So, last Fall, I drug my beautiful wife to my 10 year high-school reunion to her great amusement, disgust, indifference, and consternation. This past Memorial Day, it was my turn.
Ten year reunions are pretty egotistical things, everyone showing-up in their best (rented) sports-car, displaying the hot wife/husband they caught, and boasting about the great job they’re using to climb that ladder of success. Old flames are to be properly derided like a decade-old divorce proceeding. Old social pecking-order is to be re-established, if only for one shining moment of decoration and falsity.
Oh, and one’s kid is supposed to run around like a maniac and split her lip wide open. Wait that was just us. Quote of the day:
Me: “Wow, that was a total trainwreck. Seemed like everyone was having a blast except for us.”
Bella: “Yep, welcome to my LIFE throughout high school.”
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So yeah, in true type-A fashion, this mighty crew of 20 persons had not only planned an outside event, BUT ALSO had an indoor location in case of rain. Natch, it rained, just enough to push the festivities indoors to a Church of Christ gymnasium/fellowship hall.
Aside: There’s something about a sign that says, “No drinking, no smoking, and no profanity” that made me think, “Well, shit.” This was that kind of place.
Whitney’s class was 20 people. No, not her 3rd period English class, her ENTIRE CLASS. Her entire high school matriculation would fit inside one graduating class at BHS. There was room for 2 cliques: Preps and Dopeheads. Okay, three–Preps, Dopeheads, and Whitney, apparently. Unlike my reunion, in which some folks had changed considerably, Whitney reported that most of these folks carried forward with the same personalities and quirks, ten years hence.
Somewhat depressing, no?
On the whole, the group seemed well-adjusted, conversational, and…rather disinterested in one another. People who wanted to keep in contact had, so there wasn’t that shebang “wow, that’s YOU?!” moment. Childless couples stayed together, and the parents in the group chased about their multiple kids. Personally, I took it as my mission to keep the toddlers out of the snowblower. That’s just not a good place for toddlers to be.
Of course, I tried speaking to an actual adult for 3 seconds; Maria decided that was the moment to face-plant into the concrete floor, leaving her nose uninjured but pushing her two incisors right through her upper lip. Honestly, I think she was more okay with it than us…in 30 minutes she was back playing, sucking her thumb, eating and drinking. Still, she got a fat lip for her trouble, and we got to recount (and add to) the litany of our accident-prone little dreadnought, Re-Re.
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I’m glad Whitney went, and glad she relaxed and shared with the few people she remained friends with. It’s good to see someone in context. She remains in my eyes a singular soul, a rare gem that I found and grow to appreciate more each day, a challenge to match me in every way.
Did I enjoy it? Not really. Long day, and really difficult trying to corral Maria every 10 seconds. Probably the coolest part was getting to use Stu’s Navigon GPS to get us to podunk Indiana. Niiiiice!