This upcoming weekend I will be attending my first high school class reunion. This is not the first high school class reunion for my class, but this is the first high school class reunion I have attended. Somehow the first nine seemed to have slipped by. To save you from having to do the math, this is the 50th reunion event. I am uncertain how so many could have slipped by me without my attending. I know for a fact that for a number of years I was not on any alumni mailing list. Once I rectified this I started to receive notices of upcoming events. I recall thinking about attending the 40th reunion, but did not and I recall seriously planning to attend the 45th but the date came and went unnoticed. Now that I am retired I have had plenty of time to prepare and think about this event. I truly plan on attending. However, as the moment approaches, I must admit that I am feeling some anxiety.
After all, for the most part, I have not seen any of these people for a little over 50 years. I am sure I am not the only one who has more girth and less hair, but what if I am wrong. In my mind’s eye, I can picture myself walking into a room and seeing tables scattered about. At one of the tables will be all the jocks and at another will be all the cool kids. The nerds of course will be clowning around at yet another table. I never considered myself as a part of any of those groups. In fact, I am not sure what group, if any, I was associated with. Now bear in mind, I am relieving my own anxiety by sharing it with you. I am sure, in reality, it will be nothing at all like what I see in my mind’s eye. The fact of the matter is this. After returning home following two enlistments in the U.S. Navy I had lost contact with just about all my old school friends. I worked with a few in my career, and on occasion would run into a few others, either out at a social setting, or as a part of doing my job. I recall one incident a few years back when I recognized a former high school (and grade school) class mate acting as a greeter at a local discount store. I spoke with her and she looked at me with no recognition in her eyes and she said “now which one are you”? I gave her my name, she nodded, and then begin greeting the next individual entering the store. It was obvious this one had forgotten me.
Which brings me to my next big point of anxiety. What if no one remembers me? What if I remember no one. Now the odds of this are slim due to the having reacquainted my self with a number of my classmates via social media. If nothing else, I know that I am not the only one with a thinning hairline. So I will say this up front. If you do not remember me, or do not recognize me this week-end, that is okay. And please forgive me if I fail to recognize you or know you as well. After all, at our age, memory is probably not our strong point anyway. If you have bad memories of me, remember, I am not that same guy you knew back then. And I will keep that same perspective in mind with regards to you. I am looking forward to this weekend. I hope we hall have name tags with bold large lettering on them. And please, no wet willies, wedgies, or Indian burns.
Those are my thoughts, what are yours?
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