I wonder if most people find their 20th high school reunion anticlimactic? To this point, I certainly have. Last night, STK and I joined many of my former classmates from the class of 1986 for an informal happy hour/meet and greet type thing. While it was nice to catch up with a handful of folks--a former college roomate, a Knowledge Bowl comrade, a fellow jazz band member, and a couple others with whom I really didn't associate--it was not so nice to bump into some others. Some people have changed dramatically; many haven't. The nice folk are still nice and the assholes are still assholes.
The most amusing aspect of the evening had to be people looking at me and trying to match my face with dated high school identity. Throughout the evening, STK and I glimpsed people pointing and whispering as they looked in my direction. A couple of times, I caught wind of the conversation:
Classmate 1: That's D.
Classmate 2: No fucking way.
Classmate 1: Yep.
Classmate 2: Holy shit.
I'm pretty sure that if the class presented someone with the "Most Changed" award, I'd be the recipient. That's two reunions in a row. Score! I'll have to come up with a mighty significant change for the 30 year reunion. I'm open to any and all suggestions.
The saddest moment of the evening occured when I reunited with a longtime friend and drinking buddy. We did almost everything together during high school. It was a safe bet that whatever we were doing--fishing, listening to the Celtics on the radio, roadin'--there'd be plenty of Old Milwaukee Light, Wild Turkey, and Snowshoe Grog (a vile brandy and peppermint schnapps concoction). Sadly, T still hammers away liquor like water . . . and it's taking a toll. We talked for about 15 minutes and I found myself pulling back as the conversation progressed. When I looked at him, I saw a reflection of myself had I not quit drinking and drugging 13 years ago: deep wrinkles around the eyes, slurred speech, spotty memory, and twitchy/lurching movement. He's drinking himself to death.
The rest of the evening consisted of typical reunion chit chat, I suppose. Where are you now? What do you do? Married? Family? How are your brothers, sisters, parents? Not a lot of substance to the discussions, really.
In all, I felt like an outsider most of the night. With all the major changes in my life over the last 20 years, I'm not the same person. Not even close. I felt like a stranger at a dinner party where everyone knows one another (many of those in attendance keep in contact and some still live in the same town). I never felt like I fit in with my classmates during high school and I feel even more alienated today. Is it possible I really don't have anything in common with these folks or am I focusing too much on our differences and not enough on our commonalities? I'm not sure. I've always been one to do a bit of self-alienation and maybe that process has skewed my perception of my place within the cohort of 1986. Many at last night's gathering implied that I was part of the popular crowd in our school. I commented to STK later, "I sure don't remember high school like that." The truth, I suspect, is somewhere in the middle.
2 comments:
Well, it's good to know the Heathens are still as they were. I'm not all that sorry about not making it back, save for not seeing you and STK. We've got to do something about that. You've not met Nancy, and I've not met TLO.
And for the record, you were one of the popular kids in high school. You were in all the circles: geeks, bandies, jocks/drinkers, etc. I was even a little jealous at some times. Good to know now that I needn't have bothered.
I have contemplated showing up to my reunion in full jedi garb.
I figure tweek folks out by acting all calm and meditative LOL
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