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April 28, 2006

Other and Child Reunion

I am a bad human being. In the mail, I recently got an invitation to my 20 year high school reunion. Am I terrible because I have absolutely no interest in going?

Before you answer, keep in mind that I was part of the planning committee for the 5 and 10 year bashes, and that I spent plenty of time wishing eternal diarrhea on those of my classmates who, in 1991 and 1996, couldn't be bothered to reward the hard work of the planning committee (okay, I was mostly concerned about me) by simply attending a party.

But this year, despite plenty of success to show off (and despite being single enough to be a potential target for the hot divorcees from my class after their third cosmo), I just can't get myself to be interested in going. I just don't want to go. So I won't be.

Now am I terrible?


The idea of going back to Minnesota just holds no appeal to me. It's a fine state and I'm not ripping the people, but I left there under what you might call challenging emotional circumstances... and I am a firm believer that emotions can imprint themselves so deeply and so physically on a place that it resonates long after they would otherwise have faded. I got proof of this concept this week, when my flights to and from New Mexico connected through Minneapolis. (For those in my extended family in Minny or those from my childhood who've managed to track me down here in blogtopia, don't get your girdles in a bunch... I was literally there for under 30 minutes each way... enough time to get off my arriving plane, walk to the other gate -- both times in another terminal -- buy a newspaper and hit Starbucks, and then board my departing plane. There was no time to spare, and no time to call anyone.)

Even though I was there for less than an hour in total, I was struck by how quickly the old emotions that had imprinted themselves on me about my former home state came back. I got a stomach ache, a tension headache... my irritability level spiked dramatically (you wouldn't have wanted to be the person in front of me standing in the "walk" aisle of the moving sidewalk thingy, let's just say that), and for the entirety of my walk between gates I had this sense of dread that I would run into somebody -- not just the somebody, but any somebody. This is a very odd thing, because it's not like the incident that led to my leaving home and moving 1000 miles away affects me outwardly now... I mean, it still colors my general outlook I suppose, but other than having turned me into a curmudgeon it's not like I've consciously thought about it in a long time. And yet, here I was walking through the airport feeling absolutely tense and crushed and uncomfortable. I couldn't wait to get on the plane and be gone. And once we were airborne, the physical symptoms indeed receded.

But beyond the discomfort of returning to the physical location, there's another reason I don't want to go. Again, this is with all due respect to the people I went to high school with... but since my life is pretty much divided into pre-move east and post-move east, high school and everything about it just feels like it was another lifetime ago. CRHS and everything associated with it just isn't me anymore... in 1996 I had only been gone 20 months when the ten year came about, and my parents still lived there, which meant that I was still getting back two or three times a year -- so there was still some residual "old me" left that drew me to attend. But this time? My parents moved in the spring of '99, and I haven't been back to Minnesota since Christmas 1998 -- despite still having family there, including frequent contributor Cuzin' Jose. I haven't spoken to anyone there -- not even my closest friends while growing up -- since 1999 either. (A couple of them have tracked me down on this blog and made a comment or two, but those have been of the surprise variety and not planned.) Minnesota, wonderful place though it may be, is firmly ensconced in my rear-view mirror.

Whether it's a good thing -- a case of having moved on and reinvented myself in Gatsbyesque fashion -- or a bad (forgetting one's roots and developing an all-too-common case of northeastern self-superiority), I have cut the cord, moved on, and left just about everything from my life up to the age of 26 behind. I am a different person now -- in name, in outlook, in persona and personality -- and going back "home" for the reunion wouldn't just be visiting people who remind me of my previous life. It would be like paying an in-person visit to the old me.

And I think that's really why I don't want to go.

Anyone who's undergone a reinvention -- whether self-engineered or by circumstance -- faces that moment where their new self has to confront the old one. I guess I'm not ready for that. And so the Class of 1986 will hold its reunion this summer without me.

Posted by Christopher on April 28, 2006 07:08 AM

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Comments

Dude, you made me go to my 11th-year reunion so peddle on.

Posted by: Corey at April 28, 2006 08:22 AM

I never have attended one either, and I'm up to the 25th this coming year. I say just throw a party and invite the folks you miss the most.

Posted by: pemagnet at April 28, 2006 09:15 AM

It's all flyover country, man. You almost have to go. Close out this chapter in your life.

Posted by: The Editor at April 28, 2006 09:22 AM

Well, I didn't go to 10, and I'm 99% likely to be skipping 15 pretty soon, so I am not exactly the person to be talking you out of this. But I think it's a plus that you've admitted that what you don't feel like dealing with is the old you. FYI: Gatsby ends up dead in a swimming pool. Just so you know.

Posted by: Jill at April 28, 2006 11:03 AM

Jill: Gatsby is my favorite novel of all time... I am well aware of his fate. His self-transformation remains no less fascinating to me, his story no less gripping.

Besides, there's a streak in me that says if I were ever to be able to reach Gatsbyeqsue levels of charisma and je ne sais crois, but to get it I would have to accept a violent and early end... I might just take that bet.

Posted by: Curmudgeon at April 28, 2006 11:48 AM

Until six years ago my former classmates (1968) had no idea where I was, and most still don't unless they check the alumni association website (which I happily registered with), so I missed the 10th, 20th, 30th and no doubt will miss the 40th. I physically moved on three days after graduation; mentally it was thoroughly behind me within six months. It was a life experience among many, but that's all it was.

Raise a glass on the date of the reunion if you feel like it, but that's sufficient.

Posted by: Linkmeister at April 28, 2006 01:51 PM

I'm fascinated that the post of your musings on high school reunion/former lives/earlier life chapters is next door to your post on a 9-11 film which remembers what some think of as a former lifetime in our nation. A line from the post on 9-11 suggests that perhaps we've tried to move on but haven't healed. Maybe there's something to that in terms of 'our former lives.' I haven't been to a H.S. reunion either, but perhaps other people change as well.

Brett


Many of us have tried to heal and move on, much like a person who's lost a limb might do; while part of us may now be missing, we still have life to live. For those who are so traumatized by 9/11 that United 93 is discomforting, I would argue that the wounds have never healed -- so suggesting that this film might open them is, while not disingenuous, certainly a misunderstanding.

Posted by: hitman at April 28, 2006 02:06 PM

Hitman - your first comment, and right out of the gate you've got something tremendously pensive and deep to say that challenges me and makes me think. Well played, sir -- here's hoping that you'll be back.

One more thing, folks... "Editor" was not dissing the midwest, as it would appear on the surface. He was actually giving me an excellent, if subtle, push to get back into writing the novel I began last year, whose main plot device was exactly the kind of return to roots that I've just blogged about dreading. Editor saw my treatment for it and the first few pages/ideas, hence his enthusiasm for my getting back to work on it. Well done as well, Eddie Tor.

Posted by: Curmudgeon at April 28, 2006 02:36 PM

I'll be back. for sake of honesty-I'm not sure H.S. reunions hold any real value (for me)but there is one thing that has a kind of pull for me. On some level it means something to re-connect with some of the friends I used to have-the guys who were always friends. Differences in life and the changes of time aside, somewhere down at the core those are the friendships that have a kind of purity(however humorous some of them are). Just friends-no strings. Those are the guys that matter to me-we've got history...good, bad, and ugly...and still friends. Something about that seems good to me. Later

Posted by: hitman at April 28, 2006 05:55 PM

I think you should go, X. Don't you remember the rendezvous I had at my 20th reunion when I re-acquainted with the stoned helicopter pilot? (a perfect character for your novel, btw, and a whole chapter for my book). Reunions are a great place to find an interesting date, or maybe just a few characters.

Posted by: Nancy at May 1, 2006 11:32 PM

I went to my 10 year reunion and it wasn't so bad. It was interesting to see what happened to everyone. I think I was the only one there not married with children but I caught up a few years later. I'm guessing now the class of '84 didn't have a 20 year reunion. :)

Posted by: Julie at May 4, 2006 11:44 PM