Clinton, South Carolina, Tuesday, March 12, 2019, 10:09 a.m.

I guess most people actually do have similar experiences. Class reunions. I’ve only been to one of those, the 10^th, and I made a spectacle of myself that I don’t regret much because I was much younger, and it was roughly what I was supposed to do at that age.

My weekend seemed pretty unique, though.

Thirty-four years ago, I worked in the athletics department of Furman University. Some people kid about being on “the eight-year plan,” but I graduated in four. Then I was a graduate assistant for a year, left for my first newspaper job and returned for three more years. In other words, I was at Furman for eight years in a span of nine.

A highlight of those years was the Southern Conference Basketball Tournament. I went there last Friday and Saturday. It was in the same arena, 34 years after my last previous visit. Perhaps you’ve heard of a sense of deja vu? I spent a weekend of deja vu.

Few were the people I knew. Some could have been children of people I knew. Several I knew from my two decades traveling the country to write about stock car racing.

I spent a lot of time studying. Some people I recognized but couldn’t remember their names. Some I knew the name but wasn’t sure it was the same guy.

Hey, is that so-and-so?

Nah. He’s dead. That’s the A.D. at Samford.

Oh.

There’s that slow realization.

Man, so-and-so’s getting old. Oh, wait. I haven’t seen him in 34 years. I’m getting old, too.

It’s not so bad with people you see every year or five.

One guy definitely looked familiar. I couldn’t tune in, though. I couldn’t get my mind off it. Then I was strolling around U.S. Cellular Center and saw him with a headset on, describing a game, and I realized it was Jim Reynolds, longtime (now) voice of the Chattanooga Mocs. I never got to speak to him. The Mocs lost. I’ll make sure to do so next time I see him. In 34 years.

I can’t remember the last time I went anywhere that wasn’t an assignment. A ballgame. A book signing. I earned my media pass by writing three blogs. I spent a night in a motel room for the first time in a couple years. It wasn’t much of a thrill. I checked in at 2 a.m. and checked out at 9. On Friday afternoon, I left Asheville for Knoxville so that I could drive through fog and rain to see a close friend play with a band. That led to the 2 a.m. check-in. It was a cheap room. All I did there was sleep, shave, and shower.

The basketball started at noon. The Paladins played in the last game. Then I repeated the drive through fog and rain, though this time almost completely downhill back to South Carolina. I wanted to stay in Asheville for the Sunday semifinals. I had to get home.

I work every day. I’ve been catching up ever since.

Asheville is a cool city. This was evident when I was looking at it from my truck through the rain. It’s less than two hours away. I should go there for more than just basketball.

The basketball was good, though.

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Lightning in a Bottle is now available in an audio version, narrated by Jay Harper.