". . . one finds, especially by the time one reaches one's fifties, that there are a limited number of types of people in the world, and you went to high school with every single one of them. You can visit the Eskimos, you can visit the Bushmen in the Kalahari, you can go to Israel, you can go to Egypt, but everybody you meet is going to be somebody you went to high school with."
Humorist P.J. O'Rourke
I don't know if this is especially true - perhaps it's just because I'm not observant enough - but I do know that I look back to high school every now and then. It's funny, isn't it, that we spend some 17-18 years growing up, moving through grade school, middle school and high school, and then find ourselves looking back from twice that distance (35 years for me), thinking about those years.
Shouldn't my high school years be overshadowed by things that came after? Four years in my life versus all that came with a 28-year marriage, four kids, a career, nice home, et al. But here I sit on the couch, reading the PJ O'Rourke quotation and I find myself walking the halls at Prospect High School, completing a verb quiz in German class, intercepting a pass during gym, driving my '67 Olds through the neighborhood, finding that I don't fit in everywhere, working at the A&P, drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon at the beach with the gang . . . It couldn't have been as much fun as I remember it was, could it?
And the really funny thing is that I know my dad generally feels the same way - especially when we talk about growing up in Plainville, Kansas - and he graduated 71 years ago!
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