Friday, April 21, 2006

Virtual Visits

A few days ago, there was a discussion on Backspace about remembering your high school years. Apparently, I'm in the minority of folks who actually has more or less positive things to say about my teen years.

Oh, I had some issues. Like the guy with the locker near mine who would practically have sex with his girlfriend right there, grinding hips, and lip-locking until the bell rings. I was also regularly picked on, verbally, because I was a bit of a geek. But all around, high school was fun. I enjoyed learning, and I enjoyed all the activities I was involved in.

Anyhow, this discussion made me feel a bit nostalgic. Whatever happened to some of my favorite teachers? Are they still teaching? And what about the friends I had back then, but haven't seen since. (Except, perhaps, at our 10-year reunion, which I dutifully attended.)

It's funny how these people who are so important to you then can just disappear from your life. Really, there isn't anyone from my high school days who is a regular part of my life today. There are a few friends I wish it wasn't like that. But time, distance, or obligations make rekindling long-lost friendships impratical at times.

So, I found the website of my old high school (which, of course, is something that wasn't even conceived of back then) and poked around. So much has changed. Many of the names on the staff directory are foreign to me. Even the principal is gone. (I sort of dated the principal's daughter in high school. Okay, okay. Not really. But we were in three separate high school plays together, and in each of them, she played either my wife or my girlfriend. Does that count?)

I e-mailed my homeroom teacher. He was also my Calculus teacher in the eleventh grade, and I worked as a student aid under him in the twelfth grade. I also e-mailed a good friend of mine from bygone days. Ah, yes...memories of my time spent with him are grand. Like our trip to Florida in the ninth grade, where we made complete fools of ourselves in the back of his parent's truck the whole way down. Or the time we choreographed some dance numbers for a Musicale group we were in.

Memory lane is a long road these days, and growing longer every year. But it is fun to take a trip now and again. Even if, for now, it is only a virtual visit.

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