Hey, you know what? There is no party like a Columbus party, because a Columbus party don't stop.......

Anywho, I love the idea of Columbus as a stomping ground for the first ever (and hopefully never ending) Chandre-Kotowski-Dudley-Jones-Quakenbush reunion.

I am, of course, asking for those of the hinterland (Linda, Tom, Tom) to develop a rough estimate of things to do. I have no problem driving through the bastard Illinois drivers to eventually end in a lovefest in Columbus.

As an aside, there are few places I hold in higher regard than Blacksburg, VA. I would like to lobby for that location next year. I have walked the Appalachian trail through the town, have many friends through my Charlotte years, and have general love for their college atmosphere and southern Madison feel. Yep, Madison feel.

As for Quakenbush, I have no idea. Hold me to nothing and you will not be disappointed. My son has begun contruction on some sorta dinosaur abomination to honor the first ever reunion.

LPs (records) our parents subjected us to

So the first topic is to get the ball rolling.

Outside of the emascalating musicals that dominated the LP collection, there were some true treasures that shaped our music loving (or lack thereof) futures. Below is the beginning of the list, please add

Kenny Rogers : Gambler
Michael Jackson : Touch a boy, errr, I mean Thriller
Jim Croce : Time in a bottle
John Denver : Rocky Mountain High
Air Supply : The complete guide to suck
The Commodores : ??????? (Sadly, the music used to concieve us)
South Pacific : The soundrack to South Pacific
Billy Joel : Uptown Girl
Anne Murray (from America's hat, Canada) : Songs of crap
The Carpenters : Don't pass the potatoes

As an aside, many of these albums have a warm spot in my heart. I still religously stop what I am doing and sing along with the drunk pilot, John Denver. I will forever love Jim Croce. I always thought that if Jim Croce could score with girls, I would have no problem. I will sing "for the longest time" while I'm filling my depends in a nursing home someday. And most importantly, I can recite every word of "The Gambler" with effective coolness.

Despite the non-sensical collection of LPs from our youth, it comes as no surprise that you look past the musical talents of the artists and point instead to the memories that are wrapped around each song. If I ever miss my parents, which I do often, I am only one song away.

As an aside, way to go cousin Tommy for singing the swear word in the forgettable Wings song when we put on our production in the living room. Looking back as a parent, I am sure there was equal parts pride and Miller Lite in our parents at the time to maintain the unflinching smiles they wore.

Special Kudos to dad. Way to rock out the oversized headphones of the day. Glass of wine and baritone in hand, you rocked out in a white T-shirt that would have made Arthur Fonzarelli proud.

Please add your memories as I am sure there are a plenty.