Can I just say that I have no problem with middle age? OK, I’ll say it. I have no problem with middle age. As much as I enjoyed high school, I would never go back. But I did go to my 30 year high school class reunion on Saturday night and discovered or rediscovered a few gratifying things:
- Three decades pretty much level the playing field. Cellulite and receding hairlines and pot-guts and varicose veins come to jock and brainiac, cheerleader and yearbook editor alike. But you know what? It’s life. And life looks good on us. We’re beautiful.
- Despite the above-mentioned signs of aging, I’m super comfortable in my own skin. In the hour-plus it used to take me to do my Farrah Fawcett hairdo in high school I can now shower, get dressed, do hair and make-up, feed the dog, check email, call my mom, start the dishwasher and sync my iPod. Low maintenance is my MO. Hallelujah.
- My high school friends were extraordinary human beings, still are. They live with compassion and integrity, meet obstacles with courage and grace, and make the world better.
- I love my life and wouldn’t trade it for anything.
As part of the program on Saturday night, I took a stab at condensing the past thirty years into 90 seconds of common life experience. I called it “Life History Lite” or “Three Decades–Reduced.” Some folks have asked for a copy of it, so here it is. (It’s nonsense that’s meant to be read aloud!)
Where Did Thirty Years Go?
1981. Grad night fun. On the move. Moving out. Big hair, big dreams, big plans. Plan B. Out of state, room mate. Freshman dorms, fill out forms. Fraternity, sorority, Republican majority. Student loan. Cap and gown. MBA. Resume. GRE. PHd. Job fair. New job, no job.
True love, true blue. Rented tux. I do. Honeymoon. Townhome, twin home, Home Depot. Fixer-upper, Mr. Fix-It, Thirty-year fixed. Ultrasound. Ultra-Huggies. Newborn, new crib, no sleep. Car seat. First steps, first tooth, first day of school. Ballet, Little League, cubs scouts, time-outs. Room mother, soccer mom, Mr. Mom, step-mom. Slip-on Vans, mini-van, middle school, carpool. Hurry up, buckle up, cheer up, pay up. Fast track, no slack, Democrats come back. Refi, remodel, relocate. Four bedroom, two story, three car garage. Teenage, middle age, aging parents. High school, too cool. Driver’s ed, driver’s license. Drive-up, drive-in, drive-thru. Drives dad crazy.
Detox, botox, pep talks. Grey hair, no hair. Rogaine, weight gain, capital gains. APR. ARM. IRA. 401K. High tech, high stress, highlights, light rock, less talk. iPod. iPad. Ear bud. Bluetooth. Touch screen. Express lane. Overnight. While you wait. Instant message. Fast food. Rush order. Rush hour. Overtime, over committed, over drawn. Over the hill? Not us. Never. Golf bag, gym bag, mountain bike, take a hike. Running shoes, shin splints, triatholon day, Ben-gay. Been there, done that. Moving on. Hanging on. Bring it on. Here’s to the next thirty years!
What’s your favorite thing about getting older? Have you gone to your high school class reunions? Leave a comment with your favorite “blast from the past” experience.