On Sun, Aug 5, 2012 at 1:28 PM, Mount Lebanon <mtlebo1972@yahoo.com> wrote:

My sincere apologies.

If you have been following the comic 9 Chickweed Lane, you could use the nom de plume Uber Goober for myself. Also, you already have a current picture of myself along with another bio.

As my good friend who owns a publishing firm stated, "Both are factual, it is all in the editing."

And, I will probably be going. Just have to figure out how to reserve a room without a credit card.

Thank you for all the hard work.

Could you please identify the volunteers and get bios from them also?

Just another day in Paradise!!

Clueless with Women

Mount Lebanon <mtlebo1972@yahoo.com> autobiography.

Well, when Dad got a promotion and transfer to US Steel Headquarters, the whole family was totally bummed.  Leaving grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins for a town with a football team always in the cellar and a mediocre baseball team.  Mom and Dad picked Lebo for the school system, but the house we ended up in was so far from everything, I actually took the bus to Jefferson Jr. High.

 The best part of Mount Lebanon was seeing it in the rear view mirror as we left the day after school ended and spent the summer with my grandparents in Michigan.  We would reluctantly return every Labor Day.  Which is why I never considered participating in any activities like band, football, or baseball.  Add to the fact that I worked downtown Friday nights and Saturdays, and you can see why I never developed a social life in that huge school.  But I love Pittsburgh.

 Went to a college actually smaller than Lebo and earned a BS in chemistry.  As most jobs seemed to be in waste water treatment and bio hazard labs, I took a government job and was initially posted to Ft. Meade, Maryland.  Do not even think about asking me about the big black building with no windows.  There is No Such Agency.  Persistent quiries will force me to report you under the Patriot Act.  Nuff said.

 Went to such diverse locations as Ceuta, Spain,  Adana, Turkey, Petersburg, Virginia, De Ridder, Louisiana, (You really don't want to know)  and Samos, Greece to name a few. With visits to the elephant cages at Augsburg, Germany, and Brindisi, Italy.  Got married to a lady from Bermuda, and our beautiful blond girl arrived a few years later.  She is now 22 years old, and is in Texas working as a veterinarian technician.  A definite upgrade from training attack dogs for the government.  Her mother and I had a really nasty divorce.  Was estranged from our daughter for yers, but patched things up and my daughter and I are still family. 

 Having participated in Miss Sneary's Flower Drum Song, and The Music Man, I still have a love of music and theatre.  Artie Baker, Buddy Rich, or Dave Pollum for my jazz fix.  I have spent hours listening to the classics, especially when played by Barry Tuckwell, Yo Yo Ma, Jennifer Hartman, and Carla Craig.  And one of the happiest moments of theatre magic was going to 3 plays in one day in London.

 As one of the few people I would like to say hello to is now dead, going to the reunion is very iffy for me.  I have never lost touch with the first of many loves of my life, so that is moot.  And after searching for three years, I finally got hired as a janitor at an apartment complex for $10.00 an hour.  I have lost the house, and anything resembling a credit card in my wallet is a distant memory.   I went through 28 Google pages before I found a reference to myself.  So I have nothing to boast about.

 While time and circumstances have changed me in ways never contemplated, I can say that when it comes to the female of the species, I am still the same.  I haven't a clue.  I find them marvelous enigmas that I immediately put on a pedestal and worship from afar.  So ladies, you need to act.

Which means I am just as dense figuring out what signals are being sent today as when I was in high school.  Which explains getting my first kiss senior year.  And it is only rumour that I am the origin to the joke of a girl riding her bike on campus, finally getting totally frustrated at me, dumping the bike, ripping her clothes off and screaming "Take whatever you want!!"  Can I help it that the bike was a Cannondale?  And the car was out of gas?

 So if you would like to convince such a geek to come to the reunion, please drop me an email at mtlebo1972@yahoo.com.  Super-duper extra points if you have figured out who I am.