June 30, 2017

What is a Bulldog?

The past several days I've been immersed in the work of finding Bulldogs.  It's not always simple to find a lost dog.  I wish I could just xerox a photo and staple it to a telephone pole for passers by to see and call my number.  I'm looking for special Bulldogs.  The ones who graduated in 1987 from Provo High School.  Through a series of unfortunate events I find myself the point-person to look for those of my graduating class. I didn't run for office during my Jr year, I was appointed by one person while I slept on eastern standard time and woke up to my phone sending me contact information.  At first I was surprised, but I think my appointer knew I would take this on and now I really have no choice.  I'm actually grateful for the chance I've had to catch up with people I once knew.  It's been a lot of fun along with a lot of headache.

There are many missing still.  Every time I find one I get so excited though.  I finally got smart and figured out via a tutorial from the inter webs how to scan a document and send it in an email to all the contacts I have in the system.  T was away at the time so I had to learn myself how to do it.  So that has been productive to get the Bulldogs working for me.  Still I'm like Oscar Schindler with a desire for more.  I must find one more!  Laundry, dishes, and grocery shopping are pushed aside while I scour the internet for missing Bulldogs.  The email pings and my heart sings every time a new RSVP comes in.  Is it a yes? A no? A maybe?  I respond with a heart/like and comment "YAY!" or some other word of encouragement to every yes, encouraging them to continue.

Looking at names I brush the cobwebs from my brain and remember myself in high school.  I read the comments in my yearbook that is old an falling apart (much like myself as of late).  I didn't know a lot of those people well, I just wasn't shy about asking for signatures.  My kids see how many I have and think I was popular.  I never saw myself that way.  I remember looking in the mirror and thinking "who even are you?"  I had a lot of hesitation as a teen.  I wasn't one to try out for everything or form a club.  As a 48 year old I am much more comfortable in much more skin.  I look in the mirror now and know that what I see matters much less than what I do.

The surprising thing is as I fill out my own 'Bulldog Bio' and decide what I will share about my today self with my yesterday classmates I realize that most of my interests had their beginnings in high school.  I was part of Mr Lindsay's high school choir and I didn't know then that I could sing.  Today I love to sing and I don't mind telling you that I have a decent soprano voice.  I learned to sew in home economics and that is a skill I still use today.  I look around and not many people today know how to sew, and I have Mrs Price to thank for that.  I am a bit of a francofile and love all thinks Franacais.  I finally went to France with my family for the first time last Summer and I thought often of my French teacher (for 3 years) at PHS, M. Burnah.  Yes he might have given too many shoulder rubs in class but he really knew how to teach French.  I love art!  Thank you Mr Jones!!!  I can spot a Matisse or a Van Gough from across the museum thanks to that man.  I still remember the slide show test he gave us where we had to identify artists from Picasso to Marie Cassette, Degas to Toulouse-Lautrec.  How Grateful I am to that man who inspired my love for good art.  Mr Rutter & Mrs Brown taught me how to write and express myself.  I'm still an avid reader and part of a monthly book club.  I might have been all of those things without those good people teaching at PHS.  But I know my life has been enriched because of those caring teachers.  So even though my photo is not on every other page in the yearbook with clubs I joined or offices I was elected to, I know who I am today.  I'm a Bulldog! Proud to be litter-mates with the class of 1987!  Beat 'em.... YA! Beat 'em.... YA! Beat 'em YA! Beat 'em YA! Beat 'em YA! YA! YA!!!!!

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