Mini High School Reunion

Earlier this summer Chuck, someone I used to know in high school, invited me to his beach house for a party. My seventeen-year-old 's heart leaped! Finally, an invitation to hang with the cool kids! The cool performing arts kids! 

In high school I floated mostly by myself. My yearbook is filled with signatures because I wasn't too self absorbed to ask for autographs. Indeed I did sign Chuck's book. Embarrassingly, I could barely recognize my handwriting. It was filled with a fangirl's plea for him to send me an autographed playbill of every show he was in. 

Spoiler alert: that never happened.

Bigger spoiler alert: I never expected it to happen.

Had Facebook not been invented, and had someone from high school not found me, my life would have moved forward without seeing him or the others at the party. I still have imposter syndrome that I was even invited. The party was to show our former choir director that he became a big success. The beach house is tastefully decorated as only a gay man with great taste, or friends with great taste can do. It looked like it was ready for a magazine photo shoot. Not a stray piece of anything out of place, which was a contrast to other details from the party.

First, Chuck greeted us wearing the cast t-shirt from Hello, Dolly, one of the two shows we did together in high school. Not only does he still have the shirt from 1986, he fills it better than he did when he was 17-years old. He brought out pictures from our high school days, and his laptop which had a video of him singing in Oklahoma, the other musical we did together. The piece de resistance, was when we did a costume change and came out wearing the shirt he wore in that musical. The shirt the choir director's mother made for him. The shirt he has kept since 1986. It has moved with him just for this day.

I had total imposter syndrome at the event. First of all, I was never in choir. My sisters were. My role in the musicals were in the pit orchestra -- the one part not controlled by the choir director. Our paths only crossed a couple of times.

I held off on writing this post because I didn't want the crowd at Chuck's house to find this. I realize the likelihood of anyone from that day reading this are slim. I barely crossed their RADAR in high school. That hasn't really changed.

I enjoyed reconnecting with people, but was grateful I had a hard deadline to leave. I agreed to review a play. As theater people, that excuse made them happy.

A few of us talked about our upcoming 40th reunion. Big or small? Hotel or VFW? What do we care about in this stage? 

I did leave with a "playdate." An invitation to get together with Barb. We were even able to put the date on the calendar and make it happen. There is that.