It’s class reunion time. My 50^th. I’ve really enjoyed being on the planning committee, although it has been odd getting used to the name Ginger, which is what I was called in high school. I started using Ginny when I read an Erma Bombeck column saying no one should be called Ginger unless they’re jumping up and down waving pompoms (which I actually did back then). As a grandmother of 7 and great grandmother of 5, I still answer to Ginger only because I know the person addressing me that has known me a looooong time.