The Years

For reasons which I do not fully understand, I slipped under the radar for many years and have only recently got back onto the mailing list for my old school's newsletter. The fact that I have been out of commission for so long means that the photos included in the latest issue come as quite a shock to my innocent gaze. The shock is compounded by the second fact that my school closed down shortly after I left some 45 years ago, meaning that almost all the photos are of my contemporaries. Isn't it extraordinary how the years treat some of us kindly whereas others are quite clearly the worse for wear. I need hardly say which category I fall into...

I see that the Annual Dinner this year is being held at the East India Club and that the asking price is £63, which seems rather a lot even if that does include wine - unless of course they're throwing in a cabaret with Norman Wisdom for the price?

Why don't I go along? I don't know, really. I wasn't very happy at school but I suppose that's true for a lot of boys. I had some good friends and some of the masters were pleasant people. I think it's just a question of missing the boat. A gap of 20 or even 30 years is OK, but 45 years? I think that's verging on the obscene, don't you!

But it's very nice finding out how my old friends are getting on. In the unlikely event of any of them reading this, and in the even unlikelier event of their remembering me, hello to all of you, dear friends. And I hope you've been keeping well in my absence!

This issue of the newsletter is, in my opinion, particularly remarkable for a beautiful letter from Hugh Wooldridge (not a contemporary). A special word,too, for Guy Bailey (I'm not sure that I know him either) who edits the newsletter with great tact and diplomacy, never putting himself forward. Sounds like a nice man.