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It’s August 1992 – You’re Class Of 1982 – It’s Your Ten-Year Reunion – You Have A Vivid Imagination – You Found The Open Bar

Your Ten Year Reunion – They think you direct Music Videos – You think they became Trophy Wives.

MARS-FM (KSRF 103.1) Raechel Donohue – August 14, 1992 – Ellis Feaster Collection –

The last thing you did before graduating was fill out the questionnaire; “Where will I be, Five years from now?”

You had big ideas. You had big plans. You were ready to take over the world – and why not? You had all the signs pointing in your direction – you were going to be a howling success and nothing was going to stop you.

Ten years later, the cheery invitation to the 10 Year class Reunion comes creeping into your mailbox. Your High School Alumni was run by all the people who got straight on your nerves. They are curious – they have a questionnaire they want you to fill out; “Did you accomplish your plans from ten years ago ?” – of course not. But this is your High School reunion – you haven’t seen 90% of these people since June of 1982 – they have no idea you’ve been a Messenger the past five years, still live in the Duplex your parents own who live on the floor above you. Never quite got into UCLA Film School – flunked out of L.A. Valley College after writing one treatment for a screenplay you never quite got around to finishing, but talked a lot about. Still waiting for your ship to come in.

But the Alumni Association don’t need to know that. So you bend the truth around to the point of breaking – you take up entire pages, listing all the MTV Awards you’ve won – The Sundance Festival awards – the feature offers pouring in from Paramount – your promise to make it to the reunion if you’re not on location in St. Thomas. Even if you made this guy up you would love to meet him. You chuckle. You mail your multi-page prevarication in along with your check and plot your entrance when August rolls around.

Of course it’s coat-and-tie/evening attire, but you’re having none of it. You’re a world famous director and you’ll come in jeans and a t-shirt if you want to.

You spend an entire week’s worth of runs to San Diego on a limousine, which you get at a discount because your boss also owns a limo service. You time it so you pull up outside the Hotel Lobby just as all your classmates are milling around, looking at each others name-tags, waiting for the ballroom to open. Glowing from the sufficient number of jaws dropping on your way in, you amble up to the registration table and announce to the somewhat awe-struck former cheerleader that you’ve arrived. Seems your bio has become a must-read with your former classmates. Even the girls who wouldn’t give you the right time of day want to know all about you, peppering you with questions about Madonna and rumors about Springsteen. You are properly vague, but once you hit the open bar, you become the picture of suave humility.

Your evening as a complete fraud at your class Reunion has become a howling success – and you bask in the glow of bogus accomplishments until a week later when you come face to face with a receptionist at a Century City Law firm who stares holes through your bright red Messenger Service t-shirt. Busted.

Well . . she was busted too – since somewhere around her fourth Cosmopolitan she loudly confessed she was the wife of a very wealthy Real Estate Mogul who owned half the shopping centers in L.A.

Seems deception is very popular around Reunion Number 10.

Maybe you’ll give Reunion Number 20 a pass when it arrives.

At least you have MARS-FM keeping you company on your Messenger runs around town as it did this August 14, 1992 with Raechel Donahue for the next 2 hours.


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