Dateline 1988, somewhere in San Antonio. The shaggy guy in the green shirt and ever-so-fashionable glasses is me.
Ten years later, at the Class of 1988 reunion. Tiffany and I had been married for all of three weeks at the time.
We’re at the 20-year reunion this weekend. Photos, memories, adult beverages, introducing the next generation to each other, all with (mostly) better hair. It’s a beautiful thing.