Friday, October 19, 2007

Bring me back, please. Once was enough.

Whoa. I’m weirding out. I need to touch base here, touch a computer, get comments from people my age (or older), people who never knew me with crooked teeth and without a driver's license.

I just visited the website of the 20 year high school reunion from the people I went to ELEMTARY school with. Whoa. I feel like I’m in a very strange time warp. Just seeing the names of these people has transported me back to Miller Ct and the vacant lot where we used to play softball, to the Denison Gym and slow dances (hoping and hoping that Mike Gough would ask me to dance to Airsupply), to the YMCA for Saturday morning basketball, to 3rd hour math, to the orchestra concerts, and all those birthday sleepovers.

I saw photos of people who were 10 last time I saw them. 10 years old. Now they are all very middle aged and way too many of them are having way too many children.

Whoa, bring me back. It’s not still 1979. The internet has been invented. I live in Italy.

Too bad, Mike, it’s too late now.


  1. Mike Rowe7:16 AM

    Too late for what???

    Mike (as in Rowe)

  2. Nancy Davis5:08 AM

    Whoa! Now you brought me back! Denison Gym slow dances when you all dressed up like the home-made dresses in Seventeen Magazine! Praying for Brian Lalibertie (at first) then Ed Kachinski to ask me to dance. Breaking up with him because I was afraid that he wanted to make out in the tires after the dance. Journey...Loverboy...Foreigner.
    I hear the both Eddie and John Tyshenko are bald. God are we old.

  3. I suggest Alain de Botton's Status Anxiety: "A fine remedy for anxieties about insignificance may be to travel—in reality or in works of art— through the gigantic spaces of the world." and also

    from the same chapter "In beholding old stones we may feel our anxieties about our achievements—and lack of them—slacken . . . Vast landscapes[and seasapes] can have an anxiety—reducing effect similar to ruins, for they are the representatives of infintite space, as ruins are the representatives of infinite time, against which our weak, short-lived bodies seem no less inconsequential than those of moths or spiders."