Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts
By Alyce Wilson
My
fellow classmates and band compadres
I'm on the right, second one back.
I just received the second mailing about my upcoming 15th year high school class reunion. This time I barely flinched.
The class president has gone all out, planning an entire weekend of activities.
The reunion will be held on Homecoming Weekend this time around, and the first planned event will be attending the homecoming game at Alumni Field, our school's football stadium.
I have many fond memories of football games at Alumni Field. In junior high, my friends and I used to go to the games nearly every Friday. There was a cinder track between the football field and the bleachers, and we could walk around the track and check out boys. I was at a football game on my 13th birthday when I got my period for the first time. Fortunately, you could buy maxipads in the restroom.
Then, in high school I played clarinet in the marching band. We attended every game, paying little attention to the game but playing the fight song or other fun songs whenever the director told us to. We were happiest when the team was having a bad season, because it was more fun to crack jokes about them than to root for them to win.
After the homecoming game, the class president has scheduled a post-game party at his house. I had to think about this for a minute, because at first I pictured the little white house where his parents live and where I used to ride by on my bike frequently when I had a crush on him in eighth grade. My best friend lived just a block away, and I used to persuade her to take walks by his house to see if we could see him. She goodnaturedly humored me.
I'm sure we'll have the party at whatever new house he's managed to acquire with his lawyer's wages. You know, come to think of it, this is the second time I was ever invited to an actual party by one of my high school classmates. The first time was at graduation. We bandos didn't need parties to have our fun; we could hang out in a parking lot drinking sodas and talking like the MacKenzie Brothers. That was enough, eh?
On Saturday, at a time to be determined later, we're supposed to tour the high school with our class advisor. The school has undergone a lot of changes since we graduated. I saw some of them in progress when I was a reporter in that area for a few years. But the construction work has since been completed, and it will be interesting to see what they've done with the place.
Just imagine: they've completely removed the concourse where two flute players punched me in the stomach one day because I'd criticized their playing. You wouldn't think flute players could be so tough, but then again, you've probably never told them they were playing flat.
And then that evening will be the class reunion, held at a local hotel that's frequently the site of wedding receptions and other special dinners. I know that room well; it's full of mirrors. Every single wall and corner, mirrors, mirrors, mirrors. What a fascinating choice for the reunion. Not one of us will be able to hide from the realities of time. It makes me giddy, just thinking about it.
But I'm actually looking forward to the reunion now, since speaking to one of my friends from high school (one of the "brains" who was also a drummer in the band). We've been laying plans for awhile now, trying to persuade those we'd like to see again to show up.
I've already written a letter to a good friend to whom I hadn't spoken since he freaked me out by trying to evangelize me. I tried to be a little funny, a little wistful, hoping that I could convince him to go to the reunion, or at least write me back. So far, nothing. I suppose God disapproves of reunions.
Well, if none of them come, at least my band friend and I can sit in a corner, snickering at it all and reliving old high school band moments. Like the time everyone picked up the band instructor's tiny car and moved it onto the sidewalk.
Good times.
More thoughts on my 15th reunion:
September 10, 2003 - Reunion Snag
October 16, 2003 - Reunion Countdown
October 24, 2003 - Idle Thoughts
October 29, 2003 - My Old School
October 30, 2003 - Catching Up
Moral:
Reunions are more fun when you don't care about impressing anyone.
Copyright
2003 by Alyce Wilson
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