By last evening we were in Dayton for Dana’s class of 1960 high school reunion, which she always enjoys so much, even though they’re a bit strange for me. Come to think of it, she might say they’re a bit strange for her, too. The music was provided by a classmate who’d worked in Nashville with Barbara Mandrell. He played solo pedal steel with a funky percussion unit that ran off a floppy disk. I was having some trouble listening to his interpretation of Richard Carpenter songs, so I requested a Linda Ronstadt or Roy Orbison ballad. The closest thing he could come up with was Elvis, but Dana was too busy talking and we never did get to have our dance.