The amount of fun that you will have at a high school reunion is inversely proportional to how much of high school you remember.
Since I can barely remember the names of the people I work with on a daily basis, let alone the Drah-ma of decades past, I had a really good time. Also, the women were a lot better preserved than the men--it's all in the hair, people. You can be forgiven for just about anything if your hair looks good. That's why my entire anti-aging program can be summed up thus: moisturizer and hair dye. It works, and think of the money you save on plastic surgery!
And this is apropos of nothing, but on my way home from the aforementioned reunion I managed to see something stuck on a car that tops even the most vapid of bumperstickers: a pair of silver testicles (either fake, or pulled off of a local bovine and immediately plated in semi-precious metals) dangling from the nether bumper of a souped-up chevy caprice.
Yes, I just used the phrase "souped-up chevy caprice." Un-ironically. But I've got a question for the owner of the be-testicled vehicle: If your car really is as badass as you want us all to believe, would you need to adorn it with fake testicles? Yeah, that question's rhetorical.
In other news, The Boy is turning into a rather determined metrosexual. Today was picture day, and there was much sartorial deliberation, as well as a refusal to wear his hoodie because it might "mess up his hair." His hair that I have to style with gel before I blow it dry, by the way.
He also informed me in a solemn and somewhat shocked tone that the girls in his class keep trying to marry the boys. Apparently, if the girls DON'T like you, they threaten you with marriage. I will not opine on what this means for the idea of marriage for his generation, nor will I make the obvious jokes. His teacher had to make a general class announcement to the effect that no one would be marrying anyone in Kindergarten, and so the crisis was averted. For the moment, anyway.
Between the reunion and the threat of rampant kindergarten marriage, I have never been so glad to be pushing 40.
Posted by Big Arm Woman at October 23, 2006 02:52 PMRelax. Take the fake bull testicles as a hyperbolic joke about machismo, kind of like the scene in Eastwood's "The Gauntlet" where the Las Vegas cops shoot a tract house to pieces.
Posted by: PersonFromPorlock at October 23, 2006 03:37 PMI think the fake testicles are a comment on those who don't have them.
Nobody puts fake ovaries on cars.
Mmnnnnnn...I've seen a lot of "truck nuts" (at least that's what they're called 'round here) and I kinda doubt the owners - at least the ones I've met - of cars with 'truck nuts' are capable of making a hyperbolic joke about machismo.
I think the mentality is more "uh-huh, huh-huh-huh, I put BALLS on my car...."
Posted by: ricki at October 23, 2006 05:46 PMThe thing I remember most about my 20th high school reunion is watching all the people that the "in crowd" didn't notice 20 years before and how much happier and successful they were in general than the "in crowd" that peaked in high school and were still worried about what everybody thought. I was also appalled when one of the in crowd left his wife (who was not from our area) to talk to his first girlfriend (and you can take that all the way) and left his wife sitting alone. She did just fine socializing and meeting people but I couldn't believe a late 30s male was still so enthralled with the girl he slept with in junior high versus the mother of his children. it's more than sad.
I'd much rather live for today and not overcompensate for anything - past or present.
Posted by: Kelly in Kansas at October 24, 2006 01:25 PM