Stop me if you’ve heard this one. A lawyer, a business man, and an advertising executive step into a room. Before long they are walking along in step, arms across one another’s shoulders, singing the theme from the Monkees television show, and doing the Monkees walk. Haven’t heard that one? That’s okay, neither had most of the people I graduated with. However, that didn’t stop three former classmates from reenacting this move in a room away from the remainder of their contemporaries at our 30 year class reunion.
While most of the former students of Hattiesburg High School’s graduating class of 1982 danced along with the beat of the music the DJ was dishing out in the main hall, these three were marching to the beat of a different drum. And should we expect anything less? While the athletes, cheerleaders, and partiers of yesteryear all gathered in their groups, the three amigos also picked up where they left off.
The high school reunion of the class of 1982 was a resounding success. As one former classmate of mine said, the only thing wrong with the entire evening was that there wasn’t enough time to get to visit with everyone. As a matter of fact, I often just stood there and watched my peers interact with one another. There were more smiles that night than I can ever remember seeing when we walked the breezeways of Blair Center together three decades earlier.
I did determine two things that weekend. First was the fact that I was further removed from the “cool” crowd than I realized. As talk turned to the party at so-and-so’s house, or the ICH dances of the late 1970’s, I realized (or perhaps remembered) that I was not part of the cool crowd. Instead, I stood in their shadows waiting for them to throw me a bone now and again. The point was driven home when one of the “cool kids” shook my hand when he first got there. I was surrounded by other classmates so I waited to say hello. When it came my turn I decided to reintroduce myself since we all (except for the women of course) had changed somewhat over the ages. He shook my hand and, looking me in the eye, said, “Nice to meet you Kevin.” Nice to meet you Kevin? Like we didn’t have classes together growing up?
The second thing I determined, and the one thing I wish I had realized more 30 years ago, was that I was okay with not being cool. I am secure in who I am and can sit back and enjoy watching people I once idolized, have fun with their own memories. And I am pleased that today I am better friends with some of these athletes, cheerleaders, and partiers than I was in the 80’s. I’m content being me and realizing that I am liked for who I am not who I want to be. I just wish I had realized it sooner.
So, the other two amigos and I are just fine walking in step to our own beat. “Here we come. Walking down the street. Get the funniest looks from… our wives!”
