Artie, Artie. What ever happened to us? I went to the high-school reunion hoping you would be there. Then I heard from my former heart-throb, Mary, that you had collapsed while at your office, just three months before, a heart attack, you did not make it. Oh, God. What happened to us? Why did we not stay in-touch? What kind of life did you have? A good one, I hope. We were such great friends. You and I had our first illegal alcoholic drink at a piano bar in Wildwood. We had our first legal drinks at a sleazy bar on Times Square. We had told out Moms and Dads that we were going to be at the Judie Garland concert at the Garden State Arts Center. Instead we went to Times Square. We got to our respective homes and our fathers ask, each in their own way, "How was the concert?" "Wonderful", we both say, maybe even at the same point in time. It was the day and age before the invention of cell phones, the Internet, quick communication. We did not know, but our parents knew. Judy Garland had collapsed on-stage and had to be carried off. We were BUSTED. Oh, what adventures. And there were others. You know, Artie, don't you. How about that aborted trip the Woodstock? I can't even type this. My eyes are too full of tears. I hope you are at peace, wherever your are. What ever happened to us?