A Decade And A Half Of Extreme Mediocrity.

Doug sent me this photo last night from a couple of Thanksgivings ago. It’s really remarkably good, if of course you know any of the participants. I took a lot of photos this night at Jim’s too – but none of them really captured the moment as well. Shortly prior to Doug’s email, Phil dropped me a line and asked me to help organize… wait for it… my 15 year high school reunion. The 10 year was a blast, so of course I agreed, but jeepers. 15 years. Nostalgia started creeping in a little bit, and I figured I’d say a few words about how I feel turning into the home stretch of this awful anniversary.

Everyone thinks that they know crazy people, or fun people, or maybe that their high school was a little bit nuts. CCHS, from about 88-92, was a special time. By the time we all got to college in 1992, we were bored. There are many people who’ll attest to that fact. We sowed the shit out of our collective oats. School and town officials really started to crack down after then, and it can all be traced back to the video tape of a party at a certain person’s house – who may or may not be typing this right now – which got about 25 kids kicked off of sports teams. Worst part is, the host in question wasn’t even going to the high school at this point. Anyway, it was the beginning of the end of the insanity.

Concord is a very affluent town, and many of our parents had lots of room for vacations, or even summer/winter houses in other states. My point is – every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night – without fail – there was a party. And if there wasn’t a house to haunt, we’d take it outside. Namely “Eden”, “Boonyards” or “The Mayflower”. We got pinched at Eden once, and a friend went to the clink for peeing on the fire after the police told him to put it out. Jeeps full of soldiers with M-16s invaded Boonyards another time, as we’d failed to realize the muddy lot was in fact property of Hanscom Airforce Base. We were resourceful, we had a little money, we all had our own cars – it was a minor delinquency Neverland.

There are a hundred good stories, that we delight in telling to eachother when we all get together – which I can never reveal here. So I’ll keep it general: We so crazy. I have lived in a lot of places, and known a lot of people, but this bunch is a special one and I hope we’re all still in contact on the eve of the 30 year. I know we will be. People say to me sometimes, I can’t believe you still hang out with and keep in touch with all your high school friends. And to them I say – Why the hell not? You grow up with these people. They know you better than anyone. Why would you ever throw all that away because you move half an hour away. Why would you throw that away if you moved to fucking Singapore? I like having good friends. Maybe it’s just me.