Over the weekend, I was looking through this site of mine. Why? A new look may be on the horizon, but that’s beside the point. While in my “Links” section, I clicked on the O’Gorman High link, recalling that there was a reunion of sorts planned for this month. Upon visiting the actual reunion site, I learned that it had already happened during the first weekend of the month. Did I want to go? No, but nostalgia is a funny thing.
A few weeks ago while at my parents’ place, my mom had the bright idea to break out the photo albums for Dena have a go at. Yay. Baby pictures, hockey pictures, newspaper clippings and so on were viewed and usually included some commentary from my mom. More yay. Eventually, we get to the highschool-era pictures. It starts with god-awful glasses and teenage awkwardness and moves to long hair. Does anyone want to really know why I have a picture with Pat, Mern and Daddoo on graduation day but not with my own parents? Super fantastic happy yay. I ended up looking at these pictures along with Dena and my mom (my dad was occupied with a CFL game on TV). Then it hit me. I look the same, act the same and think the same as I did in high school. I graduated from high school eight years ago. At a reunion, what’s the point of seeing the exact same people that you remember? Hi, I’m Chris Bellini. ‘member me? Yup, I still like computer stuff, still like the same tunes, still buy my clothes at the same stores and I probably still don’t like you. Seems like only yesterday, blah blah blah. Sofa yay. Take a look at the list of attendees. I hardly know anyone and that’s ok. I didn’t like O’Gorman and O’Gorman didn’t like me. Indeed, nostalgia is a funny thing. High school was a time period that I can easily be reminded of, but I usually don’t care to be reminded of it all that often. As Lou Barlow said to me in an email conversation (mildly unrelated to this topic) we had a few months back, “nostalgia could be a double-edged sword”. The man speaks the truth and plays some mean RAWK, too 😉
More nostalgia to come…
