'On the Sunday of the Thanksgiving weekend, I was sitting in the Victoria Street Cafe when a man about my age went up to the counter and ordered a coffee. He made conversation with the young woman behind the counter, and I overheard a few words. "Excuse me," I said, "did you say you were in town for your twenty-fifth high school reunion?"
I told him I was in Connecticut for the exact same reason. His school was one of the ones in the local area - northeastern Connecticut - and I went to school in the Manchester area. He introduced himself as Ben. We compared notes about high school. "You know," I said, "it was good to go to my reunion. I had a really hard time in high school, and some of the kids picked on me pretty bad. But I made it through okay, and it was good to see my old friends again. You know, people change - we all grow up."
He nodded agreement. "Did you have a similar experience in high school?" I asked.
He grinned sheepishly and shook his head. "No - I had a 1.37 grade point average. I was one of the assholes. ...'
The whole story, along with the reflections of another high-school outcast, can be found at the link.
And it was also in that same month, in fact over the Thanksgiving weekend, that I re-connected with Georgianne.
How the years pass.