We knew it was going to happen. I've been talking about it for years. It was just a matter of time—a matter of when. And then came last Saturday…
I FINALLY CRASHED A HIGH SCHOOL REUNION!!!
My school years were spent in two different Chicago suburbs. K-8 was in Skokie. My high school years were in Highland Park. I have relationships with both groups, so when reunions occur, I go to both. A lot of times, they happen within a week or two of each other. So when I recap the events, I usually end with a joke about going to another reunion of a school I had no connection with—maybe New Trier or one of the Glenbrooks.
IT WAS A JOKE. But, the joke became reality a few nights ago.
We know how reunions usually go—10, 20, 30, 40, 50. Every ten years, right? But as folks get older, the rules get bent a little. You see classes trying to put a little something extra together. Somewhere in the middle makes sense—45 or 55. You hear a lot of talk about how much people want to be with each other, but in reality, it’s a little darker. Our senses of mortality sneak in. It’s scary, but if you go to one of these, check out the in-memorial tribute—and it will only get worse. Five more years will add a lot more to an already too-large list. Hence, welcome to the Fifty-Fifth Reunion.
Okay, now that I’ve bummed you out, how about I try to make you laugh. The HP Class of 1969, one year older than me—and I feel good about saying that—did their 55-thing over the weekend. I'm friends or at least friendly with more than a few of the members of the class. However, life tends to get in the way and I hadn't seen my peeps in more than a few years. I figured this would be a good opportunity.
Their committee planned three events for the weekend. The first was a Friday night ice-breaker at a local bar. I planned to go there, play catch-up with everyone and be done. But, sometimes plans go awry. There was a small turnout and I only saw two of whom I was hoping to see. It was time for some re-evaluation.
Saturday afternoon there was a tour of the high school. I didn't want to go. Entering the building brings back bad memories of my less-than-stellar academic and social career. But, to complete my goal, I sucked it up. As Steely Dan says, it was back to my old school.
The tour was better than I thought—I admit it was fun. It was a combined group thing with the class of 1974. My sister was a member of that class and I ran into quite a few people who remembered her, including her first boyfriend. Ahh…young love. But, still, I hadn't seen close to everyone I wanted to see.
At this point, I had given it a good try and was going to give up. But then, someone, who will remain anonymous, told me if I showed up at a certain time I could crash the event for free. Hmmm…why not?! At worst, I’m getting a free meal.
Off to Northfield, I went. And it went very well!
I walk into the restaurant, get a nametag and it’s time to mingle. One thing about these older-age reunions is you need to read the nametags to know who people are. That’s cool but when you’re crashing a reunion that isn’t yours, even when you read the nametag, many times you don’t have a clue who it is. Oh well, I can’t complain about that because IT WAS FREE!!
I grabbed some shrimp and started walking around—-and man, there was a lot of shrimp—well worth what I paid. Hey, there’s one of the women I wanted to see. She’s talking to another person I was looking for. Cool—a two-for-one group hug. Next was my sister’s best friend’s sister. Then came three people who I went to college with at the University of Oklahoma. It’s kind of odd that in a group of around sixty people, you had four who went to school at OU. BOOMER!! And then I saw my cousin Kat come in the door. She’s only in her mid-40s. What’s she doing here? I forgot her mother, who was formerly married to one of my many cousins, was part of this class. Kat tagged along as a plus-one. I wonder if she crashed the reunion, too.
By the end of the night, I had caught up with everyone I wanted to see except for two. Neither of them showed up. But, I believe they both paid in advance, so we can use their money to pay for me and Kat. I grabbed a few more shrimp, and a couple of cookies and then headed for home. Mission accomplished!
Wow! What a night! What a weekend. But now it’s almost a week later and I’m at a loss for what to do this weekend. Do you know of any other 55-year reunions? Evanston? Waukegan? Maybe Deerfield? That would be so convenient.
And about skipping out on the reunion fee…I promise I’ll get it to you in 2029—when I crash your 60th reunion. See ya’ll then.
Oh, you know I have to comment now. We should’ve left so early. The food was great. I’m gonna post pics of you to your Facebook page.