At the risk of aging myself, I marched across the stage 20 years ago and grabbed a wad of paper that stood in for the diploma later mailed to my mother’s house.
It still hangs on her wall.
A 20 year reunion sounded like something that would happen in 100 years when I was 17.
Turns out 20 years really isn’t that long.
The thing that happened before I was handed that wad of paper felt really, really important before the principal handed it to me.
Now, not so much.
In the grand scheme of things high school was a necessary blergh and was far from the most important period of my life.
It isn’t even in the top 20.
I know some people loved high school and that’s great, but I clearly am not one of those people.
At best high school taught me how to cope around unsavory types and knuckle draggers.
Haven’t seen any of the jerks since we said “see you later” in that auditorium.
I’ve ‘reunited’ with most of the classmates I did like via Facebook. I am glad to know they are doing well.
And there are no hard feeling against the jerks.
I honestly hope the kids I didn’t like and the kids who didn’t particularly like me have had a good 20 years.
It would be easy to wish they were fatter than a house, balder than an eagle or imprisoned by the state, but that would be a wasted wish. Life’s genie only gives us so many wishes.
Besides, it would be childish to hold a 20 year grudge against someone because they were mean to me when they were 16, 17 or 18.
It is far better to pity them and send them good vibes shaped like unicorns.
Being a 17-year-old jerk must take a lot of energy. Just thinking about it makes this writer tired.
That said, I am not particularly interested in seeing those ‘expletives.’
The fact that I don’t feel obligated to see them is a benefit of being a member of a small high school class that, as far as I know, has never had a reunion in the 20 years (I said it again) since we walked across the stage and into our futures.
What was then my future has been pretty cool, as it turns out.
I’ve done many things I’ve never imagined I’d do and have met a ton of awesome and interesting people along the way.
It hasn’t been so bad for a would-be writer stuck in a high school that specialized in aviation technologies. (Scary enough, I once held a license to repair aircraft. Think about that the next time you fly if you dare.)
Abercrombie and Fitch CEO Michael S. Jeffries would cringe if he ever saw the teenage me in his company's clothes.
With my bird’s nest-like hair and Value City/church bin wardrobe I was far from one of the “cool, good-looking people” that Jeffries said his company wanted to market to.
Jeffries and Abercrombie came under fire recently after his 2006 anti-nerd and anti-fatty comments resurfaced.
I digress.
I learned years ago that high school is what you do before you become who you are going to be.
That might be a scary truth for the jerks who perk in 12th grade.
For the rest it has to be a comfort.
After graduation you can no longer be forced to associate with anyone you don't want to until, that is, you get your first job.
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