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Huge fried tenderloins. Yummy chocolate malts. Crispy onion rings. These are a few of my favorite things. And I found them at The Streamliner.

That's where I began my career in the restaurant industry. I left my first job at P. N. Hirsch, the department store across from the courthouse, to work for the Calhouns. I didn't make more money, but in addition to my $1 per hour wage, I got food. And for a growing, ravenous teenage boy that meant a lot.

Over the years some of my tastes have changed. I still love those not-so-good-for-my-heart foods, and I'm looking forward to eating them when I'm back in Rochester, Indiana for our 40th class reunion this summer. But time has a way of changing us. We grow up. We move on. Because we get second chances.

Those are my favorite things of all. One of my friends calls them "do-overs." In golf, they're referred to as Mulligans. Now, I didn't know Mulligan. I think he lived before my time. Because I'm fairly certain people have wanted—and needed—second chances since Adam ate the fruit in the Garden.

And that's why I'm grateful that life presents opportunities to us. They are gifts. And while it's true that we can't go back (and I'm not sure many of us would want to), we sometimes wish we could "make things right." Unfortunately, such chances are rare. But fortunately, we can "pay it forward." Perhaps we can't undo what we did or do what we should have done, but we can encourage others. And that's my favorite thing of all.

Remember When

May 25, 1969. Graduation Day. Forty years later I still remember. But only bits and pieces. Caps and gowns. Tassels turned. Cake and punch. Presents. Photos. Hugs and handshakes. Laughter and tears. Goodbyes.

I still have my senior cords. I still have my class ring. But somewhere through the years I lost my Spanish Club pin and my yearbook and some people I wish I'd known better.

I doubt that anyone knew Dave Shore would leave us so soon after that day. If they did, I didn't. That's one of my regrets—that being so insecure, I isolated myself. But while I don't want to forget what I didn't know, I'd rather remember what we shared.

Bonfires and pep rallies. Homecoming. Football and basketball. Tennis and track. First dates and first kisses. First jobs. FTA. A Cappella choir. Tri Epsilon.

I remember the musicals, especially The Unsinkable Molly Brown. Years later I performed in "Molly" again, in the oldest continuously-running Little Theater in America. Still later in life, I wrote and directed and produced plays and founded a community theater.

Some of us followed some of the paths we were on in that year. Others went off in new directions we'd never dreamed of. Where have your memories taken you?