Has it Really Been 10 Years, Cece?

While re-reading Lisa Birnbach’s TOPH, and reminding myself that I need to marry a Junior so I can deem my future son Tripp, I lament the fact that my alma mater, “Pennsylvania’s venerable Germantown Academy,” was mentioned in the similarly-voiced Tipsy in Madras in the same sentence as Oprah. (Wait, Bunny. Has it really been 10 years since our graduation? I immediately place an order for anti-aging lotion and pour a heavy-handed Cape Codder.) The book’s reference was to reading lists given by prep schools, which leads me to recall a certain paper received while sitting around a Harkness table inscribed with initials and other musings from bored students, surrounded by a dozen well-dressed classmates. (I believe it was Sweater Vest Wednesday, a personal favorite.)

I had written an essay on Cat’s Cradle, which, much to my surprise, had nothing to do with cats. My musings on the deeper meaning of felines playing with string were thus utterly futile. The comments on my paper read simply: “This book was not about cats. C.” The passing grade was likely due to Daddy dearest being a beloved teacher in the same department. When I told him later, Daddy bragged about a college paper he’d penned on Moby Dick that was lauded as the single best his professor had ever read. He’d never bothered even thumbing past the table of contents. Like father…

Yes, there were some good times at dear old GA. Sadly, the ivy-covered stone buildings have been replaced by modern mammoths of glass, “environmentally sustainable spaces that retain the stone-clad charm of their proud predecessors.” (You’ll excuse me, but we preferred to expel our students behind those “proud predecessors.”)

I don’t maintain relationships with a majority of former classmates, but I’m hoping “overserved” is the upcoming reunion’s course du jour. If someone doesn’t spill a good bit of gossip along with their G&T (really, now, that’s light on the tonic, Charles), are you even at a prep-school reunion?