Last Saturday, my wife and I attended the Stevensville Creamery Picnic Parade and then went to my 30th High School Reunion. It was interesting for me as (with one exception) I had not seen any of these people since I graduated High School. In fact, I didn’t graduate with my class because I graduated early to go into the US Navy.
I have to admit, I was somewhat trepidatious about attending. I was somewhat of a troublemaker in School (I know you find that hard to believe…). I certainly wasn’t one of the most popular people and even though I lettered in Football, Track and Speech and Debate, I wasn’t really part of any of the usual clics in High School. If I belonged to any group, it was the “tree people” - you know, the ones that stood out in the parking lot under the trees and smoked cigarettes.
Unsurprisingly, since this was my first High School Reunion, and I have changed radically in looks since High School, not many people recognised me. I actually found it amusing that many of the people I did run with had no idea who I was and a few of the more popular people that I didn’t run with recognised me immediately. It wasn’t until we visited my daughter on the way back to Dillon, that we figured out why so few people could recognise me. In my late 20’s, I had an accident while working on a motorcycle that broke my jaw in two places and both my cheekbones. In rebuilding my facial structure, the doctor actually narrowed my face quite a bit and the end result is that I now look like my younger brother.
It was, of course, really nice to see my best friend in High School, Phil. He and I were very close and stayed in contact even after I left the area. We have had long periods of time when we didn’t talk, but Phil is still one of the few people I would do anything for.
Of course they had old yearbooks there (I wish I still had the two I bought while in high school), and my wife took great pleasure in pointing out the pictures where I was wearing those reversable Sear’s Toughskin slacks.. you know the ones, with the green and white stripes going down the legs, virtually assuring that a girl would never talk to me. During my Freshman year, my mother and I went to war over my school cloths and at the heart of that war was those damn Sear’s slacks. Unfortunately, even though I won the war (I only wore Jeans after that), those damn pants are immortalized in my freshman yearbook.
The reunion was also a little sad. Two of the people I was fairly close to in high school have since died of cancer. It is sad (and somewhat sobering) to think that we are all getting older - not me of course, I am going to live forever.
If you get a chance to go to a High School Reunion, I really do recommend you go - even if you were not the most popular person in your class. Old rivalries are usually forgotten and many just remember the good times. You might just find yourself surprised and actually enjoy yourself.
Moorcat



