Why I'm Not Going to My 50th High School Reunion

Call it karma from Steely Dan. To commemorate the milestone (or is it millstone?), June 12 will mark the 50th high school reunion of the blessed Class of 1973 at Jericho High School on Long Island, New York

And I'm not going.

I know this date by heart because the committee in charge of the reunion has been sending out a blizzard of email reminders, seemingly beginning shortly after they held the FORTIETH class reunion (which, for the record, I also didn't grace). 

Maybe they have dispatched so many notices because these folks fret that we aging 'OK, Boomers' of the Class of 1973 will forget the date, as we surely have so many obligations to tend to such as family members, Social Security concerns, retirement interests, trusts and estate lawyers, cardiologists, financial planners and the like.

My life is as complicated as yours, no doubt. But I have decided not to go to the big reunion because of a deeply held principle: I just don't want to go!

Besides, I am in close touch with everyone I want to keep track of. Heck no, I am not against reunions, and I have very fond memories of those years. Especially when we snuck out of third-period lunch and recklessly left school grounds to go to … Burger King. O, the valor! 

I have nothing against my old pals, even if we have long since lost touch. I no longer even hold a grudge against those cute high school girls in my hometown of Jericho, New York — and all across Nassau County, as a matter of fact — who had the good sense to reject me during my geeky formative years. 

I have also gotten over the fact that my old school, no doubt like so many U.S. educational institutions during the great Space Race of the Cold War years, catered to blooming scientists and did very little to encourage budding writers, artists and culture chasers.

I don't want to go because I think it won't be much fun. 

I cringe as I imagine the idle conversations and the pathetic attempts at making small talk: "So, what have you been doing over the past fifty years?" "Where did the time go?" "Say, what's YOUR blood pressure?" 

And the granddaddy of all: "How often do YOU get a colonoscopy?"

Full disclosure: I especially don't want to think that my mates and I are on the wrong side of the generation gap, though we most assuredly have been for decades. I hate, hate, hate that many of us have given up on life. I see so many people my age who give in and concede that we SHOULD have a lot of regrets.

Nonsense. We should believe that we are as vibrant and interesting and promising — if, admittedly, a step slower — as we were at our high school commencement. And we should show it.

Consider the 2013 film "Last Vegas," which I enjoyed. It's a charming story of four aging high school chums from Brooklyn — Robert De Niro, Michael Douglas, Morgan Freeman and Kevin Kline — who loyally gather in Las Vegas to celebrate the first wedding of one of the guys (Douglas).

The quartet happily lives in the past and basks in their warm memories. It is heartwarming to note they still have such a close bond.

But it's also a little depressing to see how much they yearn for the good old days, although you may have come away convinced that this movie is a 100% celebration of older age. Naturally, this movie made me think of my own life.

I prefer to sing the chorus on that terrific Carly Simon song — "these are the good old days" (and by the way, all of my friends and I lusted after the version of Carly Simon who appeared on the cover of her "No Secrets" album).

The Class of 1973 has seen it all: the assasinations of President John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy and the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.; the Vietnam War; the Watergate scandal; the death of John Lennon; 9/11; the global pandemic and so much more.

We have survived those awful events. We found a way to maintain our optimism and sense of humor — and we have stayed strong. I'd like for this memory to burn bright.

So, I'm NOT going to my high school reunion. 

I am sure I'll hear all about it. And I hope everyone has a great time.