High School Reunion – Not
Sat., October 11, 10:31 AM
Stamford High School, Class of 1958, is holding its 45-year-reunion this weekend. I have decided not to attend. I am annoyed with them. Sister says, “Just forget it and go.” But Sister has had only one reunion – which was a totally different thing, since her class had been divided into two schools, one of which has been closed. I attended the last reunion, and that colors my opinions.
To begin with, it means a drive of at least an hour. If it’s held at night, someone else has to drive me. Five years ago, M.D. came with me – I can’t bring Husband, whose health won’t permit several hours on his feet, not to mention staying awake for all that time!
So I suggested to the planners – especially since I know I’m not the only one who doesn’t drive well at night – that they hold a daytime reunion, like a brunch. This one is also at night. So I have a choice between (1) buying two or three tickets, or (2) planning to stay in a nearby hotel so that I can get there on my own. Either way, I’m talking about a significant expense for me, and for what?
At the 40-year get-together, comparatively few of my friends attended. Since photographers were circulating among the tables, I ordered the picture book. (Expensive is a matter of perceived value; it was very expensive as far as I’m concerned.) Not only were there no captions – we don’t all look the same any more – they didn’t include my picture. Someone did call me to apologize, and I mentioned that the list of names and addresses seemed incomplete. It wasn’t a list of attendees, it was a list of purchasers. Could I receive a class list? It was “almost done.” Could I help? Oh, no, it was almost typed and ready for the printer. I never got one.
So, when the first tentative announcement came out, asking for suggestions, I offered to create a database, one that could be used to generate mailing labels or lists – sorted as appropriate – or even generate a list of those who had passed on. (There had been one copy of the list of deceased – passed from table to table.) This is something I can do very well, and I would have searched for the missing names as well. I also mentioned my difficulty in driving at night. No reply.
Several months after I wrote (while we were in Florida), a message was left on my answering machine; the caller/chief planner had misplaced my letter. No mention of my offer, just an invitation to drive down to Stamford some evening for a planning meeting. I don’t know which I dislike more, having my letter ignored entirely or receiving a reply from someone who didn’t read it. I never called back.
When the invitations came, they were hand-addressed. Y’know, there were more than five hundred people in that class; I’m glad they had plenty of people who write out the envelopes. Time: 6 p.m. to midnight.
The reunion was announced on classmates.com, and I responded to their R.S.V.P. list with a “maybe,” explaining my doubts. I saw responses from perhaps a dozen people. Aren’t my former classmates computer-literate? Eventually, I changed my maybe to no; it isn’t worth it for me.
My best friend from high school was planning to go, until she heard that I was not. “The only person I’d really want to see is you,” she explained. “We’ll get together another time.” She has grandchildren to visit all over the country; why should she waste her travel time and money to have dinner with a bunch of people she doesn’t care to see?
Maybe for fifty years we’ll all try again. The list will be shorter…
