Looking Forward

Both of my parents died in the very town where I grew up. My mother was just 62; my father 70. Their individual deaths were sad and painful for all concerned, and I certainly won't bum you out with the depressing details. The important thing is this: I have not returned to that town since 1986, and I have no intention of ever doing so. Which is why I was saddened and surprised to learn that my 50th High School reunion will be held right there, at the very same school in the very same town.

Surprised because this town is not Beverly Hills or Las Vegas or Miami Beach. It's not San Francisco or Los Angeles or Philadelphia, or even Chicago or St. Louis or Minneapolis. It's nowhere you ever heard of. What it does have going for it is the fact that it's just 25 miles from Manhattan, city of my birth and arguably the World's Greatest City. I go there often, and would certainly jump at the chance to attend my high-school reunion were it held there. But going back to that small town to have pizza and go bowling with a group of strangers who are all now 67 years old is not appealing, it's saddening, especially since there likely would be several people it would be fun to chat with, albeit superficially, for a few minutes.

And that's why I'm not going to my high-school reunion. But since we each need something special to look forward to in order to keep a spring in our step, I am going to Barcelona and Marseilles in December, and that's a pretty nice carrot to have dangling.