I Don't Like People

McKinley Alma Mater, guiding star above …

Cousin David was blunt. “You’re anti-social.”

“No,” I responded. “I’m selective.”

“You’re anti-social,” he repeated. “I’ve seen you at family gatherings.”

I OCD’d on his observation for hours as I sat by myself in the visitors stands during the Akron Zips football game. Sister No. 2 had only so many tickets in her section. She offered to sneak me in as did Baby Sister. My ticket read general admission. Rules are rules.

Here’s the deal. I don’t like people. “People” as in the general sense of the word. Think of Wal-Mart hordes, the state of Michigan, filled-to-capacity public restrooms, the line of gamblers waiting for you to leave the Wheel of Fortune slot machine, the Iranian Revolutionary Guard and obnoxious Pittsburgh sports fans. Those types.

There are exceptions: Individuals, small groups, a majority of family (including Cousin David), friends, Facebook friends (because if you “friend” someone, you’re a friend forever), a few past and current co-workers, and the cult-like clique known as the Boardman Band and Orchestra Parents.

Now presenting the 30^th reunion of the Niles McKinley High School Class of 1982.

Forever in our gratitude, we offer thee our love …

I didn’t expect it to materialize. However, through the magic of social media (all hail and praise to Mark Zuckerberg), one classmate, Julianne, started and sustained the movement. Her effort is wonderful and remarkable.  The same goes for those who helped her.

Within months, she gathered more than 100 of the “Brew Crew of ’82” together through Facebook. That’s impressive – statistically – considering our class has 360-plus graduates. As a side note, you are obligated to use the word “crew” when a year ends in a “two.” The “brew” was a Scrabble-like bonus score.

Just one problem: Did I want to go? Being “selective” should have made the decision easy – “No.” Yet, I arrived at a different answer – “A definite maybe.”

In Joys and in all sorrows, we shall e’er be true …

Thirteen family members (including Cousin David) have or will graduate from Niles McKinley. That number surprised me. Apparently, there was plenty of baby-making sex going on. The stork, people. The stork. No legs in the air like you just don’t care.

Except for BFFs Rod and Amy, I’ve had little contact with my classmates. No one’s fault. It’s just Life’s way of taking control.  

Skipped the 10-year reunion – the one where you see who’s gained the most weight, became successful and changed for good or bad. I, the underpaid, overweight journalist, didn’t want to be the judgmental eye candy.

Reluctantly went to the 20^th only after Amy promised to attend. Rod wanted no part of it. Not that 20 years absence makes the heart grow fonder. Curiosity kicked in. Seems I had a good time. The Wife said I never shut up during the gathering. By my count, I promised to stay in touch with 20-some people. Yeah, about that…

While in our hearts we ever love thy flag of Red and Blue!

My inner voice tells me to “Run away! Run away!” It also tells me to get a shrubbery and t’is but a scratch. I’ve tuned it out – thanks in part to Cousin David. (My OCD motto: “Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. Damn. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it.”)

Julianne’s enthusiasm and persistence turned a “definite maybe” into a “Here’s the money. I really, really plan on attending. Really.” She cared. That was ultimately the selling point.

But 30 years? That screams “Here’s my business card and hope the colonoscopy goes well.” Crap.

Must confidentiality forms be signed? Will someone be checking my pulse? Am I going to make an ass of myself? (No alcohol required.)

You can throw a psychological spin on the high school years, and all of the clichés surface. Not interested in going there.

I just want to say “Hi,” again. And that, dear Cousin does not make me anti-social – for at least one night.