No, unlike many of the graduates in my class, I actually had plans after high school that DIDN'T involve immediately getting married to the girl I was banging senior year, moving into a crappy little walk up apartment, and getting a low-paying job driving a truck to support the ever growing brood of mildly functionally impaired children.
Well, to be fair, the vast majority of my classmates probably didn't share those plans either.
But holy hell that's how a lot of them turned out.
You know, it's really weird.
I look at my Mom and Dad. They graduated in the same high school class in 1953, in an area that is VERY similar socially and economically to where I grew up and graduated.
By and large their class was, and continues to be, EXTREMELY close. Dad was very much looking forward to his 55th reunion this year, but unfortunately he died.
Me, on the other hand? I look at most of my classmates with perhaps not contempt, but certainly disdain. Every reunion that has come up I claim that I'm going to be on vacation that week or that I simply won't be able to make it.
I see the people I want to see from that class, the people who mattered to me.
Over July 4th weekend my friend Dave and his wife and son came down for the fireworks. He and I graduated together; in fact he's my oldest friend. We've known each other for 40 of our 43 years.
