Maybe I’m Semi-Amazed

Thanks to the miracle that is Facebook—what’s the emoticon for sarcasm again?—it’s been brought to my attention that my 40th high school reunion is coming up next summer (do I feel that old? Oh, hell, yes!), and naturally someone started a central page for all us geezers to gather together in our wheelchairs so we can click our dentures in unison. It’s been an odd sensation, to say the least. I’ve been lucky enough to stay in touch with about a dozen of the people I knew back then—we’re talking the class of ’72 from Bellaire High School in Houston—but now the floodgates have opened for real. Some of the folks I’ve been dealing with the past few days have names and faces that are permanently imprinted on my brain-pan; others of them, umm, not so much. It doesn’t matter; it doesn’t matter. Right now, for instance, we’re discussing (or maybe we’re debating, I’m not sure) the relative merits of Cormac McCarthy’s various novels, which is a pastime I never expected to engage in with these particular people, not at any point in my lifetime. And today one of them posted this photo featuring several of my cohorts from the drama department, our time in which—for a great many of us, I think—constituted our real high school experience. (If you think I can ramble on about my family and shit, just get me started on this stuff.) If I walk into work tomorrow morning and find King Tut shaving his callouses in my cubicle, I’ll be less surprised than I am right now.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I see someone just answered my post about Blood Meridian

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