I Was Dreaming In A World All My Own

[I admit I felt a little jolt of false self-esteem when I pulled up to my twenty-year high school reunion in my boss's BMW SUV and three guys saw me get out and lock it "chirp chirp." Gimme a pass on that one, OK?]

[Sonoma Valley High School's Class of 1987 were, by and large, not a bad bunch to be a part of. We didn't really have a "popular clique" in the shallow, Heather's/Mean Girls sense of the phrase. Our homecoming queen, for example, was this petite, unglamorous girl with a truly outgoing niceness who was in all the AP classes and who gave me a big hug as I walked in to the "Little Swiss."* Basically, there were two social groups: academic (with artistic and scientific subgroups), and vocational (agricultural and mechanical), and there was quite a bit of social flow between the two, abetted mostly by both the jocks and (oddly) the loadie/goth/skater folks who hung out in the smoking section behind the theatre.]

[All of these were well-represented last Saturday night, and I had good conversations (and danced my butt off) with some of each. I know there were some alienated kids in my class, but I always had the feeling we were less beset by that phenomenon than other classes and other schools. But then, my senior year of high school was probably the best year of my life so far.]

[I felt a little uncomfortable at first, mostly because I found myself delivering the same five minute spiel about what I've been up to again and again. I started to sound really false to myself; blessedly, after many of these tinny starts, I was able to get into some really great talks with people who in a few cases I'd never even spoken with in high school. This element of surprise (and the rediscovery of the essential endorphins released in the aforementioned dancing**) were what I'll take away from this reunion.]

[What else:]

[1. Talked long and well with my Scouts/band/junior-high friend Eric, who lives with his cool wife in Rohnert Park and with whom I plan to hang again in the near future;]

[2. Almost shed a tear during the inevitable PowerPoint montage of the seven classmates who have died, including, especially, Lars.]

[3. Had to look at about half the people's name tags because I didn't recognize them, and about half the people had to look at mine.]

[4. Realized I need to get over feeling bad about the mire my life seems to have fallen into in the last few years. I spent too much time trying to make myself sound successful to myself while not lying about either my achievements or where I am now.]

[5. Being out is so no big deal, at least in northern Califonia in 2007.]

[6. Did I mention dancing is fun?]

[7. I'm glad I went. After my ten-year, I pretty much swore I wouldn't go to my twenty-year. I make no such declaration this time.]

[*No, I have no idea why Sonoma Valley has two boites with "Swiss/Switzerland" in their names. It's not as though it has ever been the center for an unheralded diaspora from Zurich or Geneva or something. All I know is, if I lived in Sonoma and were still of bar-going age, I'd probably hang out at both of these venerable venues quite a bit.]

[**At some point, I marveled to Kelly (a woman who grew up one block away from me and who, while class of '86, was this event's official photographer), "My God, dancing feels good. Did you know that they have places, especially in the city, where you can do this all the time?!" She looked at me like I was nuts, but I just know I need to get my ass to a gay dance club sooner rather than later.]

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