Rear View Mirror
A week from tomorrow night is my high school reunion in Los Angeles. My thirtieth high school reunion. I won't be attending.At first I was looking forward to it. And yet, as it approached I found that I really wasn't excited. The committee had originally planned it (tentatively) for August, and we were going to work out our cross-country car trip to synch up with it. But then it moved to November. I just changed jobs, Kristi's work schedule makes it difficult to leave town because of Emma, blah blah blah. It was going to be a fair amount of money and logistical difficulties ... for what? I went to my tenth and didn't particularly enjoy it; why bother?
And then the emails started coming in. Glenn Berkovitz put together an email list of twenty-odd (and I do mean odd) key figures from my past, from fifth grade on, and arranged for a night-before-the-reunion party. People started sharing life stories. And suddenly, damn it, I'm wishing I could go. Even though so many of us are scattered so widely that (like me) most won't be in Los Angeles next weekend, it would be a joy to see Josh and Glenn and Denise and Andy and all the others who will be at dinner on Friday.
The last few days have been very emotional for me -- seeing names in my inbox from 30 years gone, suddenly remembering extraordinary events long forgotten. Life cheated me out of some key time with these people (my family moved to Fresno before my junior year, and though I went back to L.A. on my own as a senior, I graduated early -- only three semesters of high school spent with them). So really, I was missing them even then. And I'm missing them still.
So, if you're from the class of '76 and passing by, hi. Drop me a line. If you're ever in flyover country, come on by. You're always welcome.
Labels: friends
posted by MeanMrMustard @ 10:00 PM
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