I turned 50 this year along with two of my favorite cousins. Happy birthday Linda! Happy birthday Reb! Happy birthday me! I am so glad that we reached this milestone together … misery loves company, eh?
This past weekend my high school class of ’79 got together back in upstate NY to celebrate our collective 50th birthdays! It has been fun reconnecting this past year with many classmates on Facebook and this morning I have been enjoying the pictures that some classmates have posted from the weekend’s events. It would appear that I missed a fun party last night.
It has been interesting the past few months listening to classmates reminiscing on Facebook. Occasionally I am reminded of some good time, some interesting teacher, or some event that I had forgotten. More often I am struck by how different my perception of high school was from those of my peers. A dream I had last night about sums up how high school felt to me … I was at the 50th birthday party, only we all had not aged a bit from 30 years ago. Music was playing. People were dancing. I was having a blast singing along to the music as I danced until I suddenly realized that I still had the towel on my head from when I washed my hair. When I took the towel off, my hair had dried all funny looking, sticking up all over. I frantically search the hallways, looking for a bathroom so that I can try to comb the hair in place. And then I wake up. Phew! And that is how high school was for me, a place of occasional fun with friends, but fraught with imminent social disasters and the pervasive feeling of being lost. Perhaps high school is wasted on 16 year olds; we should go when we are 50!