This afternoon I reunited with four former college roommates. We had all lived in Toltec Hall, the residence dormitory on the campus of San Diego State University, circa 1965. I hardly recognized them except for one, Bill D., who served as the coordinator and link to the rest of our group. Bill is a nerve center and a talented musician.
One was a top secret engineer, the other a totally committed environmentalist, and our host a soul ready to blossom.
It seems to have been old homes week, because earlier this week, I received a call from a childhood friend who lived a block from my house in the barrio of San Bernardino (the Westside) way back when. He dated my first love’s best friend, Nancy, whom he ultimately married and with whom he had a good life. We will get together soon and reminisce.
I am trying to make some meaningful observations about getting old and how our perspectives change over time, but all I can think of is the fragility and shortness of life. It’s a good thing that I believe in the immortality of the soul, otherwise I would have nothing to look forward to or anticipate. I have no doubt that I will return as a … You have to read the book.
I will never truly know how these former college mates perceive the world, because exposing one’s inner belief system is not a common practice. They are all creative talented professionals. Yet who are they really? I ask that question of myself and others. Why? Because it is only through transparency at a national, state, and individual level that we can achieve true freedom.
It was great revisiting the past, oh Toltecans! I rode from one entry point to another and emerged. Free and clear.
Thank God for Tarastec Hall, the women’s dormitory next door. I would not have made it without the love of those beautiful and educated women, especially Carol.
Oh Carol, I am but a fool! Neil Sedaka.