stations, Lipton’s Onion Soup as our only dip option, not much privacy, no Internet, no swiping, no cell phones or no virtual reality that we muddled through and did “get satisfaction.”
 
And now? Fifty-six years later? Well there are no stats on our happiness quotient, our marriage status, our occupations, our income, the number of children and grandchildren we have. The President of our  Class didn’t become the President of the United States. Ditto for the Vice President. And in spite of high expectations, the class’s “CUTEST COUPLE” didn’t stay together either. My boyfriend actually married a woman who later became one of my best friends – but that’s another column entirely.
 

I like to think that each one of us from that very memorable class and that very memorable time did manage over the decades to “get satisfaction.” 
 
Many of us found that satisfaction by remaining in place. Two hundred thirteen of us still live in Ohio. But many of us spread out from the Midwest – reflecting the growing trend of the times to relocate. We are in 34 states, Mexico, the Cayman Islands and Washington DC. And the highest number of graduates who left Ohio now live in Florida, followed by California and Kentucky. 
 
At first, deaths of our classmates were from freak accidents or acts of nature. Increasingly, our ranks are being reduced by physical ailments and diseases. At this writing, 106 of us are deceased out of the 594 of us who are accounted for on the website. (Approximately 200 folks are missing – without contact information.)
 
Our class Motto was: 
                 ESSE QUAM VIDERI: To be rather than seem to be
 
I like to think that each of us, in our own way, lived up to that motto.
                                                                                                     
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
 
Iris Ruth Pastor