Last night was my much-blogged-about 20 year high school reunion. I have to say, it far exceed my expectations.
There were no more cliques, just people. People who despite whatever differences they may have had in the past, shared a remarkable amount of common memories. A lot (most of) the people I talked to were people I never spoke to or hung out with in high school. I was amazed how many people I recognized. the trick was to look at people’s faces. Hair and body shapes were not going to be enough. Too much time has passed. That, and Mother Nature and Father Time have had their way with all of us. For better or for worse.
Apparently, a decision was made to NOT get name tags – to encourage people to talk to each other. It worked. I think I spoke to more people in 6 hours last night than i did in 4 years of high school.
My quixotic hope of meeting someone at the reunion did not come to pass. Granted, that was not the reason I went last night. I really did go, as i said before, to put some old demons to rest. What I found most amazing about last night was that even a person like myself, who traveled the halls of my high school in relative anonymity, was even remembered at all. This may sound pathetic, but I even feel better now about my high school experience than I ever have. For some people, maybe that’s a reason enough to have these things.
I feel bad for the people who weren’t able to come last night; but I feel even worse for the people who chose not to come. If a ex-teenage misanthrope like me could bury the hatchet with my past and have a great time, ANYBODY can.
Who knows? Maybe 20 years from now, i’ll be able to bury the hatchet with the STBX.
“…and that brings back to doh….”
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- Rob on…the lame duck illusion
- The Waiting Room: Living in the Stretch
- Rob on…closing the comic book
- How to Build Confidence: A 1,008-Day Guide to Stringing Together Victories
- The Beacon in the Digital Dark: Why I Write to Breathe
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The article “reflections on my 20 year reunion… 20 hours later” first appeared on Rebuilding Rob.
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