I attended my 35th high school reunion this past weekend. Man, those people are old! The theme of the reunion was inclusiveness (my theme of kittens was rejected). Classmate Deb (a force of nature) and I co-chaired the event, and we sincerely worked diligently to be certain that all of our comrades felt welcome. Our efforts proved worthwhile as we had fantastic participation. Moreover, we were able to engender a feeling of closeness and common purpose (which was only slightly mitigated by my video revue that I hosted in my short shorts).

Okay, bring it back to Chappy, Brad (everything always comes back to Chappy). So, this reunion, and the tone therein, may not have possible without the influence that Chappy has on me. I feel that I bring a bit of our island with me to every situation. There is a learned compassion and empathy that comes with time spent on Chappy. Chappy is welcoming. Chappy is forgiving. Chappy is inclusive. We’ve found ourselves here within the comforting confines of our (sometimes) separate island not entirely by accident. Chappy shrugs its shoulders at conformity, whether it be in dress, architecture, or personality. There is no type on Chappy —one needn’t worry about fitting in because Chappy is Velcro-adjustable, one size fits all. Of course, we can then tailor Chappy to our particular needs, but we’re ever careful not to compromise the original integrity. Like my reunion, Chappy wants you —it may not make a huge fuss over you — but it wants you, and the next person and the next. Chappy is family.

In other news, Nef has informally proposed a nickname change for the venerable Gerry Jeffers. Presently, Gerry goes by many names (Angel, Rockefeller, Sir) all of equally accurate description. Nef, however, feels that Lightfoot may be a more apt moniker. There is a storied, somber, and honored tradition of the giving of Native American names (which I wisely will not attempt to explain). This naming ceremony (a conversation across the counter at the Chappy Store) is not one of them. Regardless of the lack of ceremony, the name is steeped in anecdotal history. One rarely hears Gerry come or go. He is simply there, or not there. Gerry is not a small man, he leaves a footprint, but somehow he manages to transport himself like a jay feather in the wind, alighting and taking flight without a whisper of notice. Please note, however, that this nickname of Lightfoot has not yet been approved by Gerry, so perhaps it is prudent to refrain from yelling “Hey Lightfoot” as you pass by Gerry until further notice. We don’t want you to end up on the wrong side of the Jeffers stare.

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