| Commentary and Philosophy Non-Fiction posted December 17, 2013 | Chapters: |
...53 54 -55- 56... 
|
  |
The Never Starting Story
A chapter in the book The Never Starting Story
Chapter 55: That's You?
by michaelcahill
"That's you?"
That is the standard response upon showing an old picture of myself to someone. My, what a lovely compliment that is.
"Yes, I have aged so hideously as to become unrecognizable in any way as my younger self. Thank you so much for noticing!"
My wife looks exactly like she did in high school. Isn't that lovely. The warmth we all feel grows like a little campfire. We can all burn our current pictures in it. A vintage picture of me and Donna always gets the same response, "Donna hasn't changed a bit. Who's that with her?"
Do you wonder how you measure up against your old school chums? Are you aging better than they? Are you more successful? Should you attend that fortieth high school reunion? What kind of lies should you be devising to cover-up the disappointments of your life? It is important to impress your closest and dearest friends unseen in forty years.
With the age of technology, access to information is now readily available. We can log onto a social media site, like Facebook, and take a peek. We can even say hello. If you are wondering what ever happened to "the prom queen", log on, and take a look. Of course, if they are wondering what ever happened to "the most likely to have a number one novel", they can do the same!
I should have attended my thirtieth high school reunion. I was relatively well-to-do. I still looked young and much like I did in high school. I had the hot wife, of course. It would have been my opportunity to "rule-the-school".
Between the thirtieth and thirty fifth reunions age hit me. My face became weary of clinging to my skull and just dropped off. My body angered at my years of neglect wrecked its vengeance upon me. Suddenly if I looked at a picture of food, I gained weight.
If I bent over to pluck a flower for my love, I pulled a muscle. If I tried to jump from a height over two feet I discovered that I no longer had shock absorbers installed. Jumping held no difficulty. Landing presented painful problems and required copious quantities of ice.
Fortunately I could still tolerate alcohol as well as ever. That worked out well in my new condition.
It became necessary at this juncture to develop charm and wit. It has reached a point now where that is all I have to offer. As I like to say, "I look much better in the dark." The early morning screams of horror though are most disheartening.
Donna is now using reading glasses. Her vision is getting blurry! God does answer prayer.
Most bullies, especially ones that are not very intelligent, end up going nowhere. Physical intimidation has very little place in the real world. There is room, however, for bullies that are also intelligent. They have components that can take them far in life. There is no one famous from my high school days. But, the aggressive goal orientated high achievers have done well for themselves in general.
The rest of the crowd present a mixed bag. The poor students make for poor citizens for the most part. But, the kids in the middle have surprising success stories. There are many school teachers, nurses and professional people amongst them.
There are many that work various jobs on a regular basis and make a living. There are a great many that live below the poverty level and struggle. Some have passed away and some have vanished not to be found.
Their perception of me as I reconnect surprises me. It does not match my perception for the most part. My memories are a great deal different.
"The last time I saw you, you were doing a crazy dance in front of the Alhambra Theater. You were hilarious."
"I remember you. You were always singing some crazy song you made up. Funny."
"You were always talking to a crowd of people about some issue. They would listen too."
"I never saw you without at least three chicks."
None of that sounded familiar or matched my recollection.
"You were so quiet and such a loner. You seemed sad."
"A melancholy boy, off by yourself playing the guitar."
That sounded more like the "me" that I perceived from those days. A few, but not many, saw me that way as well.
In the same way, my perceptions of those I contacted received surprise as well. Upon telling someone my recollections of them invariably the response would be, "Really, I never knew anyone saw me that way."
The question that has lingered in my mind all these years is, "Why, if these people were such an integral part of your life for four years, did you not contact a single one of them for thirty five years?"
The answer is in several parts. First of all, our only connection or bond is the fact that we are all in high school together. Once high school ends, that connection is broken. That eliminates the need to continue contact with most of your classmate's right there.
Secondly, graduation is a natural time of moving on in a young person's life. We are entering the world now, to college, to work, to war or to marry and raise a family. Finally, for many of us there is a desire to put high school behind us. We want to close that chapter and move on to new things.
That is the case with me. All of those reasons and especially the last one is why I cut all contact with that period in my life. There is one other factor that has occurred to me.
The sense of community had altered in this country by 1970, the year I graduated. There was no longer a Liebergs Department Store for Jon Lieberg to go and run on Main Street in his hometown. There was no longer a Pedrini's Music for Vicki Pedrini to take over for her parents.
Nor would those shops be there for me to frequent and walk in and say, "Hi Vicki, how's it going?" or "What's up Jon, how's business?" Those shops were gone and replaced with ones whose workers I didn't know.
Leo's Ice Cream Parlor was gone. The Alhambra Library with the cool fish pond where we all hung out was gone. There was only a sterile square library there now. No benches or trees or grass or anything that would invite anyone to hang out existed there.
I didn't shop on Main Street, there wasn't any place to shop at. I didn't run in to anyone I knew because we weren't there to encounter each other.
I peek in on my old friends once in a while to see what became of them. Just curious, I suppose. I imagine they peek in on me too.
My forty-fifth high school reunion is coming up soon.
Maybe there will be some pictures on Facebook to peek at.
"That's you?"
That is the standard response upon showing an old picture of myself to someone. My, what a lovely compliment that is.
"Yes, I have aged so hideously as to become unrecognizable in any way as my younger self. Thank you so much for noticing!"
My wife looks exactly like she did in high school. Isn't that lovely. The warmth we all feel grows like a little campfire. We can all burn our current pictures in it. A vintage picture of me and Donna always gets the same response, "Donna hasn't changed a bit. Who's that with her?"
Do you wonder how you measure up against your old school chums? Are you aging better than they? Are you more successful? Should you attend that fortieth high school reunion? What kind of lies should you be devising to cover-up the disappointments of your life? It is important to impress your closest and dearest friends unseen in forty years.
With the age of technology, access to information is now readily available. We can log onto a social media site, like Facebook, and take a peek. We can even say hello. If you are wondering what ever happened to "the prom queen", log on, and take a look. Of course, if they are wondering what ever happened to "the most likely to have a number one novel", they can do the same!
I should have attended my thirtieth high school reunion. I was relatively well-to-do. I still looked young and much like I did in high school. I had the hot wife, of course. It would have been my opportunity to "rule-the-school".
Between the thirtieth and thirty fifth reunions age hit me. My face became weary of clinging to my skull and just dropped off. My body angered at my years of neglect wrecked its vengeance upon me. Suddenly if I looked at a picture of food, I gained weight.
If I bent over to pluck a flower for my love, I pulled a muscle. If I tried to jump from a height over two feet I discovered that I no longer had shock absorbers installed. Jumping held no difficulty. Landing presented painful problems and required copious quantities of ice.
Fortunately I could still tolerate alcohol as well as ever. That worked out well in my new condition.
It became necessary at this juncture to develop charm and wit. It has reached a point now where that is all I have to offer. As I like to say, "I look much better in the dark." The early morning screams of horror though are most disheartening.
Donna is now using reading glasses. Her vision is getting blurry! God does answer prayer.
Most bullies, especially ones that are not very intelligent, end up going nowhere. Physical intimidation has very little place in the real world. There is room, however, for bullies that are also intelligent. They have components that can take them far in life. There is no one famous from my high school days. But, the aggressive goal orientated high achievers have done well for themselves in general.
The rest of the crowd present a mixed bag. The poor students make for poor citizens for the most part. But, the kids in the middle have surprising success stories. There are many school teachers, nurses and professional people amongst them.
There are many that work various jobs on a regular basis and make a living. There are a great many that live below the poverty level and struggle. Some have passed away and some have vanished not to be found.
Their perception of me as I reconnect surprises me. It does not match my perception for the most part. My memories are a great deal different.
"The last time I saw you, you were doing a crazy dance in front of the Alhambra Theater. You were hilarious."
"I remember you. You were always singing some crazy song you made up. Funny."
"You were always talking to a crowd of people about some issue. They would listen too."
"I never saw you without at least three chicks."
None of that sounded familiar or matched my recollection.
"You were so quiet and such a loner. You seemed sad."
"A melancholy boy, off by yourself playing the guitar."
That sounded more like the "me" that I perceived from those days. A few, but not many, saw me that way as well.
In the same way, my perceptions of those I contacted received surprise as well. Upon telling someone my recollections of them invariably the response would be, "Really, I never knew anyone saw me that way."
The question that has lingered in my mind all these years is, "Why, if these people were such an integral part of your life for four years, did you not contact a single one of them for thirty five years?"
The answer is in several parts. First of all, our only connection or bond is the fact that we are all in high school together. Once high school ends, that connection is broken. That eliminates the need to continue contact with most of your classmate's right there.
Secondly, graduation is a natural time of moving on in a young person's life. We are entering the world now, to college, to work, to war or to marry and raise a family. Finally, for many of us there is a desire to put high school behind us. We want to close that chapter and move on to new things.
That is the case with me. All of those reasons and especially the last one is why I cut all contact with that period in my life. There is one other factor that has occurred to me.
The sense of community had altered in this country by 1970, the year I graduated. There was no longer a Liebergs Department Store for Jon Lieberg to go and run on Main Street in his hometown. There was no longer a Pedrini's Music for Vicki Pedrini to take over for her parents.
Nor would those shops be there for me to frequent and walk in and say, "Hi Vicki, how's it going?" or "What's up Jon, how's business?" Those shops were gone and replaced with ones whose workers I didn't know.
Leo's Ice Cream Parlor was gone. The Alhambra Library with the cool fish pond where we all hung out was gone. There was only a sterile square library there now. No benches or trees or grass or anything that would invite anyone to hang out existed there.
I didn't shop on Main Street, there wasn't any place to shop at. I didn't run in to anyone I knew because we weren't there to encounter each other.
I peek in on my old friends once in a while to see what became of them. Just curious, I suppose. I imagine they peek in on me too.
My forty-fifth high school reunion is coming up soon.
Maybe there will be some pictures on Facebook to peek at.
I had been posting this as a book. The previous chapters are posted there. The rest of this will be posted as individual stories. This is a non formatted piece. I consider it a book. It concerns my life though not in any particular order. I am open to suggestions as to topics of discussion. I write about my life or my views on various things.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. 
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. michaelcahill All rights reserved. Registered copyright with FanStory.
michaelcahill has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
