Sanity is Graded on a Curve...

I am fortunate enough to belong to a large extended group of friends in which there are friendships and relationships that span from 20 to 50+ years.  For the most part we have my housemate, John, and our friend, Steve, to thank (and/or blame) for keeping everyone together.  We have "reunions" every four years and sometimes sooner if there is a good reason (or even if there's not).  It really isn't hard to convince people to come to Montana in the summer.

The nucleus of this group comes from the drama department here at The University of Montana some 40 years ago.  Over the years the group has grown exponentially, adding spouses, partners, friends and friends of friends.  Sadly, we've lost a few along the way as well - although they are never too far away since we enjoy telling the old stories over and over again (particularly if we have lured a new person and thus a new audience into our group).

Clearly, we are no longer "new in box" but I fully subscribe to the theory that people remain the same age they were when you met them.  I also think that means that our eyes process some things through our hearts.  Alas, the camera lens does not.  I'll occasionally see a photo and think, "Who are those charming old..wait...oh, FFS it's us!?!"  

Given the people who make up this core group - there are, for the most part, two types of personalities: big and bigger.  The competition for the spotlight is tough and, in fact, constant - whether we are five or 75 in number at any given gathering.  The fact that we remain a people who think that we live in some sort of Judy Garland/Andy Rooney "Come on kids, let's put on a show" movie does not help matters either.  At all.

It started with movie remakes that John & Steve did in the 70's and then for many years, at the reunions, there was a Homecoming Queen Pageant/Contest.  These events lasted 3-4 hours.  The contestants, both male and female, had been announced the night before (from nominations). They were provided with pageant wear and once we got to the talent portion of the evening, unlike most beauty pageants where contestants can choose their own "talent": tossing fiery batons while plate spinning, playing "Rapper's Delight" on the zither, reciting a monologue from Ice Castles or Mother May I Sleep with Danger, etc. our finalists were assigned their talent. In all of the Homecoming Queen Pageants, a girl only won once, the rest were guys; one straight and the rest - gay (big surprise - they're ever so competitive when it comes to pageants plus they take their Queen status much more seriously).  Because there were often elements of danger involved in the assigned talents (tap-dancing on a table top while shooting nerf arrows at a target, for example) and we've reached a stage in life where it's all fun and games until someone breaks a hip, we stick mainly to musical numbers these days. 

We make up games - some of which have rules that constantly change.  Eventually we forget how to play them anyway.

One summer, we produced a play based on a Chekhov adaptation - in our yard (as so many do).

When we sit at large tables and a toast is offered - to those whose glasses we cannot reach, we declare, in our most mature fashion and best stage voices, "Mental clicking!"

And probably the main reason that we have held these relationships so dear for so long: sanity is graded on a curve.