I wanna go back/Because I’m feeling so much bolder
But I can’t go back I know
Am I really starting a Klog by quoting an Eddie Money song? Man, o man, I really need to work on my openings. I have found myself in a weird state of mind lately. The fact of the matter, that never in a million years would I ever want to go back. It was such an awkward time for me in so many ways. There are stretches-very long stretches-where I cannot recall a thing. Maybe it’s some sort of deep psychological defense, maybe it’s the passage of time, maybe it’s from all the drinking. I still have almost nightmare like dreams every September. I cringe at some of those times. I hated so much of my time there.
Because it wasn’t me.
I mean, sure, I was there those four years. I did experience a lot; learn a lot, too, I guess. But it just wasn’t me. I never looked at it like the golden time so many others do. I blended in, but never stood out. I just made my way through. The few friendships I did make there pretty much ended soon afterwards. I hated those days, and I hated me those days. I was never comfortable in my geek skin. I had no confidence, surely no sense of style, no luck with the women folk. So why the hell would I want to go back? Why would I want to spend a night with these people? Simple.
Because it wasn’t me.
In case you haven’t figured it out yet; or stopped reading after the Eddie Money reference, I am talking about high school. It was 20 years ago for me. Exactly 20 years. As in the reunion is this Friday 20 years. So what has happened these last 20 years for me to want to see these people? Well, I think I have some answers. I don’t have all the answers, but maybe by writing it out, I will discover them.
High school is a wealth of stereotypes and storylines. While we all went to different schools, with different people, I assure you, some things are exactly the same. Every school has it’s jocks, its nerds, it’s smart kids, popular girls, etc. I’m willing to bet some of the situations you found yourself in are no different than any other kid. I am sure you had an ‘impossible class’ with a ‘dickhead teacher.’ I am sure you failed tests, fought with friends, had awkward social situations, came of age, even had a crush on someone for the whole 4 years and never told them.
I’m sure we all had the same stereotypical teachers; the easy ones, the funny ones, the strict ones, the yellers, the eccentrics etc. For example, our eccentric was our chem teacher who didn’t wear deodorant because he thought there was some sort of foreign chemical in it. Chem was never fun when it was spring, because my HS was so ghetto, we didn’t have AC or even fans. I remember after I handed in one lab report, he wrote ‘see me’ on it. I was so chickenshit, I never did. This went on for months.
A lot of it-not so surprisingly-has to do with me. I know I have grown so much (I won’t say matured, per se) since then. The Kev 20 years ago was shy, nervous, unconfident, quiet, unsure…geez, as I go on, I can understand why I never had a date in high school.
And to be honest, I still possess some of those traits to this day. I am still shy, a bit quiet at times. Ultimately, I think the biggest difference is I am now more confident in myself these days. Sure the last 2 years of being relatively jobless can wreck serious havoc, but I feel that will be resolved very soon. Notwithstanding, I am very comfortable in my skin. I know my weaknesses and shortcomings. And while I may never beat them, I have learned to live with them and manage them.
I say it took me years to grow into my coolness; to be OK with who I am. I am still a nerd and a geek, but the difference is I now accept it. I don’t fight things like this anymore. I think we probably all harbor some sort of perfect image of who we can be one day. All kinds of “One day I will…” scenarios. I am convinced everybody thinks this way. Few of us ever realize that vision, and you know what? That’s OK. Sometimes there are just things you can’t ever change about yourself. But if you can step back and realize it, man, I’m tellin’ ya, that’s half the battle. For example, I find fart jokes eternally funny; like laugh out loud funny. Most other ‘people my age’ probably got over that years ago. OK, so that’s a bad example. But, tough, I yam what I yam a sailor once told me.
And let’s face it. I am sure there is a big element of “look at me” at these things. I get that. I am sure all the girls that were hot back in the day, still want to be thought of as that way. Even if their picture regularly appears on PeopleOfWalmart.com. I am vain enough-and confident enough- to say we all secretly hope everyone else looks like shit while we don’t. It’s not coincidence that I am posting old pics of me with rock stars on FB this week. Ha, take that anonymous internet stalker. Jealous much?
I’ve grown a few inches (that’s what she said), and have spent some time in the gym the last nine years. So I reckon to say that I will be in better shape than most of the jocks. Yea, bench pressing 120 POUNDS OF IRON, with no spotter I might add, really piles the muscle on. Not that I am going to get too caught up in the image thing. But for the rest of the week, I will be popping runway model strength fat burners and WWE level steroids. Just don’t tell any of them that.
I’ve often joked that I would go to the 20 if my hair was still long and my girl was smoking hot. Well, my hair isn’t as long as it used to be, but my wife is smoking hot. And I would still say that, even if I didn’t think she read these Klogs. And she’s going to be even hotter in the little number I picked up for her to wear at Fredericks. Fringe and animal print never go out of style. Giggity.
Speaking of the wife, checking out who married who will be another spectator sport. To wit, I am sure many are expecting my wife to have one eye bigger than the other, have a humpback, walk with a pronounced limp and only know rudimentary English. The assumption is fair, as I, myself, can’t wait to see what some of these spouses look like. O what sweet revenge it would be to see the former hot chick with her third husband, who speaks fluent Klingon and has pre-existing mustard stains on his shirt. I would really hope to see one of the nerds marrying outside his league. But,
I am sure we will be in the minority. I am sure most of my classmates are married with kids. Perusing the profile shots on the guestlist, I am shocked at who had offspring. I guess we will be the odd ones as others blather on about how many books Madison reads and how young Logan is the smartest non Asian kid in class. Aside from that, hearing that these now adults-who for years had been filed away in my mind frozen as ‘18 year old dipshit’-will most likely be fine upstanding members of society. Well, that, and hearing how all these people have 2-4 kids in their midteens-almost the same age as when I knew their parents-will make me feel interminably OLD. And while I may feel old, I assure you those same little angels have aged their loving parents exponentially. Game, set, match-us.
Bonus Material
Commentary
Since I believe long posts turn people off, I have chopped up this post to be in 3 Klogs. Look for Pt 2 in a day or two.
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