November 2003

A Mess of Thoughts About My Impending Reunion
1993 Remembered

Last week, this article was fixin' to be the penultimate one in my year-long egotistical series. I didn't know what it was going to be about, but I'd work itself out like it always does. Little did I know that my high school class officers organized a reunion back home on the day after Thanksgiving. With that in mind, I put together these thoughts about 1993, 1998 and some places in between.

Part I: The Five Year Reunion

Back in 1998, I bought my first car in late October. It was a primer-black 1986 Honda Accord. I called him "Little Grandpa". Before he finally died, I'd drive him about 45,000 miles. But in November of 1998, he was my new car. When it came time to drive to the reunion, he had not passed inspection, and still had illegal plates. Nevertheless, I decided to drive Little Grandpa to Upstate New York for the party. Who could it hurt?

My two passengers, that's who!

Actually, neither of my passengers, both friends from high school, were ever hurt, but that car was not road ready. At the time, I felt a little guilty. Now, it's just funny to me.

Anyway, I picked up the two ladies at New Carrollton on Wednesday afternoon, and we drove off into the night.

All the way up, we talked about what we'd been up to, and what we had planned. It was a blast until they started talking about people from the school. Save a few close friends, I could not place faces with hardly any of the names that came up in the conversation. For probably five of the 6 hours I drove, I did not think of my lack of insurance, or the holes in the floor of the car, because the thought of forgetting the names of the people I would see in two days scarred the shit out of me. It was terrible. Even when the ladies described some people, I was at a loss. I needed help.

Thank heavens for my Mom! As soon as I arrived at my parents' house, I rushed upstairs to the closet with the boxes of my old crap she kept in her house. In one of the boxes I found my high school year book. Oh joy! I looked through the pages and remembered all the names and faces I had forgotten. This reunion would not be so terrible after all!

The reunion itself turned out to be less formal than I'd expected. People from the Class of 1993 simply gathered at one end of this large bar. About 75 people (my estimate) were there, and I did not have time to speak with all of them. Because of my late night studying, I recognized everyone there. That was a relief.

Part II: Me and My Wife

We're all getting older, grayer, and more married as time goes by. That is, at least, what I've noticed in myself. Such is life. It's been ten whole years since I was a dumb college Freshman; ten and a half since I was an arrogant high school senior. I don't know that I want to spend an evening celebrating what I used to be to myself and others. I don't want the reunion to be all about what I was.

Until yesterday, my wife was not going to attend the reunion with me. As of today, she is free that day, and will be at my side. That'll help a whole bunch. There is going to be superficiality at this get together, but being with my wife will keep me grounded.

I did not have high expectations for my five-year reunion because I knew that 100% of the attendees would be either still in school, or in their first job after college. The talk would be about potential and the future - along with the stories of excess and bravado. This reunion, I fear, will be less about the future, and more about the past. Why do I feel that way? Duh? I've been harping on 1993 all damn year, and I don't think I'm all that different than any other person! Of course, I worked all my past-lust out of my system. I cannot speak for the others.

Bigfoot will be there with me, and, no doubt, she'll be one of many spouses making an appearance. She may have heard all the stories that can be told, but there will be others, those stories that have slipped out of my brain for one reason or another, but they will not surprise here…I think. The reason I am happy to have her there is because she represents my future. No words or business cards can speak as loudly as a loving, beautiful spouse at your side. At least for me, the good in her represents what I want out of life. I hope people will see that as well.

I've been working out my introduction to the people: "…and this is my wife, Bigfoot. We've been married for almost three years now. She's terrific!" I think I will alternate "She's terrific!" with "You've got to get you one of these!" My wife's a classy lady, so I can't just use one compliment.

Part III: It's a Graduation Day Reunion

Waking on Graduation Day, I knew that most of the people walking with me that day would scatter all over the country, rarely to be seen again. As years pass, some would die, and others would be impossibly out of reach. Of the 270 or so people I graduated with, I hope to see maybe 100 this weekend. The lack of organization, and short notice will keep the numbers down. Also, the ten-year reunion is not a huge mile-stone. I don't doubt that at twenty-five years, we'll have high attendance.

As well as being about 'the memories,' and 'the friendships,' going to a reunion is, in a large part, about celebrating your graduation from high school. Sure, no one will mention it, but by graduating, we successfully completed our terms in our home town, and were set free. The reunion is a celebration of that escape, and, no matter how far we have to travel to return for the party, we go there by choice. Of all the people in the country, we are the only 270 people to graduate from OUR high school in June of 1993. We survived it together, more or less. This will be nothing like our college reunions.

I look forward to see all the unfamiliar faces I once knew by heart. I want to be introduced to the new and improved people. I want to be as happy for those people as I was on my Graduation Day. On our Graduation Day, we hugged each other over and over again. We high-fived each other, and we toasted ourselves until the wee hours of the morning. We were done. Now it's time to see what we've been doing with our freedom.

This sounds sappy, I know, but reunions are not serious events. Reunions are cursed by the weight of fuzzy memories and well told lies. Reunions offer the promise of promises to "keep in touch", just like the ones you made when you graduated. Reunions, and the people who attend them, can't help it.