Well, those ships have clearly sailed. I got a flier in the mail for my 20-year high school reunion yesterday.
This should make me feel either decrepit or nostalgic, but it doesn’t really do either. I spent most of high school imagining myself with a good 20 years of daylight between myself and that particular experience, so I guess I prepared early.
I have no memory of either of the people who are organizing it, who are married to each other. (I find the idea of forming a life partnership with someone who knew me when I was 16 totally unsettling. I would really question their judgment, if not their sanity.) The people I’m curious about either weren’t in my class or are about as likely as I am to attend this event. I’d like to find out if anyone really unexpected turned out to be gay, but I doubt they put that on the name tags.
What’s really weird is to realize that some of current favorite reading material and television shows are about teen-agers and that I probably would have avoided them like the plague when I actually was a teen-ager. (I was more likely to be checking pseudo-literary smut out of the public library, discretely burying copies of American Flagg amidst all the Uncanny X-Men and Avengers, or speculating on plot developments in upcoming episodes of Dynasty.)
So, thanks for the invite, former classmates, but I’ll pass. I’m given to morbid curiosity, but I think I can resist in this case.