The dread high school reunion

It took some doing, but I convinced Mike to participate in his former high school's all-class reunion last weekend. It was purely selfish, since I really wanted to see where the younger Mike spent his waking hours. But, like me, Mike didn't enjoy high school too much and had retained a handful of friends and gladly left all the rest behind. Well, I have to say, it was well worth it.
Turns out, Mike went to a beautiful classical-style high school, one with dark glossy hardwood floors and a colonade in the front--something stright out of a movie. Because it was built in 1925, it has been placed on the national register of historic places. It stopped operating as a high school in 1972, and then served as an elementary school, an alternative school, and now is a high school again, a magnet for the classics. It was integrated (!!) only three years before it closed in 1972, and so there were almost no African Americans at the reunion. I have more to write on that subject (as always) but it's for another blog. Still, it was pretty strange.
High school reunions are interesting events, and I wonder how much sociological research is done on the subject. At any rate, I finally got to meet the key characters in Mike's high school memories, outstandingly nice and genuine people. Then, the prime benefit of reunions, there were the people whom Mike had forgotten or, better yet, those who ran in higher social strata than Mike was in, but who, with the benefit of age, had descended back to the ranks of mere plebes and were now eager to feel included. We speak of jocks and cheerleaders, folks who back then seemed not to even know your name and now sought you out with excessive zeal.
It's easy for me to write about the topic and enjoy it from the sidelines, since those of us of European education don't have these rites to undergo. Though we're spared the repetitive milling and life summaries, we also don't get to enjoy the little triumphs or a not-so-misspent youth.