Twenty years ago this summer I went to my 10 year high school reunion. Moving beyond the excessive air intake in realizing just how incredibly old I now am, I can say, with fondness, that it was a most wonderfully dull evening.
When 20 happened I was two weeks away from giving birth to two children, and two months past measuring full term in the mid-section. I was enormous; transportation would have required a flatbed truck and very large straps to hold me down for 500 miles. Not knowing if one of my fellow graduates had chosen a career in obstetrics and unsure about delivering two children in the middle of my high school reunion I chose to stay home.
This past weekend was 30 years. The busyness of this life kept me from visiting that one, the timing coming right at the end of the school year, right as we rolled into summer (although I must note that my girth and ability to wedge into a commercial airline seat was no longer a relevant factor in my travel plans). I followed the planning on Facebook: casual bar get together Friday night, spouses claiming boredom being ditched, big event Saturday, cocktail dresses or pants, lunch at Taco Via every single day (disclosure: I have never loved Taco Via nor did I have any idea that everyone else did. I would have been at Winstead's but that is another story).
Sunday morning, iPad and hot tea in hand, I settled in on the back deck to check out the antics of those I had loved so much so long ago.
Who were these people? I recognized about 3% of the faces appearing before me. Hadn't these 600 plus people been the reason the sun rose and set every day? Why didn't I know every single one of them? Why didn't I know any of them? Did my brain shut down after the ten year reunion? Were all of the early 80's lost to me?
Wait, Jeff you stand there by Paul, and then Joey, you move in next to them. Becky, you stand next to Laura, and then Sarah and Sarah, you two together over there. Can we get Kathy and Brooke together please with Colby and Steve? Karen, you go to the left, with Lisa and Amy and Brian, you move over there by Charles and Chris. Wait a minute, where is Margaret? Nobody move…say cheese!
Maybe at 10 years we got it all right, somethings should never change. Raiders we shall always be, as long as we stay frozen in time and stand next to those we stood next to 30 years ago, even if they talk us into trouble. I'll see you all in ten years, and don't cut your hair.
My wonderful grade school friend Jim and I have a date to attend 40 together. He's wearing Granimals and I'm going with gauchos. We may not fit in but at least we will know who we are, or were, in 1978.
No picture from the 2004 era, not enough room on the page.