Saturday, October 1, 2011

The World Does, Indeed, Change

There's something about Pepper's high school reunions that is so fascinating. Several of his classmates, particularly a few of the ladies, never seem to age. I've accused them on more than one occasion of possessing portraits of themselves in their attics that are beginning to resemble withered old crones.

Pepper's is the Class of '66 -- Vietnam era, the Beach Blanket Bingo generation. Mine is the Class of '72 -- second year of high school integration, last year of the Draft lottery.

Every single one of Pepper's classmates is white. Every single one. Most of the men served in the military for at least a few years; few in my class either wore, or respected, the uniform. Pepper's class learned of Kennedy's assassination in their high school classrooms where they could grasp some of the more dire consequences of that loss; I heard it over the intercom in my fourth grade room and wasn't quite sure why we would have no school for the remainder of the week.

I never really thought about the considerable differences in our high school experiences until last night while listening to them reminisce. Some of those differences, especially some of the "more innocent days," made me a little envious.

I guess one never really gets over being star-struck by the big kids.

3 comments:

  1. I can't imagine how Demi Moore and Ashton what's-his-name, or Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones, manage the age difference.

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  2. I have a friend who married a much younger woman - like 15 years his junior. I like both of them, and they seem to be doing well. Yet, I worry for them.

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  3. Pepper's class learned of Kennedy's assassination in their high school classrooms where they could grasp some of the more dire consequences of that loss; I heard it over the intercom in my fourth grade room and wasn't quite sure why we would have no school for the remainder of the week.

    And this year's graduating class has no idea who John Kennedy was, let alone the fact he was assassinated. Or mebbe I'm just cynically projecting.

    I think I'm missing out on one of life's more interesting experiences: I've never been to a high school reunion. But then again, I transferred in to the school I graduated from during my senior year, so I have no real bonds or lasting friendships with any of my classmates. That's the downside of bein' a military brat.

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