About 16 years ago, one of my former colleagues and his family came "home" for a visit.
Ron Talley (Thompson) had been working for some years in Washington, D.C.
But before that he had been a reporter at KPNX-TV in Phoenix where I was a producer in the news department.
I forget what the visit was about but it occasioned a gathering of old-timers at a jazz club, Timothy's, which was later torn down.
(Not as a result of our party, I hasten to add.)
Here's the returning hero with his wife and one of his daughters.
Ron told me that with that mop of white hair he was occasionally mistaken for Newt Gingrich in the nation's capitol.
A couple, at least, who were at the party are no longer with us.
My dear old friend, Bill Stull, sitting here with Roger Ball.
Bill was a chain smoker, as you can see from the ashtray in front of him, and he kept puffing right up until the day he suffered a fatal heart attack in the kitchen of his home.
One whose death surprised me was Bill Blannon (Blankstyn), who seemed to take care of his health, in spite of some of his wilder habits.
He's on the right here, with Roger and yours truly.
Bill also died of a sudden heart attack, I believe.
I'm not surprised by the grey hair or the receding hair on myself and so many of my friends of the 70's and 80's.
But I find it surprising that so many of us expanded our waistlines.
Maybe that's what retirement does to you.
