BASS

Last weekend, I attended my 35th high school reunion and it felt like old times. Technology keeps us connected, but the hugs, handshakes, and nostalgia of an in-person event leave you feeling like things just picked up where they left off years ago.

The Lumberton High School class of 1989 came together for the last time in 2019 for our 30th reunion, and now we’re talking about meeting every five years. Sadly, fewer of our classmates return with each reunion. At least one more joined the list of lost classmates since the last get together. I’m grateful I’ve lived to experience the opportunity again.

I didn’t make it to my tenth reunion, and when our 20th rolled around, social media was becoming more widespread. Some said it would be the death knell for traditional, in-person class reunions. That turned out not to be the case. Social media is good for communication and staying in touch, but it will never replace human connection. Reunions are among the last viable analog events in our expanding digital world.

Only about a third of Americans attend their high school reunions, I recently learned, and most of them were the popular kids who participated in extracurricular activities. Reunions can spark anxiety and leave some on the fence deciding whether to go. For our reunion, most of us logged into Facebook to RSVP for the in-person event, so we could look and see who else was going before making the final commitment.

Two former classmates reached out to me saying they were undecided. One of them didn’t actually graduate with the class, but that doesn’t matter – they still went to school with these folks for a long time. Both of my classmates decided to go, and I’m sure they were happy with their decisions.

One of the reasons why some are intimidated about attending reunions is the prospect of not living up to their former high school selves. I have a classmate who became a military pilot and later a commercial pilot. Some became doctors and successful businesspeople. When we came together, I don’t think any of us cared – we were just happy to see the people we remember from our school days.

I can’t claim to have been popular or extraverted, although my classmates wrote in the school newspaper that I was the most likely to open the hottest new nightclub in New York City. I didn’t live up to those expectations, and I don’t think anyone held it against me. I was still fun.

Life doesn’t care who we are or what we do, and there is something humbling about that. By the time you’re celebrating your 35th class reunion, you’re just happy to be alive. We’re all

survivors, one way or another – of accidents, divorces, and other misfortunes. We are all richer in experience and aware that we’re living on borrowed time. That is the great equalizer.

I keep up with my classmates online, and some of them still live nearby. I keep in touch with my teachers too; some of them left such unforgettable impressions on me. In fact, when my 17-year-old daughter told me recently that Sting and The Police are her new favorites, I couldn’t resist telling her about my 8th grade English teacher, who introduced our class to The Police’s “Synchronicity” album and taught us how to break dissect song lyrics. A few years back, I found a copy of Sting’s book of lyrics and mailed it to her as a surprise.

I think my generation had the best music. The fact that my own kids appreciate it, for me, gives it validation.

To be honest, I think Bruce Springsteen, in my opinion, summed up the post high school experience best in his mid-80s hit “Glory Days.”

“I had a friend was a big baseball player

Back in high school.

He could throw that speedball by you

Make you look like a fool, boy.

Saw him the other night at this roadside bar

I was walking in, he was walking out

We went back inside, sat down, had a few drinks

But all he kept talking about…was glory days, don’t let ‘em pass you by.”

My high school experience was a good one, I still have great friends, my teachers cared, and they still do. Days go by and the sun still rises and sets. And if I’m blessed with another five years, I’ll be back for the 40th.

James Bass is the director of the Givens Performing Arts Center. Reach him at james.bass@uncp.edu.