Thursday, May 28, 2009
There's an email in my inbox that my dad forwarded to me. It seems that it's been about ten years now and my graduating high school class is looking for me so they can invite me to a reunion. My dad forwarded me this email because they used facebook to try to find people and I guess my dad has a facebook. Because he has the same name as me and I'm smart enough to make sure people can't find me by my actual name on the internets, he received that message.
My initial reaction is fuck, I'm old and is there any way I can get those people to believe I'm dead? Back when I was 17, I fully intended to not attend this thing and instead send a cd with just this song on it. I think the years have had their way with me and made me a pussy or possibly more intelligent and I don't see that being a great idea, probably because it wouldn't have anywhere near the intended affect that I hoped it would some ten years ago. I figure a majority of those people have probably thought about me as much as I've thought about them, which is to say pretty much never.
And now I wonder, do I attend this thing? I mean, for the most part, I've kept up with the people I've wanted to keep up with, though not as much as I'd like. I probably haven't spoken to Matt, who I hung around with every day, or my then best-friend-in-the-world Dan since the day we graduated, which kind of sucks. I hear that Matt no longer lives and dies for golf, which is probably a very good thing, and Dan, well, I have no idea about Dan. Last I heard, some six/seven years ago was that he was in some indie/emo band. He may or may not be living in the Milwaukee area. Again, do I attend? Do I want to see people who have no business procreating touting around their crotchfruit? Not really. Is the promise of free beer enough to get me to go out to the golf course to drink with people that there's no way in hell I'd ever deliberately rub elbows with any other time? Probably not, the free beer's probably going to be some swill like Budweiser or worse Bud Light. And, like the song says, why would I want to hear people boast about the things they haven't done? And, shit, in ten years, what the fuck have I done? I went college, dropped out because computer programming is an excercise in masochism, went back to school, dropped out because tech school is a fucking joke, worked at a potato factory for two years, went back to tech school, graduated, moved to Seattle, moved back because I got screwed by a Mormon, lived at my dad's for a year, went back to school again, and finally got a job where I get no vacation/benefits/respect. And, oh yeah, I rocked quite a bit in there, too, whenever I had the chance.
said Tommy T. at 6:01 PM - #
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My initial reaction is fuck, I'm old and is there any way I can get those people to believe I'm dead? Back when I was 17, I fully intended to not attend this thing and instead send a cd with just this song on it. I think the years have had their way with me and made me a pussy or possibly more intelligent and I don't see that being a great idea, probably because it wouldn't have anywhere near the intended affect that I hoped it would some ten years ago. I figure a majority of those people have probably thought about me as much as I've thought about them, which is to say pretty much never.
And now I wonder, do I attend this thing? I mean, for the most part, I've kept up with the people I've wanted to keep up with, though not as much as I'd like. I probably haven't spoken to Matt, who I hung around with every day, or my then best-friend-in-the-world Dan since the day we graduated, which kind of sucks. I hear that Matt no longer lives and dies for golf, which is probably a very good thing, and Dan, well, I have no idea about Dan. Last I heard, some six/seven years ago was that he was in some indie/emo band. He may or may not be living in the Milwaukee area. Again, do I attend? Do I want to see people who have no business procreating touting around their crotchfruit? Not really. Is the promise of free beer enough to get me to go out to the golf course to drink with people that there's no way in hell I'd ever deliberately rub elbows with any other time? Probably not, the free beer's probably going to be some swill like Budweiser or worse Bud Light. And, like the song says, why would I want to hear people boast about the things they haven't done? And, shit, in ten years, what the fuck have I done? I went college, dropped out because computer programming is an excercise in masochism, went back to school, dropped out because tech school is a fucking joke, worked at a potato factory for two years, went back to tech school, graduated, moved to Seattle, moved back because I got screwed by a Mormon, lived at my dad's for a year, went back to school again, and finally got a job where I get no vacation/benefits/respect. And, oh yeah, I rocked quite a bit in there, too, whenever I had the chance.
said Tommy T. at 6:01 PM - #
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