In 2018, It Seems Surreal to Look Back to 1990. Approaching 30 Years. Phew

My senior year resurrected itself yesterday, when my senior picture, Class of 1990, reappeared on Facebook. In some ways, this is the same exact kid I see when I think about the journey thus far, but I recognize that the hair has grayed and thinned, and the dreams have altered quite a bit.

In 1990, I simply wanted to become a White male Oprah Winfrey. I wanted to major in Psychology and to become a talk show host where I could bring guests to my couches and pontificate with them The Great Whatever like she did. It's been almost 38 years and she's never returned a letter or email - I guess that was a high school pipe dream.

In the meantime, I think about who that kid was when he left high school, going to Ferdinand for his senior photo, working almost full time at Sibley's, then Kaufman's, selling women's shoes, and excited about life at Binghamton University. In many ways, that kid is still alive and the same boy I am today, but when I look at the photograph I think, "Snap. Where did that kid go?"

I had my box top haircut, pre-hippie hair in college, a preppy facade, big ears, no bling (and I'm no longer sporting bling) and a lot of energy - I didn't hurt so much in those days when I tried to put as much as I could in a 24-hour span, including 6 to 10 mile runs. That guy is not what he used to be.

Ah, but I think about the 500 senior pictures that occurred for my own students when I was in Kentucky, the doctorate, the research, and what I'm doing now with CWP at my side, and I think, "Maybe there is a little Oprah within me. Not a talk show, but a way to connect with humanity just the same."

I said to my barber yesterday when he was shaving down the grays, "Weren't we just partying like it was 1999?" He laughed.

We were.

Dang. It's 2018 and the class of 1990 is approaching its 30 year reunion. That doesn't seem possible. It's hard to collect everything that has occurred since that time (but I'm thankful I've had the opportunity to give it a shot and not to have as many obstacles that, for some, are ubiquitous).

Of course, the photo was airbrushed, and this was before IPhones and selfies. Shoot. This is before cordless phones, answering machines, and DVDs. This is before the Internet, mp3s, YouTube, and wireless connections. There was no FaceTime, the beginning phases of Ninendo, and we all relied on snail mail. It was a different world then, and I feel lucky that I got to experience it.

This is to my classmates, then. We're all here at this place together. I think, "What would it be like to return to the halls of CNS for a day like it used to be?" I'm sure I would still panic that I didn't pack gym clothes for a B day, and I would still fret I wouldn't remember my locker number. The gossip would be paramount and the homework irrelevant to what college would be like and purposeless. But, it would be nice to jump into our jean jackets once again.

We were so young, but we didn't even know it. Yes, Shaw, youth is wasted on the young. It would be crazy to do a lap at Carmella's once again (but it is now a funeral home).

These years went by way too fast. Phew. I'm feeling old for sure.