Universities, Reunions and Misplaced Niches

I just received a notice from a place that calls itself Longwood University inviting me to attend a reunion for alumni. I am almost positive I have never attended or been expelled from Longwood University. Management (my bride) and I do have a relationship with Longwood University. Our son spends most of his time there and we spend most of our money with them. Everyone involved, with the exception of those of us who write the checks, thinks this is an equitable situation.

I did attend Longwood College many years ago, starting in the early 70’s. At that time it was the State Women’s Teachers College. I received an excellent education. After several years of education, I decided to sign up for some classes and also received some education. I am certain I never attended a graduation but seem to remember receiving several diplomas in the mail. I have always suspected this was to prevent me from having any reason to return.

This reunion is for the decade of the 70’s. One of the questions they want me to answer is “My life since Longwood.” First of all, assuming I actually am an alumnus, is why would anyone who attended with me be interested in my dull life since Longwood.

Personally I would be more interested in my life during Longwood, since none of us who lived through the 70’s actually remember them.

My life since Longwood has been dull and boring. After graduation from Longwood I was employed by the State of Virginia
as a Rehabilitation
Counselor. I
enjoyed the job but professional
employment was a
strain on my psyche and my feet
since they required
I wear shoes. It
appeared I would
spend the rest of
my life as a counselor, get married
one day, be the father of 1.7 children, retire in 30 years and play golf.

One weekend as I was in Farmville wearing jeans one of my clients saw me and made the comment that I didn’t look like myself since I was not wearing a suit and tie.

I promptly resigned and turned my hobby beekeeping business into a full time job. It isn’t often you can make a living from a hobby and after 10 years of ups and downs, business was fine and the world was a beautiful place.

At age 29 a young lady took advantage of my age and senility and we were married. We were briefly successful, business was good, one child arrived and another one was on the way when the beekeeping industry collapsed and we were broke.

Management, who has dreams and delusions of financial security, became a professional truck driver. Since then I have made a living with “projects.”

Until the children (who are the by- products of our hobby) started school I took them with me on whatever job I was doing. There is absolutely nothing that can compare with the joy of warping young and impressionable minds. In spite of my early influence both children have matured nicely and appear to be on their way to becoming useful and productive citizens. I still don’t understand exactly what I did wrong.  I intend to blame their mother’s genes.

After beekeeper, I was a goat rancher, a ditch digger, electrician, well digger, property manager, and a few other typical boring things. For the past two years I have been drinking coffee at a local newspaper and writing a few columns.
My concern with this latest project is that people keep saying, “It looks like Averett has finally found his niche.” I don’t recall ever having a Niche, unless it is a sports car like the “Vendetta” I was accused of having last year. If I have either a Vendetta or a Niche, they are hidden in the weeds with the other cars and trucks I have tastefully sprinkled around the property for decoration.

If I ever decide to clean up and a Niche shows up I’ll let you know.