| When
I woke up this morning I fell down the stairs. I’m
not sure whether it was fatigue this time or just my listlessness,
but it already foreshadowed what would be a crazy day. When
I reached the bottom, after letting out a loud yelp, I pushed
myself up and walked into the kitchen where Karen, my wife
of 24 years, was making pancakes. There is nothing in this
world like Sunday morning breakfasts. Whether eggs, bacon,
and sausages, or French crepes (which I am proud to say
I, myself, taught her to prepare), or my favorite buttermilk
pancakes. The smell sifted through the air into my nostrils
which triggered the taste buds in my mouth to begin salivating.
After helping myself to two very large chocolate chip pancakes,
I noticed a piece of paper wedged between the radiator and
the table leg. I was so full that it took me a second to
decide whether or not it was worth me bending over to pick
it up. The envelope was slightly dirty from all the dust
that had accumulated under the radiator and its 43 cent
stamp was barely hanging on the top right corner. I picked
it up and examined it. It was addressed to me, but there
was no return address. This could only mean one thing: It
wasn’t junk mail.
I opened the letter meticulously, careful not to destroy
the envelope, and slid the white 8” by 11” sheet
of paper out. I unfolded it while carefully examining the
large print that reflected through the thin page. There
in big letters was written:
IT’S BEEN 30 ALREADY.
HIGH SCHOOL REUNION FOR CLASS OF 2004.
The date was set for September 5th at The Mark Hotel in
New York City; Labor Day weekend. Why did they always choose
Labor Day weekend? I was a little disconcerted because I
had initially planned on spending time with our kids (Nicolas
and Christina) in Martha’s Vineyard that weekend.
Nevertheless, having the opportunity to see some of my old
buddies sounded exciting. I mean after college, most people
go their own ways and move to different places. I only stayed
in touch with my two best buddies after high school: Robbie,
the comedian (he has a big mouth that always gets him in
trouble), and Sam, the scholar.
My four years of high school were the best years of my life.
I was an extremely lucky kid. I had interesting and solicitous
teachers who motivated me to pursue my interests in school.
In retrospect, if it wasn’t for my eleventh grade
American History teacher, Mrs. Belle, I do not think I would
have pursued Political Science in college. She did assign
a tremendous amount of work, but our class was extremely
interactive. We would constantly have debates and mock trials.
I really think it was her class that provoked my interest
in art crimes and made pursue my studies in restitution
law. After law school and receiving a position at a prestigious
law firm, I traveled all over Europe and Asia investigating
various thefts. This profession gave me the opportunity
to do my two favorite things: travel the world and meet
new people.
What happened to all the kids I went to school with- the
class nerd, the class bully, the pretty little bashful redhead
who always disappeared after school? I go to college reunions
just out of curiosity. I want to see where all these people
are today; our valedictorian, David Stanley, our football
captain, Marty Foreman, and Jon Tell, our class president.
What path have these people decided to follow? Last time
I heard from Jon Tell he was into sports medicine. Rumor
has it that he is now working in Turkey for Doctor’s
Without Borders. This unyielding curiosity is the impetus
which drives me to these gatherings. The first reunion I
attended was in 2014 in New York. When I arrived at the
restaurant where the reunion was being held, I was surprised
to see the different transformations some of my fellow peers
had made. Not only strides in maturity but also in new and
different directions. David Cohen, who throughout high school
was a very taciturn kid, became an extremely convivial raconteur
who navigated the crowd of alums speaking about his travels
over the last two years. Amy, who was never really nice
to me, approached me like a long lost friend which made
me wonder what she was thinking all those intervening years.
People were actually happy and interested to be there. The
jocks that picked on the nerds were surprised to learn that
over the years the nerds became bigger than them. I never
thought these people would change; I was wrong.
I flew into New York the night of the 4th and arrived at
the Essex Hotel on Central Park South. I had set a rendezvous
with Robbie and Sam who were also staying at the Essex at
ten pm for drinks. Apparently, Robbie was bringing along
a couple of our older friends with who he remained in touch
with; I didn’t recognize him right away as he approached
the table, but I did recognize Sarah. How could I not? She
was my first girlfriend. When everyone (the 6 of us) arrived
at the bar where we coincidentally used to go as seniors,
the gossip began. How were the children doing? How was business?
Who recently got married or remarried? It was great seeing
all these familiar faces a night before everyone else. I
guess I was sort of impatient. We got back to the hotel
around 12:30 am and went our separate ways. The breakfast
was scheduled tomorrow at 10 am at The Mark.
The wake-up call from the Front desk came at about a quarter
to nine. I hopped out of bed, did the usually routine, and
hailed a cab. The cab let me off right in front of the hotel
where I was welcomed by heavy set bald bellman with a bright
smile. He directed me to the dining hall where I…
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