"...it's a wonder I can think at all."
--Paul Simon, "Kodachrome"
Last week as I was going on the air, I received a phone call on the request line from Heather Langlois, one of my high school classmates. She was calling to inform me of a class reunion happening six days later and wanted to invite me. This was a bolt out of the blue. (As the former fearless leader of this merry band of Reagan-era adolescents, I'm supposed to be in charge of such events, but I have been usurped by a bunch of women who like facilitating these things. I am not complaining, trust me.)
My first thought was, "hard to find? I'm on the damn radio on the highest-rated yuppie station in town!" My next thought was, "get over yourself, Gauthier. You're not
that big of a deal." Then I called my dear friend Lori Tucker and confessed to her that I was lukewarm to the whole idea. More precisely, as much as I hate to say it, but the first thought in my head when I got the call was "I do not want to go to that thing."
As I told Lori, if absence makes the heart grow fonder then I think I need to be absent from most of these folks a little longer. I don't want to be one of these "I don't go to those as I prefer to sip cappucino and wear a black turtleneck." At the same time, I didn't want to be one of these sad people who look at high school as the best years of their lives and would go back if given the chance. If the future is more promising than the past, why should I go backwards?
My showing up would not have mattered much one way or the other. This event was intentionally informal - the patio at
Walk-Ons Bistreaux and Bar was reserved for our pleasure, but not catered in the least, so if I opted out, it's not like me pulling a Marlon Brando and refusing an Oscar. Even though I'd informed the higher ups at Guaranty that I wanted to go (It coincided with my Saturday night shift), as late as Friday I hadn't completely decided either way.
If I may admit some vulnerability, I am one of the few in my class who have never married and these events quickly turn into a spousal meet and greet (I come from a state where unmarried women older than 21 are "old maids" and unmarried men over 30 are "funny".) It's also a parade of who's aged and how much, or how little with botox being what it is today.
Ultimately, I said "what the hell" and decided to go because:
1.) I had nothing better to do except watch the LSU/Texas A&M game, and I could do that at the event.
2.) I missed the first reunion, so it's not like my track record is 100%.
3.) My hair is largely intact, full and robust. That's usually worth showing off in a situation like this. It may not be the blonde it was back in the day, but it's still going strong. (Think Dean Martin and/or Ronald Reagan.)
4.) I don't really give a fuck what anybody thinks of me being a single man in my early 30's, and I resent the implication (not that there's anything wrong with that).
5.) Divorce watch. Nice to see who's "available".
6.) Networking, baby. I gotta get rid of my ass-load of business cards.
7.) The spouses of my classmates would be suffering worse than I was. If they could endure it so could I.
8.) Ack-ee-hall. Gotta get me some ack-ee-hall!
9.) Who knows - maybe some kind of R.Kelly hotel lobby/after party/hot tub dip could break out with me and some cuties who frequent the bar (yeah, right. Meanwhile, back in reality...)
10.) Some folks I really wanted to see. Actually, one person in particular. and that's Lori. She's the only one from the old school that I talk to on a regular basis, and even that's only a few times every so often. She's a pal, a confidant, and one of the few people who can put me in my place (I would say, the one person I allow to put me in my place, but that's a big lie.) Actually, I like it when she tells me to "shut up" because I know I'm being funny :)
In the end, I had a few drinks and a lot of laughs. I was glad to see Kirk (who's now married to Michelle - who'd-a thunk?); Max, now a famous powerboat racer; Hank, who used to play arena football; and Casey, whom I sponsored for confirmation all those years ago - none of whom were at the last gathering. It's always good to see Jessica, Darla, Jennifer, Leather..er, Heather, Ray and Nicole, Suzanne, Michelle U., Charlotte, Deb, Mark, Jeff and Wendy, T., Bill, Jesse...okay, this is sounding like
Romper Room, so I'll shut up now.
I did find out that Cristi Kinchen actually reads this blog, which must confirm what most people already think: Darren is a raving lunatic who seriously needs companionship. My only response:
tell me about it!
The only disappointing aspect of the event were the no shows: where was Brian, my dentist, who lives in town (and who I need to see very soon)? Where was Kris, Wheat, Orlando, Javier, Doo-Doo. Manson, Kendall (who has completely vanished)? Hey guys:
What the hell?
Because of my work in politics, I'm slowly coming to grips that Baton Rouge is more than a who-you-know town, it's a "who's-your-mom-and-dad-and-where-did-you-go-to-high-school" town. As much as I have tried to get away from this place - and frequently threaten to do so again, almost on an hourly basis - I cannot forget these people and the impact they've had on me. That may be quaint and small town, but so be it.
