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Martinsville High School Alumni
| Class of 1964 |
Message List
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| Most Likely to Enjoy a Reunion - 11 |
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09/25/01
Judy Crews
(1964)
jgcrews@us.ibm.com
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I just read the following column in the Raleigh paper, enjoyed it, and thought I'd
share it with our class in the hope that everyone will try their best to attend our
next reunion planned for next June, 2002:
"I'm about to commit a terrible indiscretion. I'm prepared to admit that not only did
I attend my 35th high school class reunion last week--a confession that reveals
exactly how unfashionably old I am--but that I had a good time. That's right. I
enjoyed myself. Even though there are few things cornier than a class reunion, I
loved every minute. If that doesn't mark me as a hopelessly sentimental chump,
nothing will--not even the tears I shed every time I get to the end of ""It's a
Wonderful Life."" Class reunions have a terrible reputation. Most people treat
their high-school years as an embarrassing time that's best forgotten. It's true:
Your time in high school is awkward, emotional and psychologically debilitating.
You're trapped in a narrow, rigid caste system at precisely the point in your life when
the larger world is crooking its finger, beckoning you. You're at the mercy of
impulses you don't quite understand and over which you have virtually no control.
Plus you probably got a wedgie from a senior at some point. Sorry if all that left
you permanently wounded, but that was then. This is now. If for no other reason,
high school reunions are valuable because they give you the chance to revise your
opinions about classmates. For instance, you may encounter an old pal and within
minutes find yourself wondering why you were ever freinds with this fool. Or you
could spend an unexpected amount of time talking to someone you barely knew, and
realize that he or she is much more interesting than you ever realized. (I'm not even
going to mention the cheerleader or moody poet you had a secret crush on, and
who turns out to be just as enticing as you remember. What you do after the
reunion, or in the coat closet, is your own business.) My only unhappiness with
high school reunions, in fact, is that the people at the far ends of the success-and-
failure scale tend to stay away. In my case, the class celebrities are Boyd--who
became a Broadway Award winner--and Will, whose screen play was made into a
movie that's about to be realeased and is already getting some Oscar buzz. Neither
showed up. At the other end of the scale is Joe, the big, scary thug who once stole
my friend's shoes and, when confronted, dared him to do anything about it. Joe
didn't show up, either, but he had a better excuse. He's dead.
There is also the chance that a class reunion will produce an old friend who, until
that moment, seemed to have been swallowed by the mists of time--but I hadn't
seen since we left high school. When I spotted him at the reunion we talked a
while. At least I talked. After a few minutes, I realized that Leigh only seemed to
be nodding agreeably as I chattered away. I finally understood what was happening:
even though we all wore nametags, Leigh was drawing a blank. ""You don't
remember me, do you?"" I asked. Leigh just shook his head. At least he had the
good grace to look sheepish."
Let's all get the word out to our classmates to make this upcoming reunion the best
one ever!!
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