In memory far away

As dawn was breaking on the Messoplex, it was dawning on me that I had graduated Charles Page High School (Go Sandites!) 20 years ago this May. Holy Shit! Pretty obvious considering that I was in the CPHS Class of 1985, but in all honesty, I hadn't really thought about it. I guess I was in denial, having suppressed the reality that I had been out of high school for 20 years until, of all things I was watching Leave it to Beaver on TV Land the night before. How it all came bubbling up from my subconscious is a funny case study into how my crazy ass mind works. Dig this.

It all started with me in my bed. I was by myself on a Sunday night while my Lovely Bride watched Desperate Housewives in the den. Boy(s) were night night. Quiet time. Sunday night, shit on TV, I ended up watching Leave it to Beaver which isn't that unusual. Zoning out on the puerile Beaver circa 1957 my mind hopscotched onto the 1985 midlife version of the Beaver from (so bad it was good) Still The Beaver. At that point I started to play my peculiar age game, which I should add, drives my Lovely Bride nuts. I take a person (in this case Jerry Mathers) and remember them from something that I vividly recall. From there I cipher how old that made them in that year. I then compare that age with my current age. Then, I compare my thoughts of them and that age then, with my thoughts of them and that age now. The only problem with doing this in bed was that I didn't have a calculator handy. Admittedly, I'm a dumbass in regard to math. However, on the flip side of what would best be described an idiot savant coin, I'm a walking encyclopedia of all things trivia (history too.) Thus I innately knew that Jerry Mathers was born in 1948 and that Still The Beaver (the series, there was a 1983 made for TV Movie) started running in syndication in 1985, yet I was having one hell of a time ciphering how old that would have made Jerry Mathers in 1985.

Somewhere in the midst of trying to calculate his age, my mind gave up and did what it does best, made a joke out of the situation by hopping over to Sling Blade. The part where Vaughan is talking to Karl at the Tastee Shake.

Vaughan: You always seem to be deep in thought. Tell me, what are you thinking right now?
Karl: I was thinkin', I'm gonna take me some of these taters home with me.
Vaughan: How about before that?
Karl: Well, let me think... I was thinkin' I could use me another couple cans'o that potted meat if ya got any extree.

The complete absurdness of the problem I was having with such an easy math problem was funny enough, but the fact that my mind was making introspective jokes on the subject made me laugh out loud at myself. I didn't laugh for long though, because I finally got the answer (probably took you two seconds) that Jerry Mathers was 37 years old in 1985. Holy Shit!

I guess at some level, I knew he would be around my age in 1985, but the fact that he was my current age was a shock. You see, Dear Reader, because of my strange self image in regard to age , I don't only play my goofy little comparative age game, I almost always think of myself as being younger than I actually am. Thus, when I realized that I was the same age as Jerry Mathers in 1985, I remembered him from the point of view of the 1985 version of Stu. That version of me thought he looked old. Sad too. The Beav was back in his hometown, two kids, divorced, living at home. Remembering 1985 Stu commiserating Beav's sad state of affairs made 2005 Stu remember 1985 Stu's state of affairs. The big milestone of course was my graduating High School which is what was running through my Monkey Brain as dawn dawned on the Messoplex. So, one more time with feeling. HOLY SHIT! Has it really been 20 years? Would there be a reunion, and If so, would I attend?

I have had, what could best be described as a strained relationship with my home town of Sand Springs for some time. Whatever the reason, those feelings led to me being vehemently opposed to attending my 10 year high school reunion. I wanted no part of it.

Now, with another decade under my belt, fast approaching my 38th lap around el sol on mother earth, I know that I was wrong to not attend my 10 year reunion. I regret my decision. I think it is because, as I've gotten older I catch myself looking back to my school days, growing up in Oklahoma, well, wistfully is the only way to put it. Perhaps it is a midlife thing? Or, being married with children? I'm not sure to be honest. What I am certain of is that I want to attend my 20 year high school reunion. So much so that I've been prowling sites like Classmates to see if anything was scheduled. Turns out there is a reunion planned, and it is soon. June 17 and 18th to be exact. I've made up my mind that I'm going, because, I truly want to see people I haven't seen in twenty years. Hell, in some cases, I haven't even thought about them for twenty years. Still, I suspect (maybe hope) that when we all gather we'll be friends united for a common cause. Shared experiences of a time and place. Because (to borrow a line from a Don Henley song) somewhere back there in the dust, that same small town is in each of us.

Until I BLOG again...Spirit Stick.