September 22, 2018
The big day finally arrived this past summer. I was en route to my high school reunion. My class would be congregating for the 50th time since we accepted our diplomas. This would be my first appearance among them in 25 years. Maybe I need to get out more.
The drive of 200 miles gave me plenty of time to review my two pre-arranged strategies for the event. That’s not many, but I just wanted to make sure I did at least a couple things right. It was easier 25 years ago when I had a secret weapon. My wife Bonnie was with me. With her there I did pretty well. However, this trip I was solo. Bonnie was at home caring for our aging dog, so she had to let this two-legged one go on his own.
While zipping up I-71, I became the good student again and went right to review time. Strategy #1: DON’T STAY TOO LONG. Things should start out swimmingly. There would be hugs, laughter, tears, and reminiscing. For a fixed period of time I would be more popular than I really was in Jewett High. At least that’s how it went last time I showed up. I hoped I’d stayed away long enough for a repeat.
The miles ticked off quickly. I was already halfway there. Time to review Strategy #2: TELL JOKES. This one is huge. I practiced them on a friendly audience: God and the dashboard of my Honda Element. I told a bunch last reunion, and it played well with my classmates for the quiet, academic nerd (valedictorian) to turn comedian. Self-deprecation worked well. Like, “I wanted to graduate and become filthy, stinkin’ rich. Two out of three isn’t bad!” I fired off another: “Mrs. Phillips (English teacher) looked at (insert name of popular student who wasn’t into academics and can take a joke) and said to name two pronouns. To which he replied, ‘Who, me?’” Laughter. Success! Then I quickly threw in another self-deprecation. I planned to use the same formula this time and hope for the best. I had different jokes, although at our ages everyone probably would have forgotten the ones I used last time.
I hoped Joe wasn’t there. (His name has been changed to protect the author.) He was a grade behind me, but all classes are invited to reunions in Jewett. He sure had fun teasing me at the park that one afternoon when we were kids. Wow, I wish I could remember everything as well as I do those few minutes. I hoped he was bald and toothless by now. That should even the score.
I had only 50 miles to go and was driving secondary roads. I started feeling very guilty. How could I wish an accelerated aging process on anybody. After all, I’ve had half a century to mature and grow spiritually. Was all that for nothing? At the risk of brain overload, I added one more strategy: LET IT GO. I mouthed those words out loud. Same response as Strategy #2 from the dashboard. But this time God was actually smiling. I wished the best for Joe. I backed this up with a prayer for help, though.
I pulled into the lot. All this preparation and I was still a bit nervous. Well, even if I forgot everything, at least I had one thing going for me—a good hair day. You just can’t plan that.
Things started well. Hugs, laughter, tears, reminiscing. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hard-to-Love Joe approaching. He was looking at me. I noticed he had hair. Thick hair. I willed myself to be glad. A few feet away, he smiled broadly. With perfect teeth! He said, in a sincere tone, “I’m very glad you made it tonight.” It appeared he was letting it go as well. “I’m glad I made it too.”
I enjoyed the meal and conversation. Pictures were taken. I even went with some of the class to a restaurant in Jewett afterwards. This is saying something, because I didn’t socialize much when I was in high school, except with a few close friends and the church youth group.
Then came the time everyone usually reverts back to their high school selves. I did as well, becoming the Quiet One again. I started to get that same old uneasy feeling. It wasn’t my classmates’ fault; I wasn’t very outgoing back then.
Don’t feel sorry though. I was about to unleash the comedy weapon. I quietly waited 15 minutes. Then the perfect opportunity came for a joke. And it wasn’t even one I had memorized. It was actually spontaneous! I don’t even remember it now, but it went over well. I was quiet for 15 more minutes. A second, even better, opportunity came and I winged off another good one.
After an hour or so of reliving our past, ten seconds of silence fell over the table. We all stood as one person. Then came the bittersweet hugs, tears, and goodbyes. I drove to nearby Tappan Lake to camp. This was a good plan since it saved me a night drive back to Kentucky. I built a fire and pondered the evening’s events.
It was great to see everyone, and this was good for me. Let’s see, in 25 years I’ll be 93. That should be long enough away for a three-peat. Or maybe I’ll go back sooner, while I’m able to have a hair day at all.
Anybody want to share any comments about their reunion? I need all the ideas I can get. I’ve already started thinking about my next one.
