For the last four days I've had my head down working like a dawg doing some serious Interweb stalking. My sister is the head of her high school class reunion committee and I'm trying to find about 50 lost members for her. Since I'm the little sister I got conscripted into service. That happens with a lot of her projects. Next week I've been conscripted to paint, furnish and decorate the Tres Butterbean nursery. Sigh. It's always something.
That's some kind of unwritten Big Sister - Little Sister law by the way. Little Sister must do what Big Sister says. Always. Forever. Punishment for disobeying is getting pinched under the supper table by a set of prehensile toes. Sissy's got some monkey toes, lemme tell ya what. She can take a plug outta me with those things.
Anyway, it got me to thinking about high school class reunions. Both sisters are the chairmadams for their respective class reunion committees. They love all the planning and organizing and hob-knobbing. They plan some kind of get-together about every five years and have a grand ol' time.
I, on the other hand, am not the head of my reunion committee. I'm not even on the committee. I have not attended a single reunion. Never even responded to the requests for information. High school, while not terribly unpleasant, was no great joy either. I just endured those years thinking maybe next year will be better. It never was. There were a few bright spot classes I enjoyed, but mainly I thought it a big waste of time, just state-funded babysitting.
Most of the people in my social group are either dead or doing 25-to-life so the folks I knew well wouldn't be at a reunion anyway. I have kept up with only three people: Patti, my bestest girlfriend; Jeff, my bestest guy friend; and Jill, whom I didn't associate with in school but who starting keeping up with me once we got to college. Jill keeps me up-to-date on everybody else so I don't have to. She will start in on a litany of events and scandals and I'm thinking to myself, "Who is this she's talking about? I don't remember anybody by that name." It's not like we had a really huge class either. Maybe 250 people and I went through at least six years with them. You would think I would have a clue what the names were.
I do remember all the teachers though, even some of the ones I didn't have for class. They were the people who were important to me, not my classmates. You bet your ass I'll run through traffic to accost them and find out how they are doing. Sadly most of my favorites have passed away. Those were some tough old broads and I loved them for it. They didn't take any crap from a bunch of kids and we all knew it. I like tough old broads. I hope to be one some day.
I guess I just don't "get" the appeal of a class reunion. I don't understand why a bunch of random people who were forced together by chance or circumstance for a very short time in their lives would want to get together to reminisce. It seems as odd to me as a reunion of everyone who was shopping in the local Wal-Mart store on Tuesday, August 15, 1986. What's the point?
Friday, January 11, 2008
High School Class Reunions
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8 comments:
I'm with you, Speck. I haven't gone to my reunions and I won't. High School was ok, but if I wanted to stay in contact with the people I knew then, I would have. Of course, there is something to be said for seeing how all the smarty-pants, aren't I cute, dance squad chicks actually turned out. Nah, I still won't go.
Count me in. Never went to a single reunion, high school or college and I'm totally fine with that. And I know this sounds snotty but I've always thought there was something a little sad about "needing" to attend reunions. Because unless it is to show off how svelte, poised and fantastically wealthy you are to all the lameoids who made your life hell in high school, really, why would you bother?
I went to my ten-year reunion. The guy I had a crush on for years had lost his hair and turned into a hippo. It was wonderful.
I would go to a class reunion if it was on par with Romy and Michelle. Otherwise, no thank you.
Why are most of your social group dead or locked up? Were they greasers? heh heh (dig dig dig)
Also, my sister has monkey toes. She is my little sister and she never listens to a word I say.
hmpf.
KA - I don't know that I could hid my pity for the DSCs. Pity ain't pretty.
Lorraine - To thank God for unanswered prayers? (see below)
Buck - Bald hippo. HAHAHAHA!
Hat - Stoners. Is that the same thing as a greaser? The Gret Stet of Arkansas fried one in the electric chair not too long ago for capital murder. I found another one doing 10 yrs for drug possession on the AR Dept of Corrections website. It's bad when the lockup list looks very similar to the class roster. I was there looking for one of sister's classmates. He was in for manslaughter, but should be out in time for the next reunion. Joy.
I am so with you on this one. I don't want to see the guys I had crushes on who are now fat, bald and on their third wife. And the accomplishments of their children though marvelous hold no fascination for me. I have stayed in contact with two high school friends - both whom I've know since childhood. One very close friend from high school tried to get aquainted again but when I told him I was gay he said that as a Christian he could not condon my lifestyle. As I hadn't asked him to I suggested that perhaps the preposed coffee date would be inapprobriate.
I never went either. I was always on the other side of the planet, and the cost/time to go watch a bunch of adults fall into the roles of high school ... no, not really worth it. Plus, I was one of the gossip targets whom everyone hoped would come back to that little Midwest farming town to inspire, yes, more gossip. Between turning my back on the church, being a female in the military, living out of the country, and the interracial marriage, yeah, I was pretty much a scandal on legs. I figure, better to let them have the mystery ... it's gotta be better than real life anyway.
I did consider going back for one, after the divorce. A friend of mine and I had cooked up this plan to attend with her posing as my lesbian lover. That would've given them enough gossip for the next few decades.
I have gone to all of my reunions until this last one, the 45th. I hated High School, hated myself, was not popular or even liked, I hated life back then. So, why did I go? I guess I have the need to be hated all over again. It was pure punishment. Wall Mart sounds like a better deal.
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