So...

So….

Tomorrow, I’ll be heading back to Maryland for a high school reunion, and getting a chance to lay eyes on people that I haven’t seen (or, in most cases, even thought about) for over twenty years. In my younger days (“younger” meaning the age that I was when the 5-, 10- and 15-year reunions rolled around), I resisted the urge to attend my high school reunions because (1) I viewed myself as the consummate loner, and thought that I didn’t get along with most of my classmates anyway, and (2) thanks to being in the military, I was conveniently at least 1000 miles away (except for my 5 year reunion – I was actually in town for that one, but I didn’t know where or when it was taking place).

Okay, reason #1 is pure bullshit. Given the impetus that I shall reveal later, I now remember quite fondly getting along with quite a few of my classmates. Truth is, while I was never one of the “popular” kids, I (at least in my reality) managed to transcend most of the various cliques so as not to (at the very least) piss any one group of people off too much – meaning that I was, if nothing else, tolerated (at the very least), or well-liked (at the very best). The reality probably lies in the bridge that spans the transom between these two poles. I’m sure that had I made the effort to attend a previous reunion, the current image that I have of me back in the day would be different enough, and I would have though more about maintaining active relationships with some of my classmates.

Reason #2 is bullshit, but perhaps not as purely so as #1. In 1993, I was back in Maryland at the time, but didn’t know about the reunion. In 1998, I was in Florida, and coming up to Maryland would have been pretty easy, had I known about the reunion and been inclined to go (reference weak excuse #1). In 2003, I was in Washington state, going through a separation, and attempting to put  myself through school,  eat, feed my dog, put gas in my car, and pay rent all on $1300 / month (hence my once massive credit card debt). 2008 came and went without a reunion (so I hear), so here it is, 2009, and I’ll be heading back to Maryland and seeing my erstwhile classmates for the very first time in 21 years.

Well – maybe not exactly. Thanks to the miracle of technology personified in the form of Facebook (the aforementioned impetus), I’ve now “seen” many of my former classmates, and they’ve now “seen” me. We’ve “connected” virtually and have now been making big plans to get together this weekend for a reunion to end all 21-year reunions (“It’s never too late for ‘88”).  There will be meet and greets, dinners and lunches on the side, and perhaps even a picnic. Fond memories have resurfaced, and I realize that I wasn't such the loner after all, and that, despite my rather severe religious upbringing, I did manage to have some good times (and even a few cute girlfriends) along the way. I'm truly excited to see some of the old gang again, if for no other reason to see how everyone turned out.

And then, some of us will drive away, some will fly, and after that…?

Dealing with long-distance relationships, regardless of their nature, are pretty hard to maintain. People living in proximity to one another have a much better chance of developing and maintaining a meaningful relationship than do those who live a hundred, few hundred, or thousands of miles away. All this to say: while many of my former classmates live within an easy hours drive of each other, some (like myself) aren’t in the same situation. The ease of contact – and by this, I mean actual, real life physical contact – is greatly diminished. Diminished ease, unfortunately, translates into reduced motivation.

So I ask again, after that….?

I realize that this query is self-serving, but I also think that it’s an important question to ask. It could be wholly rhetorical, since there may be no sane answer that can honestly stand the test of time in its practice. There are a few of us who are hundreds and thousands of miles away, and it would be a shame if we were to reconnect meaningfully with our fellow classmates, have a few hours or a couple of days of good times, and then part with the hopes of constant and meaningful exchange, only to face the reality of a series of slowly diminishing interchanges that culminates in the void of weeks between emails, months between phone calls, and years between visits.

Of course there is Facebook – social networking can be a godsend. Unfortunately, the daily exchanges that  take place there may serve to whet the appetitite of some for an eventual face to face meeting – but for others, due to the lack of motivation or the realities of distance, recessions, gas and airfare, it may serve as the sole medium of contact.

I’ll not be dismissive, however. In any medium, there can be quality; in any form, there can be love; in any method there can be friendship. It remains up to us who utilize such to determine whether or not we choose to make the most out of what we have in our exchanges to one another, and truly express such, and do so with a consistency that lays bare our true feelings – or to, instead, treat it as a façade for something richer, and skimp on the quality to focus on numbing and insipid quantity – or, even more disturbing – elect to have sparsely interspersed postings of single liners and de rigueur inquiries into the state of others represent our total contribution to our sides of the relationship.

As for me – I’ll not pretend to know the answer, nor will I be so haughty to assert that I’ve never been guilty of the transgressions that I’ve laid out above (or ever will be so again). Like everyone else – I’ll wait and see.