Reunited and it feels so okay
So the big weekend came and left, and not much seems to have changed. I think I mentioned that I had two 20-year high-school reunion engagements: the "anti-reunion" at someone's house and the $83 one at a hotel.
The former took place in a friend's backyard which overlooked Yorba Linda. Massive barbecue. There were probably 10 classmates, most of whom had a spouse and kids present. No huge surprises, except that everyone is still nice and a couple of them live nearby. I should see them more often than every 10 or 20 years.
The latter was way less personal but perhaps more dishworthy because it was so much more competitive. Well, people did try to bring decent dishes to the potluck, but that's not the same as lacquering on the hairspray, squeezing into a cocktail dresses, or putting on that suit that's a little too small. We got there an hour late, just when the salad was served. There was an emcee who directed the crowd through things like "who has been married the longest" and "who has the most kids" but we didn't really listen.
Because we were among the very last arrivals, Greg and Kelly and Wendy and I sat on either side of another couple. The classmate was someone that we didn't know well but wound up being an interesting dude. Makes videogames for LucasFilm, owns three Shiba Inu, and goes to Comic-Con. Also super goth and just married to another goth. I couldn't tell you who had longer hair, blacker hair, whiter skin, or more piercings. I love goth couples, and they were so friendly and cool, too.
It was funny that on my other side of Wendy and me were three middle-of-the-road women who live in South Orange County beach towns. One of them was doing the home-schooling thing. Totally opposite lifestyle. Wendy said it was good we sat where we did because they probably wouldn't have made much conversation with the couple in black.
Afterwards, we attempted to mingle and maybe six or seven people remembered us and said hi. Everyone seemed very successful and very tanned. Kelly suggested that Greg and I switch badges. We did, and no one noticed the difference.
Yes, we caught up with a few people here and there, but the best part came when Greg and I were catching up with a punk rock dude who had a locker near us. Wendy and Kelly were sitting ducks, on their own with hand-written nametags, when two guys instigated a conversation like this:
"Wendy and Kelly, remember us?"
"No, we didn't go to Canyon."
"Oh, you must be a different Wendy and Kelly than the ones we went to school with. But you should come up to our room for a party. We're in 1012."
Or something like that. The dudes were older, gross looking, and super sleazy, and I don't think they were students. But you have to admire their guts. I wonder if they got any that night? Maybe from the Santa Ana class of 66, which was having a Hawaii-themed reunion?
Another interesting part of the night was getting a reunion zine where people submitted their life stories since Canyon. Most were straight, saccharine, and whatever. A few were actually cool. And then there was a tragic one or two. During dinner, Greg and Kelly were flipping through it and laughing their heads off until Wendy and I reminded them that the contributor could be standing right behind them! I feel bad for being so amused by the book but not contributing to it. The actual specimen is as low-tech and uncool as you can get, yet totally gripping.
In the end, I'm glad we went to both events: two very different sides of the same school.
Irvine Marriott, July 29, 2006
The former took place in a friend's backyard which overlooked Yorba Linda. Massive barbecue. There were probably 10 classmates, most of whom had a spouse and kids present. No huge surprises, except that everyone is still nice and a couple of them live nearby. I should see them more often than every 10 or 20 years.
The latter was way less personal but perhaps more dishworthy because it was so much more competitive. Well, people did try to bring decent dishes to the potluck, but that's not the same as lacquering on the hairspray, squeezing into a cocktail dresses, or putting on that suit that's a little too small. We got there an hour late, just when the salad was served. There was an emcee who directed the crowd through things like "who has been married the longest" and "who has the most kids" but we didn't really listen.
Because we were among the very last arrivals, Greg and Kelly and Wendy and I sat on either side of another couple. The classmate was someone that we didn't know well but wound up being an interesting dude. Makes videogames for LucasFilm, owns three Shiba Inu, and goes to Comic-Con. Also super goth and just married to another goth. I couldn't tell you who had longer hair, blacker hair, whiter skin, or more piercings. I love goth couples, and they were so friendly and cool, too.
It was funny that on my other side of Wendy and me were three middle-of-the-road women who live in South Orange County beach towns. One of them was doing the home-schooling thing. Totally opposite lifestyle. Wendy said it was good we sat where we did because they probably wouldn't have made much conversation with the couple in black.
Afterwards, we attempted to mingle and maybe six or seven people remembered us and said hi. Everyone seemed very successful and very tanned. Kelly suggested that Greg and I switch badges. We did, and no one noticed the difference.
Yes, we caught up with a few people here and there, but the best part came when Greg and I were catching up with a punk rock dude who had a locker near us. Wendy and Kelly were sitting ducks, on their own with hand-written nametags, when two guys instigated a conversation like this:
"Wendy and Kelly, remember us?"
"No, we didn't go to Canyon."
"Oh, you must be a different Wendy and Kelly than the ones we went to school with. But you should come up to our room for a party. We're in 1012."
Or something like that. The dudes were older, gross looking, and super sleazy, and I don't think they were students. But you have to admire their guts. I wonder if they got any that night? Maybe from the Santa Ana class of 66, which was having a Hawaii-themed reunion?
Another interesting part of the night was getting a reunion zine where people submitted their life stories since Canyon. Most were straight, saccharine, and whatever. A few were actually cool. And then there was a tragic one or two. During dinner, Greg and Kelly were flipping through it and laughing their heads off until Wendy and I reminded them that the contributor could be standing right behind them! I feel bad for being so amused by the book but not contributing to it. The actual specimen is as low-tech and uncool as you can get, yet totally gripping.
In the end, I'm glad we went to both events: two very different sides of the same school.
Irvine Marriott, July 29, 2006
posted by gr at
3:22 PM
Post a Comment
<< Home