My 50th high school reunion is a little over five weeks away. Actually, that’s not true. It is five weeks away, but I didn’t graduate from Avonworth High School. My family moved in March of my sophomore year, so I graduated from Baldwin in ’66, one of more than 600. If I hadn’t played in the band I’m pretty sure I would have spent those last two years of high school wondering who all those strangers were I passed in the hall, but the band helped me socialize a bit even though I’m only in touch with one former classmate and that’s only because of Facebook.
The fact of the matter is for most of my young life I attended school with the same hundred or so classmates from first grade through tenth, so when the invite came from Avonworth, I thought, “Why not?”
I had planned to visit my sister and brother in Pittsburgh the end of June anyway and the reunion was priced more than reasonably at $45 for a dinner. I planned to forgo the pre-reunion gathering at Sunny Jim’s, a local hangout that has been around far longer than me or my classmates.
My second novel (ready to be published) is set in my old home town, including a fictional affair of one of the main characters at, you guessed it, Sunny Jim’s! Originally titled, “Summer in Ben Avon” (one of the boroughs that makes up the Avonworth School District), I’ve renamed it
“Summer of ‘85” since even though everyone at the reunion knows Ben Avon is a place, not a person, most non-residents are confused by the reference.
The novel is filled with familiar landmarks and some fictional ones. For instance, I always thought there should be a park with benches and a water fountain in the middle of town. There isn’t. Smitty’s Barber Shop has been renamed Booney’s and, alas, the mom and pop grocery store only exists now in my novel.
But I digress from the topic at hand – meeting long forgotten classmates for the first time in years over a glass of wine (or two) and a chicken or fish dinner. I asked the reunion organizer to send me anything that might help trigger my memory, a yearbook or a list of attendees, perhaps? Something to lessen my projected embarrassment of a brain wiped clean of any facial recognition or past recollections. Voila! In the morning’s emails a copy of the 45th reunion memories complete with pictures (some quite old/some new) and a list in memoriam of those who have graduated to their final destination, (wherever one chooses to believe that is).
I was surprised how many memories were triggered. I had my one and only physical fight ever in the 3rd grade with Melissa, who also happened to be my best friend in elementary school. She’s married and living Florida and I’m guessing doesn’t remember our tussle – I hope not. Barry and I used to pass the boring times in Miss Agnew’s fifth grade class seeing who could disassemble and reassemble our ball point pens the fastest. (I know, who remembers that?) According to his bio, he’s well-traveled and sounds like a free spirit I’d probably like.
Most memories are pretty positive, but Miss Agnew did not fare well in my first novel. I never forgave her for making Linda W. cry as she tried desperately to read out loud to her classmates.
Because I didn’t know anyone at my new school (or perhaps because I wasn’t popular or pretty enough – this was high school) I asked Jimmy and Jack, bandmates at Avonworth, respectively to my junior and senior proms. I don’t have any negative (or positive) memories of the two dances, but looking back I appreciate them schlepping across town.
Perusing the 45th reunion booklet, it appears most of my classmates got married, stayed married, had kids who had kids, and, more often than not, added a golden retriever to the mix.
Enough research. Caution to the wind. I don’t know what to say when I run into someone I haven’t seen in a year. How does one possibly start a conversation after 50+? I’m not looking for a mate (got one) or a hook up (not interested) or an investor in a business (another character from my novel). I could refer them to my website or my FB Writer’s page, but that feels pretentious.
I suppose I just want to say “hello” and wish my former childhood friends the best of lives, more happy times than sad, and fond memories.