Today is the last day of school. Don't you remember how exhilarating that day was in your past? A whole three months to play, have fun and explore awaited. This feeling is much like the one we old locals experienced in the late 1960s and early '70s when we first arrived in the Wood River Valley. I mean, let's face it, gang, we didn't come here to work—we came to play. Later, we continued to play, but not as much. We married and had children and had to become responsible. Now, our children have to move away because there aren't any economic opportunities for them to pursue. Things change.
My son, Harry, turned 38 on the June 6. He is now married and has a son and lives in Pennsylvania where he found work in the food industry. He went to culinary school at night and is now being promoted in his field. I called him on his birthday and he said, "Yeah, Dad, I just was made assistant manager and I'm going to roll over my IRA and invest it in major commodities." I said, "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number. I was looking for the 'peaceful warrior,' the front man in the '80s rock band who raged against the machine, the Deadhead." Harry announced, "That guy doesn't live here anymore." Things change.
I'm proud of Harry and how responsible he has become, but I gotta tell ya, I really loved that crazy boy with the wild, blue eyes and flowing hair who ranted and raved against the establishment. But, that's just me. We all have to grow up. Things change.
Well, at least some things remain the same. Winter includes May and June, ranchers hate wolves, Wagon Days still rocks, there's always Halloween on Main Street and Dave and Neil are pourin' drinks at the Casino. What? How's that? Neil's leaving after 19 years? That doesn't compute. Money management, you say? Has the world gone mad? He can't do a straight job because all he has are Hawaiian shirts to wear. He has no ties! What happened? Oh, yeah ... things change.
Nice talking to you.