Some thought it was crazy,
having a reunion on New Year’s Eve,
but there we were
decked-out in our finest prom gowns and tuxes,
platform shoes. corsages and cumberbunds.
The music was pure Soul Train meets The Stones,
but we still danced in that silly line, boy, girl, boy, girl –
doing the hokey-pokey just one more time
if only for the sake of reminiscing.
As the bewitching hour grew nearer,
I asked the waitress to bring us a bottle of Champale,
and a round of eight glasses, not the juvenile plastic we used to use.
Back in the day, we sported ourselves with this drink made in Trenton,
acting sophisticated and wise
while we got trashed and drove home not knowing if we stopped
at that red light on Main Street and Vine.
Ten, nine, eight, seven
hugs, smiles and toasting six, five, four, three
two, one Woo-Hoo!
We all laughed as we threw that bottle
and smashed the wall
with our glasses, not cups,
we knew our lives hadn’t changed much at all.
We exhanged addresses and phone numbers,
swearing we’d stay in touch,
but we knew that time, family and work
stood in the way of such.
Tonight, however, we were happy to be
in the same ballroom as that night in ’78,
hootin’ and hollerin’ until it was late
and the price for our limos was exceeding the limit
of cash left in our pockets.
Promises were made,
only to be said in politeness.
Hail to our class,
may this next year be fruitful and happy,
our bodies healthy
and may all of our soul’s be righteous!
-dld december 15th, 2010
* Tag line for Champale
the Muse is IN writing group: prompt #96 – Choose a sentence and keep going with it:
Laughing, we smashed bottles against the wall….
We hid beneath the shacks, small pebbles in our mouths …
I asked the waitress…
((I chose them two!!!))