My 50 year reunion didn’t inspire me as much as I had expected. That could explain why it took me over a month before I wrote about it. The other might be that everything I wrote didn’t evolve beyond a sentence or two. Seemed forced or too embellished. Today it came out, good or bad.

Because our drive from home to the high school to the restaurant and finally home again was maybe 4 miles, so there was little time for deep conversation about what to expect from the pending evening. Our short conversation in transit was mostly regarding our ride for the evening. Our youngest had let us borrow his two-week old Audi SQ8 for the night so we were more like teenagers exploring this high-tech hotrod than bitching about school. We were meeting at the school for a tour of the building; this is the way I understood it anyway. West High is the oldest public high school in the state of Utah and is slated for possible demolition because of the cost to retrofit for earthquakes. This was my incentive to see it once more before it got knocked down. The parking lot was across the street from the school and I purposely parked away from other vehicles. I didn’t want to chance a door-ding. There was a small group gathered outside the front door chatting. We joined them but since no one acknowledged us we headed inside. The interior seemed familiar with the giant Panther mascot taking up a good portion of the entry. People were posing for pictures around the Mascot. They all seemed happy and excited to be back by their beloved Panther statue. I rarely came into school by the front door so I didn’t share the same affection and wasn’t interested in a picture for posterity. I still didn’t recognize anyone as we walked by and entered a large room. None of this space looked familiar so I cannot attest to its provenance. There were many round tables and chairs setup throughout the space with possibly 40-50 people milling around. I kept scanning the faces but saw no one familiar. As we got closer to the middle of the space I noticed, out of the corner of my eye a screen behind us playing a slideshow. I bet the picture I had submitted after a request from the organizer was somewhere in there. It was fun to watch. As the faces clicked past I was surprised how many of them I didn’t remember. It was alphabetic and currently on the M’s when I started watching so I knew it would be a minute before I made an appearance. I’m an H and there were 400-500 students (I don’t remember to actual number.) Slowly but surely a small crowd of old friends started to assemble. One old friend I expected to see finally arrived. He was mingling but not getting much traction as far as conversations went. Lisa decided to go rescue him. He looked at her like felt he should know who she was but couldn’t figure it out. He hugged her when it finally clicked and they walked back to where I was standing. It was good to see Don. He traveled alone because his wife Lori had stayed behind in California. Another friend and his wife (also a former student) joined us as we chatted. We all agreed we needed to mingle and say hello. I would look at the face and then the name badge with photo to help kickstart my memory. Some were “Oh yeah!” but most were nothing more than vague recollections. We smiled exchanged pleasantries and moved on. Don and I approached one huddle of men that had formed a circle with about six of them. We smiled and greeted them while looking at their badge and their face and expected a reciprocal hello. A disapproving frown is the most we got from the one we were closest to. The face and the name registered. He was an asshole then and he is a bigger asshole now. 50 years and you can’t even muster a “Hi”. What a dick! It was then that I remembered he was one of a select few of his ilk in school and they were all in this circle together. At this point I stood up a little straighter. I smiled knowing I was taller, slimmer and had more hair than he did. More importantly, I had a much more attractive wife. All very childlike I know, but this is a high school reunion right?

At dinner, we hooked up with another good friend and his wife that Lisa and I recently had lunch with. They had saved us a seat. Collectively, our little group had a great time catching up. Through out dinner Don would ask if I had seen this person or that which I generally replied “No.” It wasn’t until the next day the light went on. The names he mentioned didn’t ring a bell until now and I was sad I hadn’t seen them. Dinner continued and other conversations were had during the queue in other food, dessert and beverage lines.

In the days that followed, I started thinking about all the friends I missed seeing. I pulled up the roster of attendees to prompt my memory. I felt a little better. It isn’t so much I didn’t see them as it was they weren’t there to be seen. 50 years is quite a long time and there were some important people in those early days. Some are gone, some are missing and some don’t want to be found. The few I did see made me glad I came and reminded me that I don’t miss high-school even a little.