Be true to your school

We (that would be Faye and I) are preparing for yet another trip out west. This time the excuse is Faye's 40th high school reunion. Faye was born and raised in San Diego, a lovely place I managed to lure her away from to eventually swelter here in Florida. The trip out will take us through Biloxi, Laughlin, NV, and Las Vegas. There's a pattern there, don't you think? Whenever we head out to San Diego, there's a side trip to Las Vegas. If we drive (which we do because I refuse to fly anymore) then it means a stopover in Biloxi also.

I don't get high school reunions. That may be because I have never had one. You see, I graduated from a private high school as a part of a class of 12. I like to joke that we have had no reunions because not enough of us have been out of prison at the same, or right, time. That's only partially true. The real reason is that we'd rather forget that school. It was not the highlight of my life. I spent so little time in class that it is basically a blur and I do not trust my memories of those days. I spent most days at the beach that last year. And hung over. So did half the senior class.

After graduation, we all went our separate ways. I am sure a couple of the class actually turned out well, maybe even successful. My bet is that they have blocked out any memories of me or my closer friends. In any event, I have no idea where any of the people in that class are now. Most of them are undoubtedly happy about that.

So I will be attending Faye's reunion as her adjunct. She is looking forward to this event, I am looking forward to... well, I have no idea what I am looking forward to. Probably getting through this trip alive.