Looking Backwards Hurts My Neck

I am not one to look backwards. "Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone," as the popular Fleetwood Mac song insists. So of course I would never travel a long distance to go to a town I actively dislike (both my parents died there years apart, after long, bleak illnesses, wiping out all other memories) to reminisce with strangers I barely connected with back when we were in high school 50 years ago, since the ones I did connect with are already in my life and have been for years.

The high school reunion, the college reunion, the family reunion: they all imply union in the first place. Lacking that, there can be no re-union. If ever I were to attend a reunion, it would be with people I really want to see, like for example:

A family reunion, with my mother and father and favorite uncle and grandparents and a random aunt and cousin thrown in to the mix, and my first in-laws who I loved dearly (never met the second set), all dead now. For that I would travel anywhere, barefoot over hot coals in fact.

A Beatles reunion, including John and George. Heck, throw in Linda Eastman too, I always liked her.

A Woodstock reunion. Now that would be fun, especially if it didn't rain this time. And then too, it would be way less crowded, and not so much litter, and certainly no bad acid.