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26 November, 2005
# my HS reunion: how to shave 10 years of your life!
last night was my 10 year high school reunion. after leaving high school i always described the town i grew up in as kind of accurately displayed in such 80s movies as weird science, or 16 candles. it was a rich town, and had rich people, yet you still had your blue collar workers from times prior to reganomics. while i wasn't taking any clothed showers with kelly lebrock or selling whiffs of molly ringwald's panties, i was....well, you see where i'm going with this. at first the reunion was a little overwhelming - i had no idea i retained so many first and last name combinations. and for the most part people still looked the same, if not better. it dawned on me, however - this wasn't a 'high school' reunion per se, but a childhood reunion. these people were our lives growing up; the people we spent the most time with that weren't family, the people that shaped us the most. while the reunion was very high school oriented with the class colours and pictures from those badass hair days of the mid nineties, i found myself remembering stories about people from elementary and middle school. it got me thinking about how much these people had effected my development as a person, and maybe how i contributed to other's. i talked to leslie, a girl who lived down the street from me, a girl who i knew since she was 4 and i was 5. as an interesting side note, her brother is blowing "scientific glass" - that's beakers and viles and test-tubes and the like. i looked at my own personal bully from high school, terry, and i was reminded that he had people picking on him as well, just as i had done my fair share of picking on people throughout elementary school. of course, i stopped somewhere in middle school...i guess it just takes some people longer to grow out of that sort of thing. i saw my super-hot crush from sophomore year, the proverbial girl that floored me everytime she was around. i never really approached her last night because i really had little to say, and i'm sure that went both ways, as did the appreciation of that most likely. i was reminded of the only phone conversation i ever had with her in high school - she spent the whole time laughing out loud at fresh prince of bel-air, a TV show that was on at the time, while i tried to get a word in edgewise. i'm not bitter though - although it's one of those moments that sticks with you through the years it actually turned into a good story through college and beyond. on lighter notes i got to tell my 7th grade crush about how i wrote her initials in pen on the sole of my sneakers while riding the school bus home. she in turn showed me a picture of her 8 year old son. i got see another guy i was friends with who clearly,...we needed to hang out somewhere other than a high school reunion, and there would have to be a whole mess of drugs and musical instruments involved.

so i guess it all made a lot more sense to me when i was leaving and a girl named betsy stopped becky and i on the way out to chat a bit. she had moved to our town in 8th grade, and had no trouble fitting right in with the popular girls. she was friendly, really pretty, and for the most part outgoing. but last night she told me how it was hard for her to fit in because our town was so clique-y and not very welcoming to those who came in late in the game. this, is absolutely true. so true about my hometown that it actually begs to be the definition of madison, ct. she went on to say how awkward and insecure she felt in high school, and everybody was lame in their own way back then. dude, you don't have to tell me. i'm 29 and i still feel that way when interacting with gas station attendants, bartenders, my girlfriend, and pretty much anyone who doesn't share my last name. so now i'm intrigued to talk to those people i graduated good ol' danny hand with but never really talked to in high school or the reunion and find out what their up to. i was kind of surprised at the number of people who told me they visited my website after seeing it in the e-vite. so hopefully some will make it down to here and drop me a line.
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Sounds like I missed an interesting time. Sure wish I could have been there.

On the other hand though, I got to see my family (do you remember my sister Brigid?) and have the requisite family-get-together-drama.

Hey will you be in Madison for Christmas? I'd be great to have a drink with you... I want the inside details on the reunion.
 
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05 November, 2005
a co-worker of mine passed away from a heart attack a week ago last tuesday, the 25th of October. i had only been to one open casket wake before, and i was about 14 at the time. i didn't really take toll of what it all meant, so i never looked at my father's friend's body, lying there in the coffin. i did look, but only long enough to notice that he was buried with his favourite fedora. this wake was much different. when i first arrived with kevin we stood in line, waiting to pay respects. i think i was doing it right, i've never done this stuff before, thankfully. i looked over at KC, lying in a coffin, not smiling (he never stopped smiling), and his skin looked greyish, and dry. clearly this was not KC. i started to feel faint, and was afraid that i was about to lose my shit right there. fortunately (and maybe by design) there was a wall mirror right next to me. i looked at myself, and all i thought was, 'you're still here, you're sitll real.' it was at this point that i noticed that i was in a sort of panic, and i had lost control of my thoughts. i was in auto-pilot, mental instincts would get me through this. i approached the casket, my brain doing flips, not being able to look at his face, not being able to look away. the way his hands were placed, the way he wasn't smiling. mental instincts kicked in, 'do the undertakers put underwear on people before they bury them?....no this isn't a time for that....say what you came to say, you're holding up the line....(everybody deals with this in their own way, don't forget what jamie, and clint, and corina said on three separate occassions...why did they say that to me?)...ok KC, i'm freaking out here, seeing you dead when you're not supposed to be...i'll never forget you, i'll never fucking forget you, and how you were always happy....'

at this point, i was either going to bawl my eyes out, faint, puke, or some combination. i got up, which i remember was physically one of the hardest things to do, and walked over to join corina and kevin. we stood in silence, looking over at the casket. another angle to remember KC by. this fucking sucks....i don't want to remember him like that. i closed my eyes, and began erasing the images of him laying there, grey, not moving, not smiling. i noticed my knees shaking, i could keep still, i was biting back tears, (it's ok to cry, it seemed before like kevin would get pissed if i didn't because i held it back) i was trying to keep my balance. then it happened. someone started playing a casio keyboard, organ preset completely off-key, off tempo, and with all the wrong notes. i wanted to turn around and look at kevin and corina to see if they noticed, or were laughing on the inside too. this was weird...i was in a state of mild panic, sadness, and now laughter. yeah, i could imagine what KC would say about the casio keyboard, in his accent, and his mannerism, "what? are you joking me?" i heard kevin whispering to corina, something along the lines off, "you'd think he'd get the practicing part out of the way at home".

later on, the ceremony involved family members getting up and speaking for a couple minutes, remembering KC, and what joyful person he was. one thing that stuck with me was his brother saying that KC had four different facial expressions, all of them smiles. (he really did smile alot, and i wished at that point that the practitioners had known that, but maybe that would be creepy....then i started thinking about how i'd like to be at my wake....eyes wide open, sitting up, staring at the audience as if intently listening to a really good joke, anticipating a gut-bustin' laugh, a huge gaping smile...my mouth open so that people could throw pennies down my throat for good luck. but i can't think about this now, it's not appropriate....but everyone deals with it in their own way....mike never missed a beat....we found out that tuesday morning that KC's death, and he was right back into complaining about work 5 minutes later. everyone deals with it in their own way....) four smiles....that was KC. a family member of his started crying, then wailing, and shouting in krio (creole). it was so sad to see, i started getting choked up. two other guys picked her up, and helped her out of the room, one on each arm. i almost lost it at that point, seeing that image, with KC behind them, strangely grey, not moving, not smiling. mental instincts kicked in...i noticed how similar this image was to last night at the common ground, when i saw some douchebag get severely ejected from the bar, kicking, punching, screaming, wailing in english. that's not appropriate to think right now, though....but everyone deals with it in their own way. i wanted to laugh. i wanted to smile. i wanted to have KC live on in my remembering of him, as he had lived so recently ago. i had no idea how much was going on in his life. i thought about going up to the casket a second time....i couldn't let my stuttered cliche thoughts of before be all that i say to him. no, fuck that. KC wouldn't want me to see him like that more than i needed to. or was i just justifying being an asshole? no, everybody deals with it in their own way. 3 people told me that tonight. why did they tell me that? did i say something?

afterwards, a former co-worker of mine who i hadn't seen in a while joined us, and invited us over to a chinese resteraunt where he and KC used to go frequently. about 8 or so of us ssg guys sat and drank beers, talked about our first porno mags, about child rearing and wife handling (neither of which i was able to contribute anything more than a, 'ha ha! i'm not married! you guys suck!') we also talked about KC.

when i got home, i went right back out to harvard square to meet becky and some friends. i was able to formalize what i should have said to KC in that time:...i'm sorry i was such a fucking prick to you...i had no idea how much you had going on....i'm sorry that i ignored what a good person you were, and concentrated on how you were fucking up at work....i'm sorry i never asked if you needed help, or if everything was alright, like charles did...i'm happy that you were such a happy person, and that even though you left us young, you were at least able to spread some happiness around for 45 years...thanks for teaching me the only krio i know....'mea gladdy'. it means i'm happy, or i'm glad. how typical for you to teach that to someone, KC. i'm not finished being sad for you not being around anymore. but i have to admit, in the last week or so, i've had a lot more patience with everything....looked a lot longer at beautiful things, and took a step back from my own problems to realise how many good people i know, and how happy i am that they are around me. cool....

...hey, thanks KC.
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