Reunion stirs up new horrors

By Joel Myhre (Contact) | The Daily Journal

Published Saturday, August 9, 2008

So last weekend, during my 20th high school class reunion, I had what I would say was an information overload.

So much so that, for the last week, I have found it difficult to sleep.

On the surface, the weekend seemed nice enough. My wife and I took the pleasant 90 minute drive to Little Falls, a place where my parents moved away from in 1991. We played golf with my old golf team members, and then had a nice evening visiting with about 100 classmates, most of whom I haven’t seen in 20 years. On Sunday morning, we drove through my old neighborhood, looked at my old house, checked out the nearby park and zoo, and headed home.

But there have been things that have continued to rattle around in my head (at 2 or 3 a.m.) And I just can’t seem to straighten them out.

Why did only 100 of the 285 in my class bother to show up? The vast majority of my friends from high school simply weren’t there, and I never heard from them.

Was it just not a priority for them? Were they embarrassed to show up because they recently had a life event (divorce, loss of job) they weren’t proud of? Did they think it was “passé”? Do they still hold grudges from high school? Was it simply too painful a part of their life to deal with? I just can’t seem to answer.

I sure miss those guys, and at this point, just wanted to see them, no matter where they’re at in their life.

One of the themes of my class 20 years ago was, “Whatever you do, get the H-E-double-hockey-sticks out of Little Falls.”

Living in Little Falls was considered a sign of failure. I think that has loosened up over the years, since there were many classmates of mine who have returned to Little Falls as lawyers, teachers, business owners and other prominent community members. That’s a good thing. After living in Fergus Falls for 15 years, this idea that you have to be in the big city to be a success really irritates me.

As expected, many of the “popular” classmates att-ended, as did all of the girls that I liked but who didn’t like me. While I had no problem talking to everyone else, when it came to those two classes of people, I felt like I reverted back to what I was in high school: a short, shy, overly sensitive geek. Despite everything I have done in my life, the idea of talking to those people just seemed too difficult.

On the other hand, I talked to a lot of other “geeks” like me, particularly females, who had blossomed after they left high school, going on to have prominent careers and families, and unlike the girls who didn’t like me, seemed genuinely interested in talking to me.

I came away thinking “you were an idiot in high school.”

I was disturbed by my old house, which looked like it was ready to be condemned. In my dreams, it actually had been remodeled and expanded. Clearly, that didn’t happen. While it wasn’t very big, my family took great pains to maintain it, and it looked like they hadn’t done a thing to it over the last 20 years. It’s sort of like giving your pet away, and visiting it years later to find it had become mangy and mean. It almost made me cry.

I’m not sure how I proceed to sort it all out. I suppose another 10 years would do it.

•••••••••••••

As a follow-up to my column on my daughter’s four cavities, a word to the wise for parents of 3-year-olds: the inconvenience and discipline required to make sure your child’s teeth are brushed, and candy avoided, is far better than what I had to experience this week watching my child get her cavities filled.

I don’t think I have produced as much cold sweat as I did in that 30-minute time period my entire life as my daughter screamed in horror. This is in no way a knock on the dentist who performed the procedure. I’m absolutely positive she felt no pain. It was just a scary deal for her, and thus, for me.

Again, better to brush and to refuse candy than to deal with filling cavities. Trust me.

Joel Myhre is The Journal’s general manager. E-mail him at joel.myhre@fergusfallsjournal.com