On the subject of reunions

The blog of Happy Frog and I, Tales From The Lilypad has a nicely written and evocative piece about reunions. I'm not sure I can improve upon that, but that isn't the point, I merely have some additional thoughts I wish to share.

I should begin this by stating for the record that I have been to a school reunion or two. Not the organised 'American' style affair (as a fan of the film Grosse Point Blank, I value my self esteem far too much for that). There has been one such reunion to my knowledge, with tickets and the like, and it may have even taken place at the school itself, if my memory serves me correctly. No, the kind I attended was the kind held in a pub, much like the occasion of which Happy Frog and I speak about (and if you haven't read that, click here and you will be enlightened).

As if you needed telling, reunions are not always good things. Those that have done well for themselves tend to be full of it and some people at my secondary school were, and sad to say, still are terribly materialistic, as if what matters most is how much money you earn, what car you drive, where you live, the clothes you wear. Oh don't get me wrong, I was probably much like that when younger, but life's lessons have taught me that true worth lies elsewhere.

And this is not about to become a bitter tirade about all that is wrong with the world (if I started out on that one, I might never stop) but, having been made redundant and not having an obscenely paid job in the city with guaranteed bonuses several times my salary, I now freelance and while I don't do badly, if I don't work, I don't get paid. No expenses, no bonuses and no freebies over here. Is it wrong not to want to have to listen to someone that you don't really know anymore go on about how brilliant their life is? Oh don't get me wrong, my life has more ups than downs, but I don't brag about it. Of course I'd like more money, who wouldn't?, but that is not solely what drives me. I don't need to hear the woes of someone who has had to upgrade to 1st class so as to avoid a hefty excess baggage fee and then bemoans the fact that they have probably exceeded their 128 kg baggage allowance. Excuse me if my heart doesn't bleed for you, as your smile beams out at me from your Facebook profile, barely visible above all the bags and parcels from London and New York's finest stores and most exclusive boutiques all held in a perfectly manicured hand, topped off by a relatively subtle (if such a description can indeed apply to what follows) Rolex watch.   Oh don't get me wrong, I am not jealous of the lady's timepiece, I have a very nice chunk of Swiss craftsmanship weighing down my left hand, but it does not look all that, I believe the term the youth of today favour is 'bling', and unless you are either into watches or James Bond, then it won't be anything of note.

How has this gone from the perils and pitfalls of reunions to my views on watches? The point I was trying to make was that while I like nice things and some of them come with a hefty price tag, I have them because I like them, not for some perceived status or what others may think of them or me for having them. If having an expensive watch or a certain kind of phone is what matters to you and that you feel it says something about you, it probably does, but what that something is is decided by others. You may be of the opinion that it portrays you as confident and successful, whereas another pair of eyes may see the same accoutrements as signs of arrogance and superficiality. 

Just as I have my own tastes and likes and dislikes that are often at odds with what is deemed 'fashionable', I also have my own standards for success and failure, right and wrong etc. I therefore don't really want to give up an evening to be judged by people who I once knew more than half a lifetime away. If people haven't remained in touch then all they have is memories, and I certainly know I am not the person I was almost 20 years ago. I have had friends tell me that they are dreading a reunion because so and so will be there and they didn't get on at school. For all either of them know they might get on like a house on fire now. I have found from experience, that I have little or nothing to do with many I was closest to while at school and that is not through deliberate choice, more just a drifting apart as the years pass. Yet I have been for a drink only a couple of weeks ago with an old classmate that I barely spoke to whilst within those hallowed halls. I'm not saying we are now the best of friends or anything of the sort. We are still very different people. He was in the army, went to war and has in all probability killed for Queen and country. He now drives a tube train and runs marathons and climbs mountains in his spare time. I am the polar opposite and partake in more cerebral pastimes, yet we enjoy one another's company and find the same things funny and can sit like two grumpy old men putting the world to rights over a pint or several. I have recently got back in touch with another old school friend who it transpires lives not far from me, has a young son, is divorced and twice in the past decade has beaten cancer.

I'm not saying everyone is hedonistic and shallow, but that that is how it can seem either at reunion gatherings or on social networking sites. It is understandable that people should wish to project the best possible image of themselves. Just as when attending these events one dresses for the occasion rather than wearing what falls to hand. You want people to see you at your best. It calls to mind the words of a friend of my grandmother "I'd rather be envied than pitied"   

We all have different standards, so who are we to judge others. I may not agree with the rules by which you live your life, but so long as it does not start to affect me then it is no concern of mine. Of course, human nature being what it is, comparisons will be made, one's own life, achievements, experiences and values being the yardstick.

Back to the reunion... Much as I'd like to be Martin Blank, all mystery and looking cool in black, the truth is I and no doubt many others would be cast as Paul Spericki (Jeremy Piven) "I was just trying to get a little validation for my life. I guess I came up a bit SHORT!".  However I look to another cinematic outsider as something of a role model.  That of Pump Up The Volume's Happy Harry Hard-on, pirate shock jock. In reality I am Mark Hunter, who despite being a geeky loner by day, is played by Christian Slater who is not what one might call a geek (at least not to his face). I am under no illusions that I am closer to his on screen persona than Slater himself, it is 'Harry's' anonymous honesty that this blog allows me to adopt. Don't fear dear reader, I am not about to unleash a stream of profanity and vulgarity (well maybe now and again), nor am I in any hurry to fall foul of the authorities for illegally broadcasting. I might rile a few people (oh I should be so lucky that anyone might even be reading this), but then any and everyone is free to exercise the only form of censorship that I endorse, that of self censorship i.e. If you don't like it, change the channel, turn the page, click the mouse or jog on.

I know I strayed from the path of reunions yet again, but hey, this is my blog and therefore my rules.


Down to business. I got my wild cherry diet Pepsi and I got my Black Jack gum here and I got that feeling, mmm yeah that familiar feeling that something rank is going down out there.