Everyone could use a day like the past Saturday was for me. Maybe you don't realize it -- surveys suggest that most people who read blogs aren't old enough yet -- but it's true.

Saturday morning I joined Times pop music critic Sean Daly for a tag-team presentation at the Festival of Reading, as we joked and waxed seriously about our beats and the ways we handle them. As much as I love ribbing Sean about the size of his head or the lascivious slant he'll often put on his writing, I can honestly say it was an honor sitting next to him on that Poynter Institute stage. He's that good.

Even more gratifying were the readers who attended, asking great questions that at least once -- when a gentleman inquired about why Into the Wild drew such an emotional response from me, that I shared in my review -- felt like a psychotherapy session. All ages, all tastes and all reminding me that what I do for a living somehow touches people. We can all use that once in a while.

Later Saturday, Princess Di and I went through the time tunnel to New Port Richey, where I grew up. Hundreds of other Gulf High School graduates gathered for the first-ever Buccaneer Alumni Invasion, two days of multi-generational memories and, as importantly, fundraising to set up five new scholarship kitties for Gulf's student-athletes. I wrote a Pasco Times column advancing the event, that the Bucs' head coach Jay Fulmer told me he read to his unbeaten (now 7-0) team for inspiration, which for a former jock and prep coach is more satisfying than any professional award.

We raised around $25,000 that will assist deserving Gulf grads. If you don't believe that feels good then you've never tried anything like it yourself.

Bill Phillips, class of 1975, organized this ambitious endeavor and flattered me by asking if I'd serve as emcee for Friday's pep rally and Saturday's pregame and halftime events. I used to block for Bill when he played quarterback. He has known for a long time that I'm a ham always seeking a new deli in which to show off. (I wasn't voted "most spirited" and "class clown" for nothing.) I introduced myself to a packed stadium as the Times movie critic "but tonight I'm prouder to be a 1974 graduate of Gulf High School."

New Port Richey is a big small town that never forgets its own. It's a place that plenty of us couldn't wait to leave upon graduation but can't stay away from now when something like Bill's idea offers the reason. I ran into people who were supporting Gulf's programs when I was in school, classmates whom the years haven't stripped of fun, and people I taught, coached or worked alongside for 16 years before this gig. Hundreds of memories and twice as many laughs.

Then there were today's Buccaneer students, a bright, boisterous bunch who reminded me why I loved teaching. They didn't really know the lively old guy crammed into his letterman's jacket at the pep rally, or why he was so concerned with keeping Saturday's events running on time. But they knew I was like hundreds of others giving back to their alma mater. I'm confident they'll carry on that example.

The five scholarships were named in honor of people who've been there for the Bucs for decades: Brian Singletary, a four-decade Publix store manager who has donated materials and hired student-athletes all along, working around their class and practice schedules; Paul Girardi, who was my coach and now is the dean of Pasco County athletic directors; Lucy Decubellis, class of 1948, who served as the principal's secretary and everyone's second mom at Ridgewood High when I taught there; Jerry Young, a 35-year Gulf coach whose teams I covered as a Times stringer; and finally Bill, although he didn't know it until I called his name. (Good job keeping it hush-hush, Bill's wife Joy.)

In a single day I felt as if I'd gone through five of Shakespeare's seven ages of man. I wouldn't have been out front Saturday night if not for the opportunities the Times offers that Saturday morning reminded me of. I realized again that using whatever I have going for me to benefit others is what I'll do until I die. And I'm certain I'm not the only one who felt that way.

Maybe you had to be there to understand. Not just Saturday at Poynter or Des Little Stadium but everywhere I've been throughout the years. Not even Princess Di completely understands, and she knows me better than anyone. I sincerely hope you'll enjoy a day like that, to realize in the midst of everything else just how lucky we are.