Yesterday Mrs. Jeff and I were driving to get ice cream and for some reason she reminded me that my 10-year high school reunion is this year. This morning, Erin is thinking about the same thing.
I think about this every once in a while. This month I'm heading back to my college alma mater for graduation festivities and later a seminary reunion, both of which create an infinitely greater amount of excitement within me than pretty much any sort of invitation back to my high school could possibly create.
Let me clarify: I've recently been invited back to judge one-act plays and to speak to their FCA group. I once even strapped on a marching band drum again. The stuff that I was involved with that I enjoyed, I'll come back for. And I'm fortunate enough to have good friends from high school still in the area. But just a general gathering of classmates to relive and rehash all the artificiality, all the cruelty, all the BS that high school kids put each other through even though in theory we're now ten years older, wiser and more mature? I'll pass, thanks.
Some go just out of principle. They want to see if the head cheerleader or popular quarterback have bottomed out or they want to show others how successful they are or they want to go because they think they'll feel some deep regret if they don't. Nah. I got my own thing going, and I don't have anything to prove.
I'll go if given the right incentive. Like a free Jaguar for everyone who attends. Or the mere fact of our all being together again will magically produce a cure for cancer. Anything less, and I'll invite my actual high school friends over, have some dinner and wine, and actually enjoy myself.
In the meantime, Heidelberg and Eden await. And thinking about that makes me much happier.