Just Flesh*

October of this year will be my ten-year high school reunion. First of all, I want to say, yes, holy shit, I can't believe it's been ten years since I graduated from high school. Second, I want to say that I honestly believe that the only people I actually want to see will not go to the reunion. Hell, I may not go. The woman who was supposed to organize it, our Class President, isn't even involved. She's just too busy. She was also too busy for the five-year reunion she promised. Plus, this class reunion is being held nowhere near our hometown of Marysville, MI (near Port Huron). It's at some restaurant in Clinton Township, fifty miles from our high school. On one hand, I'm happy that it's somewhere around the Detroit area, because I hate Marysville, but on the other, I have to wonder what the fuck they're thinking. My friend Lori (who's very excited about this event) pointed out to me recently that our graduating class had 200 people in it. I know I don't know even half of those people. With my luck, they will be the ones who show up. Them and the popular kids and the jocks and the cheerleaders. I guess I just have to hope that the people I went to high school with have evolved like I have and maybe they aren't a bunch of superficial idiots anymore. Maybe they've learned to see the forest for the trees and the book for what's between the covers. Right. I just keep seein scenes from the film "Grosse Pointe Blank" in my head. I think I'm probably the Jeremy Piven character, except I got out, I didn't stay. "Ten years! Ten! Ten ye-ars!


*listen to Turbonegro